over her want of violets. November raged up and down, declaring that he must have a turkey. "And what do you think," grumbled March, "the world is going to say, when we all come in docked after this ridiculous fashion? The tides will be wrong and the almanac-makers will tear their hair. The moon will go wandering about like a lunatic. And all because a little boy in the Black Forest couldn't keep his hands out of what didn't belong to him. Oh, fie! fie! wait till my turn comes! won't I blow you about!"
And the Months clustered about poor Max, scolding, threatening, crying, till he didn't know which way to look. He began to feel dreadfully ashamed of himself, especially as Thekla was sobbing as loudly as April, and imploring him to make amends. But he kept up a bold front.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I think you're very unreasonable. Time belongs to us all. I never had so much to myself before, and I mean to keep it unless you make it worth my while to give it up."
