December 24th. Christmas Eve afternoon is horrid. One does not know what
to be at. I'm not allowed to go skating so the best thing is to write.
Oswald came home yesterday. Everyone says he's looking splendid; I think
he's awfully pale and he snorted when everyone said he had such a fine
colour; of course, how can he look well when he has such a _heartache_.
I wish I could tell him that I understand what he feels, but he's too
proud to accept sympathy from me. He has wished for an army revolver for
Christmas, but I don't think he'll get one for boys at the middle school
are not allowed to have any firearms. Not long ago at a Gymnasium in
Galicia one of the boys shot a master out of revenge; they said it was
because the boy was getting on badly with his work, but really it was
about a girl, although the master was 36 years old. This morg. I was
in town with Oswald shopping; we met the Warths, Elli and . . . Robert.
Oswald said that Elli was quite nice-looking but that Robert was an ugly
beast. Besides, he can't stand him he said, because he glared at me so.
If only he knew what happened in the summer! I was awfully condescending
to Robert and that made him furious. If one could only save you girls
from all the troubles which the world calls "Love," said Oswald on the
way home. I was just going to say "I know that you're unhappy in love
and I can feel for you," when Inspee came round the corner of the
Bognergasse with her chum and 2 officers were following them, so none
of them saw us. "Great Scott, Frieda's full-fledged now," said Oswald,
"she's a little tart." I can't stand that sort of vulgarity so I did
not say another word all the way home. He noticed and said to Mother:
"Gretl's mouth has been frozen up from envy." That's all. But it was
really disgusting of him and now I know what line to take.

Just a moment for a word or two. The whole Christmas Eve has gone to
pot. A commissionaire came with a bouquet for Dora and Father is fuming.