A Young Girl's Diary
July 12, 19 . . . Hella and I are writing a diary. We both agreed that when we went to
the high school we would write a diary every day. Dora keeps a diary too, but she
gets furious if I look at it. I call Helene "Hella," and she calls me "Rita;" Helene and
Grete are so vulgar. Dora has taken to calling herself "Thea," but I go on calling her
"Dora." She says that little children (she means me and Hella) ought not to keep a
diary. She says they will write such a lot of nonsense. No more than in hers and
July 13th. Really we were not to begin writing until after the holidays, but since we
are both going away, we are beginning now. Then we shall know what we have been
doing in the holidays.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 6
The day before yesterday we had an entrance examinatio n, it was very easy, in
dictation I made only 1 mistake--writing ihn without h. The mistress said that didn't
matter, I had only made a slip. That is quite true, for I know well enough that ihn has
an h in it. We were both dressed in white with rose- coloured ribbons, and everyone
believed we were sisters or at least cousins. It would be very nice to have a cousin.
But it's still nicer to have a friend, for we can tell one another everything.
July 14th. The mistress was very kind. Because of her Hella and I are really sorry
that we are not going to a middle school. Then every day before lessons began we
could have had a talk with her in the class-room. But we're awfully pleased because
of the other girls. One is more important when one goes to the high schoo l instead of
only to the middle school. That is why the girls are in such a rage. "They are bursting
with pride" (that's what my sister says of me and Hella, but it is not true). "Our two
students" said the mistress when we came away. She told us to write to her from the
country. I shall.
July 15th. Lizzi, Hella's sister, is not so horrid as Dora, she is always so nice! To -day
she gave each of us at least ten chocolate-creams. It's true Hella often says to me:
"You don't know her, what a beast she can be. Your sister is generally very nice to
me." Certainly it is very funny the way in which she always speaks of us as "the little
ones" or "the children," as if she had never been a child herself, and indeed a much
littler one than we are. Besides we're just the same as she is now. She is in the fourth
class and we are in the first.
To-morrow we are going to Kaltenbach in Tyrol. I'm frightfully excited. Hella went
away to-day to Hungary to her uncle and aunt with her mother and Lizzi. Her father
is at manoeuvres.
July 19th. It's awfully hard to write every day in the holidays. Everything is so new
and one has no time to write. We are living in a big house in the forest. Dora bagged
the front veranda straight off for her own writing. At the back of the house there are
such swarms of horrid little flies; everything is black with flies. I do hate flies and
such things. I'm not going to put up with being driven out of the front veranda. I
won't have it. Besides, Father said: "Don't quarrel, children!" (Children to her too! !)
He's quite right. She puts on such airs because she'll be fourteen in October. "The
verandas are common property," said Father. Father's always so just. He never lets