mr。　dussel　begins。　he　may　not　always　peel　them　very　well；　but　he　does　peel　nonstop；
  glancing　left　and　right　to　see　if　everyone　is　doing　it　the　way　he　does。　no；　theyre　not！
  〃look；　anne；　i　am　taking　peeler　in　my　hand　like　so　and　going　from　the　top　to　bottom！
  nein；　not　so　。　。　。　but　so！鈥?br />
  〃i　think　my　way　is　easier；　mr。　dussel；〃　i　say　tentatively。
  〃but　this　is　best　way；　anne。　this　you　can　take　from　me。　of　course；　it　is　no　matter；　you　do　the　way　you　want。鈥?br />
  we　go　on　peeling。　i　glance　at　dussel　out　of　the　corner　of　my　eye。　lost　in　thought；　he　shakes　his　head　（over　me；　no　doubt）；　but　says　no　more。
  i　keep　on　peeling。　then　i　look　at　father；　on　the　other　side　of　me。　to　father；　peeling　potatoes　is　not　a　chore；　but　precision　work。　when　he　reads；　he　has　a　deep　wrinkle　in　the　back　of　his　head。　but　when　hes　preparing　potatoes；　beans　or　vegetables；　he　seems　to　be　totally　absorbed　in　his　task。　he　puts　on　his　potato…peeling　face；　and　when　its　set　in　that　particular　way；　it　would　be　impossible　for　him　to　turn　out　anything　less　than　a　perfectly　peeled　potato。
  i　keep　on　working。　i　glance　up　for　a　second；　but　thats　all　the　time　i　need。　mrs。　van　d。　is　trying　to　attract　dussels　attention。　she　starts　by　looking　in　his　direction；　but　dussel　pretends　not　to　notice。　she　winks；　but　dussel　goes　on　peeling。　she　laughs；　but　dussel　still　doesnt　look　up。　then　mother　laughs　too；　but　dussel　pays　them　no　mind。
  having　failed　to　achieve　her　goal；　mrs。　van　d。　is　obliged　to　change　tactics。　theres　a　brief　silence。　then　she　says；　〃putti；　why　dont　you　put　on　an　apron？　otherwise；　ill　have　to　spend　all　day　tomorrow　trying　to　get　the　spots　out　of　your　suit！鈥?br />
  〃im　not　getting　it　dirty。鈥?br />
  another　brief　silence。　〃putti；　why　dont　you　sit　down？　〃im　fine　this　way。　i　like　standing　up！鈥?br />
  silence。
  〃putti；　look　out；　du　spritzt　schon！〃。*　＇*now　youre　splashing！＇　〃i　know；　mommy；　but　im　being　careful。鈥?br />
  mrs。　van　d。　casts　about　for　another　topic。　〃tell　me；　putti；　why　arent　the　british
  carrying　out　any　bombing　raids　today？鈥?br />
  〃because　the　weathers　bad；　kerli！鈥?br />
  〃but　yesterday　it　was　such　nice　weather　and　they　werent　flying　then　either。鈥?br />
  〃lets　drop　the　subject。鈥?br />
  〃why？　cant　a　person　talk　about　that　or　offer　an　opinion？　〃well；　why　in　the　world　not？鈥?br />
  〃oh；　be　quiet；　mammichen！〃*　＇*mommy＇　〃mr。　frank　always　answers　his　wife。鈥?br />
  mr。　van　d。　is　trying　to　control　himself。　this　remark　always　rubs　him　the　wrong　way；　but　mrs。　van　d。s　not　one　to　quit：　〃oh；　theres　never　going　to　be　an　invasion！鈥?br />
  mr。　van　d。　turns　white；　and　when　she　notices　it；　mrs。　van　d。　turns　red；　but　shes　not　about　to　be　deterred：　〃the　british　arent　doing　a　thing！鈥?br />
  the　bomb　bursts。　〃and　now　shut　up；　donnerwetter　noch　mal！*　＇*for　crying　out　loud！〃＇　mother　can　barely　stifle　a　laugh；　and　i　stare　straight　ahead。
  scenes　like　these　are　repeated　almost　daily；　unless　theyve　just　had　a　terrible　fight。　in　that　case；　neither　mr。　nor　mrs。　van　d。　says　a　word。
  its　time　for　me　to　get　some　more　potatoes。　i　go　up　to　the　attic；　where　peter　is　busy　picking　fleas　from　the　cat。
  he　looks　up；　the　cat　notices　it；　and　whoosh。　。　。　hes　gone。　out　the　window　and　into　the　rain　gutter。
  peter　swears；　i　laugh　and　slip　out　of　the　room。
  freedom　in　the　annex　five…thirty。　beps　arrival　signals　the　beginning　of　our　nightly　freedom。　things　get
  going　right　away。　i　go　upstairs　with　bep；　who　usually　has　her　dessert　before　the　rest　of　us。　the　moment　she　sits　down；　mrs。　van　d。　begins　stating　her　wishes。　her　list　usually　starts　with　〃oh；　by　the　way；　bep；　something　else　id　like。　。　。〃　bep　winks　at　me。　mrs。　van　d。　doesnt　miss　a　chance　to　make　her　wishes　known　to　whoever　es　upstairs。　it　must　be　one　of　the　reasons　none　of　them　like　to　go　up　there。
  five　forty…five。　bep　leaves。　i　go　down　two　floors　to　have　a　look　around：　first　to　the　kitchen；　then　to　the　private　office　and　then　to　the　coal　bin　to　open　the　cat　door　for　mouschi。
  after　a　long　tour　of　inspection；　i　wind　up　in　mr。　kuglers　office。　mr。　van　daan　is　bing　all　the　drawers　and　files　for　todays　mail。　peter　picks　up　boche　and　the　warehouse　key；　pim　lugs　the　typewriters　upstairs；　margot　looks　around　for　a　quiet　place　to　do　her　office　work；　mrs。　van　d。　puts　a　kettle　of　water　on　the　stove；　mother　es　down　the　stairs　with　a　pan　of　potatoes；　we　all　know　our　jobs。
  soon　peter　es　back　from　the　warehouse。　the　first　question　they　ask　him　is　whether　hes　remembered　the　bread。　no；　he　hasnt。　he　crouches　before　the　door　to　the　front　office　to　make　himself　as　small　as　possible　and　crawls　on　his　hands　and　knees　to　the　steel　cabinet；　takes　out　the　bread　and　starts　to　leave。　at　any　rate；　thats　what　he　intends　to　do；　but　before　he　knows　whats　happened；　mouschi　has　jumped　over　him　and　gone　to　sit　under　the　desk。
  peter　looks　all　around　him。　aha；　theres　the　cat！　he　crawls　back　into　the　office　and　grabs　the　cat　by　the　tail。　mouschi　hisses；　peter　sighs。　what　has　he　acplished？
  mouschis　now　sitting　by　the　window　licking　herself；　very　pleased　at　having　escaped　peters　clutches。　peter　has　no　choice　but　to　lure　her　with　a　piece　of　bread。　mouschi　takes　the　bait；　follows　him　out；　and　the　door　closes。
  i　watch　the　entire　scene　through　a　crack　in　the　door。
  mr。　van　daan　is　angry　and　slams　the　door。　margot　and　i　exchange　looks　and　think　the　same　thing：　he　must　have　worked　himself　into　a　rage　again　because　of　some　blunder　on　mr。　kuglers　part；　and　hes　forgotten　all　about　the　keg　pany　next　door。
  another　step　is　heard　in　the　hallway。　dussel　es　in；　goes　toward　the　window　with　an　air　of　propriety；　sniffs。　。　。　coughs；　sneezes　and　clears　his　throat。　hes　out　of　luck　　it　was　pepper。　he　continues　on　to　the　front　office。　the　curtains　are　open；　which　means　he　cant　get　at　his　writing　paper。　he　disappears　with　a　scowl。
  margot　and　i　exchange　another　glance。　〃one　less　page　for　his　sweetheart　tomorrow；〃　i
  hear　her　say。　i　nod　in　agreement。
  an　elephants　tread　is　heard　on　the　stairway。　its　dussel；　seeking　fort　in　his　favorite　spot。
  we　continue　working。　knock；　knock；　knock。　。　。　three　taps　means　dinnertime！
  monday；　august　23；　1943
  wenn　die　uhr　halb　neune　schlaat　。　。　。*　＇*　when　the　clock　strikes　half　past　eight。＇　margot　and　mother　are　nervous。　〃shh　。　。　。　father。　be　quiet；　otto。　shh　。　。　。　pim！　its　eight…thirty。
  e　here；　you　cant　run　the　water　anymore。　walk　softly！〃　a　sample　of　whats　said　to　father　in　the　bathroom。　at　the　stroke　of　half　past　eight；　he　has　to　be　in　the　living　room。　no　running　water；　no　flushing　toilet；　no　walking　around；　no　noise　whatsoever。　as　long　as　the　office　staff　hasnt　arrived；　sounds　travel　more　easily　to　the　warehouse。
  the　door　opens　upstairs　at　eight…twenty；　and　this　is　followed　by　three　gentle　taps　on　the　floor。　。　。　annes　hot　cereal。　i　clamber　up　the　stairs　to　get　my　doggie　dish。
  back　downstairs；　everything　has　to　be　done　quickly；　quickly：　i　b　my　hair；　put　away　the　potty；　shove　the　bed　back　in　place。　quiet！　the　clock　is　striking　eight…thirty！　mrs。
  van　d。　changes　shoes　and　shuffles　through　the　room　in　her　slippers；　mr。　van　d。　too　　a　veritable　charlie　chaplin。　all　is　quiet。
  the　ideal　family　scene　has　now　reached　its　high　point。　i　want　to　read　or　study　and　margot　does　too。　father　and　mother　ditto。　father　is　sitting　（with　dickens　and　the　dictionary；　of　course）　on　the　edge　of　the　sagging；　squeaky　bed；　which　doesnt　even　have　a　decent　mattress。　two　bolsters　can　be　piled　on　top　of　each　other。　〃i　dont　need　these；〃　he　thinks。　〃i　can　manage　without　them！鈥?br />
  once　he　starts　reading；　he　doesnt　look　up。　he　laughs　now　and　then　and　tries　to　get　mother　to　read　a　story。
  〃i　dont　have　the　time　right　now！鈥?br />
  he　looks　disappointed；　but　then　continues　to　read。
  a　little　while　later；　when　he　es　across　another　good　passage；　he　tries　again：　〃you
  have　to　read　this；　mother！鈥?br />
  mother　sits　on　the　folding　bed；　either　reading；　sewing；　knitting　or　studying；　whichever　is　next　on　her　list。　an　idea　suddenly　occurs　to　her；　and　she　quickly　says；　so　as　not　to　forget；　〃anne；　remember　to　。　。　。　margot；　jot　this　down。　。　。　鈥?br />
  after　a　while　its　quiet　again。　margot　slams　her　book　shut；　father　knits　his　forehead；　his　eyebrows　forming　a　funny　curve　and　his　wrinkle　of　concentration　reappearing　i　at　the　back　of　his　head；　and　he　buries　himself　in　his　book　1　again；　mother　starts　chatting　with　margot；　and　i　get　curious　and　listen　too。　pim　is　drawn　into　the　conversation　。　。　。
  nine　oclock。　breakfast！
  锛凤挤锛贰i锛s锛╱o锛达几锛础?br />
  SEPTEMBER；　1943
  灏彙ｈ銆倀！xt…澶╁爞
  friday；　september　10；　1943
  dearest　kitty；
  every　time　i　write　to　you；　something　special　has　happened；　usually　unpleasant　rather　than　pleasant。　this　time；　however；　something　wonderful　is　going　on。
  on　wednesday；　september　8；　we　were　listening　to　the　seven　oclock　news　when　we　heard　an　announcement：　〃here　is　some　of　the　best　news　of　the　war　so　far：　italy　has　capitulated。〃　italy　has　unconditionally　surrendered！　the　dutch　broadcast　from　england　began　at　eight…fifteen　with　the　news：　〃listeners；　an　hour　and　fifteen　minutes　ago；　just　as　i　finished　writing　my　daily　report；　we　received　the　wonderful　news　of　italys　capitulation。　i　tell　you；　i　never　tossed　my　notes　into　the　wastepaper　basket　with　more　delight　than　i　did　today！鈥?br />
  〃god　save　the　king；〃　the　american　national　anthem