"To joomp? Candles?"
She nodded.
"Nell," entering the dining room, which was cleared for action, "isn't it lovely—Herr Schmidt's goin' to jump them, too!" Her wicked little voice trembled with glee.
"Oh!" said Nell, "oh, it's very good of him!"
Herr Schmidt looked on with benign interest as they arranged twelve candles, big, little, thin, fat, in a row on the floor, some in candlesticks and a few stuck on pieces of wood. He listened earnestly to Nell's explanation.
"Yes, yes, I understand. Every candle represents a month. Yes. I joomp—so!" He gave an elephantine leap in the air that sent Molly flying from the room. "And if I blow out any, I shall be onhappy zat month—ach, yes!"
"And all you jump over without blowing out will be happy and prosperous months."
"So! I understant. Shall I begin?"
He did begin. He stood before the first candle drew his feet together, and—thud!—he was over and beaming round, breathless but triumphant.
"Ach—he not out!"