Good gracious! what had become of it? She had plaited it up that very
morning, and hung it on the stand. "Where's my cap?" the old woman at
last inquired. "Never mind, mother," said her daughter-in-law bending
toward her, "I'll get it directly." "Is it done up yet?" The young woman
nodded, and thought, surely grandmother will be satisfied now, but the
old woman glanced into every corner of the room to see what she could
find out. Braesig's countenance changed when he heard the cap spoken of,
and he looked about him hastily to see where the "beastly thing" could
have got to, but in another moment old Mrs. Nuessler pointed at little
Louisa Hawermann, and said with a venomous smile, like a stale roll
dipped in fly-poison: "It must be plaited all over again." "What's the
matter?" cried her daughter-in-law, and starting up as she spoke, she
saw the ends of the cap ribbons hanging down below the hem of the
child's frock; she lifted her niece off the chair, and was going to have
picked up the cap, but the old woman was too quick for her. She seized
her crumpled head-gear, and when she saw the flattened puffs, and
Braesig's bit of pack-thread hanging half in and half out of the caser,
her wrath boiled over, and holding up her cap so that every one might
see it, exclaimed: "Good for nothing chit!" and was going to have struck
the little girl over the head with her cap.
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