The quaint Noah's arks, the
woolly dogs and the mewing cats--the moon-faced dolls.
"I don't see how you have made them all."
"Many of them were made years ago, Fraeulein, and I have kept them for
remembrance, but many of them are new. When my son told me that it was
hard for you to get toys, I gathered around me a few old friends who
learned their trade in Nuremberg. We have done much in a few days. We
will do more. We are all patriotic. We will show the Prussians that
the children of America do not lack for toys. What does the Prussian
know of play? He knows only killing and killing and killing."
The old man beat his fist upon the table, "Killing!"
"You see," Ulrich said to Emily, "there are many of us who feel that
way. Yet unthinking people cannot see that we are loyal, that our
hearts beat with the hearts of those who have English blood and French
blood and Italian blood and Dutch blood in their veins, and who have
but one country--America."
The old man had recovered himself. "We are not here to talk of
killing, but of what I and my friends shall make for you. And you are
to have lunch with us? I have planned it, and I won't take 'no,'
Fraeulein.
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