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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�
〃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�
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�
〃im not getting it dirty。鈥�
another brief silence。 〃putti； why dont you sit down？ 〃im fine this way。 i like standing up！鈥�
silence。
〃putti； look out； du spritzt schon！〃。* ＇*now youre splashing！＇ 〃i know； mommy； but im being careful。鈥�
mrs。 van d。 casts about for another topic。 〃tell me； putti； why arent the british
carrying out any bombing raids today？鈥�
〃because the weathers bad； kerli！鈥�
〃but yesterday it was such nice weather and they werent flying then either。鈥�
〃lets drop the subject。鈥�
〃why？ cant a person talk about that or offer an opinion？ 〃well； why in the world not？鈥�
〃oh； be quiet； mammichen！〃* ＇*mommy＇ 〃mr。 frank always answers his wife。鈥�
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�
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�
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�
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�
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�
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�
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！
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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�
〃god save the king；〃 the american national anthem