"Tell me," she said. "Do tell me all about it."
Mitzi said, "Good! I'll tell you, Mother. But first I must have a pretzel to eat. I have had nothing since morning."
Mitzi helped herself to a fistful of the salty, twisted crackers. She began to eat and to talk at the same time—a feat which cannot be done very well.
Her words sounded to Mrs. Toymaker like "Yummeemummee."
The mother laughed and said, "Fritz had better tell me."
Fritz began, "Mitzi believed all along that people would really like my music. She wanted to show Father. So today we went back to the same park where I played yesterday."
By this time, Mitzi had swallowed her first pretzel, so she continued the story: "I stood upon a bench. I talked very loudly so everyone could hear. I said that our father had sold Fritz's violin and that Fritz could not play for them. I said I was sorry that we could not keep our promise and give another concert. Then the gennamemmaeppa—"
"Mitzi!" laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "How can I understand you when you are eating pretzels?"
"The gentleman stepped up to us," went on Fritz.