HEIDI
“For me?” said Clara in astonishment, her curiosity very much excited, “bring it in at once that I may see what it is like.”
Sebastian carried in a large covered basket and retired. “I think the lessons had better be finished first before the basket is unpacked,” said Fräulein Rottenmeier.
Clara could not conceive what was in it, and cast longing glances towards it. In the middle of one of her declensions she suddenly broke off and said to the tutor, “Mayn’t I just give one peep inside to see what is in it before I go on?”
“On some considerations I am for it, on others against it,” he began in answer; “for it, on the ground that if your whole attention is directed to the basket—” but the speech remained unfinished. The cover of the basket was loose, and at this moment one, two, three, and then two more, and again more kittens came suddenly tumbling on to the floor and racing about the room in every direction, and with such indescribable rapidity that it seemed as if the whole room was full of them. They jumped over the tutor's boots, bit at his trousers, climbed up Fräulein Rottenmeier’s dress, rolled about her feet, sprang up on to Clara's couch, scratching, scrambling, and mewing: it was a sad scene of confusion. Clara, meanwhile, pleased with their gambols, kept on exclaiming, “Oh, the dear little things! how pretty they are! Look, Heidi, at this one; look, look, at that one over there!” And Heidi in her delight kept running after them first into one corner and then into the other. The tutor stood up by the table not knowing what to do, lifting first his right foot and then his left to get it away from the scrambling, scratching kittens. Fräulein Rottenmeier was unable at first to speak at all, so overcome was she with horror, and she
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