Free When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr Page A

yet?” asked Anna. Papa looked at his watch.
    “Ten years old exactly.” He hugged her. “Happy, happy birthday, and very many happy returns!”
    And just as he said it the boat’s lights came on. There was only a sprinkling of white bulbs round the rails which left the deck almost as dark as before, but the cabin suddenly glowed yellow and at the back of the boat the ship’s lantern shone a brilliant purply-blue.
    “Isn’t it lovely!” cried Anna and somehow, suddenly, she no longer minded about her birthday and her presents. It seemed rather fine and adventurous to be a refugee, to have no home and not to know where one was going to live. Perhaps at a pinch it might even count as a difficult childhood like the ones in Gunther’s book and she would end up by being famous.
    As the boat steamed back to Zurich she snuggled up to Papa and they watched the blue light from the ship’s lantern trailing through the dark water behind them.
    “I think I might quite like being a refugee,” said Anna.

Chapter Nine
    The summer wore on and suddenly it was the end of term. On the last day there was a celebration at school with a speech by Herr Graupe, an exhibition of needlework by the girls, a gym display by the boys and much singing and yodelling by everyone. At the end of the afternoon each child was presented with a sausage and a hunk of bread, and they wandered home through the village chewing and laughing and making plans for the next day. The summer holidays had begun.
    Max did not finish until a day or two later. At the High School in Zurich the term did not end with yodelling and sausages but with reports. Max brought home his usual quota of comments like “Does not try” and “Shows no interest”, and he and Anna sat through the usual gloomy lunch while Mama and Papa read them. Mama was particularly disappointed because, while she had got used to Max not trying and showing no interest in Germany, she had somehow hoped it might be different in Switzerland—because Max was clever, only he did not work. But the only difference was that whereas in Germany Max had neglected his work to play football, in Switzerland he neglected it in order to fish, and the results were much the same.
    It was amazing, thought Anna, how he went on with his fishing even though he never caught anything. Even the Zwirn children had begun to tease him about it. “Bathing worms again?” they would say as they passed him and he would scowl at them furiously, unable to shout an insult back for fear of disturbing some fish that might just be going to bite.
    When Max was not fishing he and Anna and the three Zwirn children swam in the lake and played together or went for walks in the woods. Max got on well with Franz, and Anna had become quite fond of Vreneli. Trudi was only six, but she trailed along behind no matter what the others were doing. Sometimes they were joined by Roesli and once even by the red-haired boy who studiously ignored both Anna and Vreneli and only talked about football to Max.
    Then one morning Anna and Max came down to find the Zwirn children playing with a boy and a girl they had never seen before. They were German, about their own ages, and were spending a holiday with their parents at the inn.
    “Which part of Germany do you come from?” asked Max.
    “Munich,” said the boy.
    “We used to live in Berlin,” said Anna.
    “Gosh,” said the boy, “Berlin must be marvellous.”
    They all played chase together. It had never been much fun before because there had only been four of them—(Trudi did not count because she could not run fast enough and always cried when anyone caught her). But the German children were both very quick on their feet and for the first time the game was really exciting. Vreneli had just caught the German boy, and he caught Anna, so now it was Anna’s turn to catch someone and she chased after the German girl. They raced round and round the courtyard of the inn, doubling back and forth