July 24th. To-day is Sunday. I do love Sundays.
Father says: You children have Sundays every day.
That's quite true in the holidays, but not at other
times. The peasants and their wives and children
are all very gay, wearing Tyrolese dresses, just like
those I have seen in the theatre. We are wearing
our white dresses to-day, and I have made a great
cherrystain upon mine, not on purpose, but because
I sat down upon some fallen cherries. So this afternoon
when we go out walking I must wear my pink
dress. All the better, for I don't care to be dressed
exactly the same as Dora. I don't see why everyone
should know that we are sisters. Let people think we
are cousins. She does not like it either; I wish I
knew why.

Oswald is coming in a week, and I am awfully
pleased. He is older than Dora, but I can always get
on with him. Hella writes that she finds it dull without
me; so do I.

July 25th. I wrote to Fraulein Pruckl to-day.
She is staying at Achensee. I should like to see her.
Every afternoon we bathe and then go for a walk.
But to-day it has been raining all day. Such a bore.
I forgot to bring my paint-box and I'm not allowed
to read all day. Mother says, if you gobble all your
books up now you'll have nothing left to read. That's
quite true, but I can't even go and swing.

Afternoon. I must write some more. I've had a
frightful row with Dora. She says I've been fiddling
with her things. It's all because she's so untidy.
As if _her_ things could interest me. Yesterday she
left her letter to Erika lying about on the table, and
all I read was: He's as handsome as a Greek god.
I don't know who "he" was for she came in at that
moment. It's probably Krail Rudi, with whom she
is everlastingly playing tennis and carries on like
anything. As for handsome--well, there's no accounting
for tastes.

July 26th. It's a good thing I brought my dolls'
portmanteau. Mother said: You'll be glad to have
it on rainy days. Of course I'm much too old to play
with dolls, but even though I'm 11 I can make dolls'
clothes still. One learns something while one is doing
it, and when I've finished something I do enjoy it so.
Mother cut me out some things and I was tacking
them together. Then Dora came into the room and
said Hullo, the child is sewing things for her dolls.
What cheek, as if she had never played with dolls.
Besides, I don't really play with dolls any longer.
When she sat down beside me I sewed so vigorously
that I made a great scratch on her hand, and said:
Oh, I'm so sorry, but you came too close. I hope
she'll know why I really did it. Of course she'll
go and sneak to Mother. Let her. What right has
she to call me child. She's got a fine red scratch anyhow,
and on her right hand where everyone can see.

July 27th. There's such a lot of fruit here. I
eat raspberries and gooseberries all day and Mother
says that is why I have no appetite for dinner. But
Dr. Klein always says Fruit is so wholesome. But
why should it be unwholesome all at once? Hella
always says that when one likes anything awfully
much one is always scolded about it until one gets
perfectly sick of it. Hella often gets in such a temper
with her mother, and then her mother says: We
make such sacrifices for our children and they reward
us with ingratitude. I should like to know what
sacrifices they make. I think it's the children who
make the sacrifices. When I want to eat gooseberries
and am not allowed to, the sacrifice is _mine_ not
_Mother's_. I've written all this to Hella. Fraulein
Pruckl has written to me. The address on her letter
to me was splendid, "Fraulein Grete Lainer,
Lyzealschulerin." Of course Dora had to know better than
anyone else, and said that in the higher classes from
the fourth upwards (because she is in the fourth)
they write "Lyzeistin." She said: "Anyhow, in the
holidays, before a girl has attended the first class
she's not a Lyzealschulerin at all." Then Father
chipped in, saying that _we_ (_I_ didn't begin it) really
must stop this eternal wrangling; he really could
not stand it. He's quite right, but what he said
won't do any good, for Dora will go on just the same.
Fraulein Pruckl wrote that she was _delighted_ that I
had written. As soon as I have time she wants me
to write to her again. Great Scott, I've always time
for _her_. I shall write to her again this evening after
supper, so as not to keep her waiting.

July 29th. I simply could not write yesterday.
The Warths have arrived, and I had to spend the
whole day with Erna and Liesel, although it rained
all day. We had a ripping time. They know a lot
of round games and we played for sweets. I won
47, and I gave five of them to Dora. Robert is already