ALLMERS. Oh, no; I don't believe it. Now you ought to go and play a
little in the garden.

EYOLF. Should I not take some books with me?

ALLMERS. No, no books after this. You had better go down to the
beach to the other boys.

EYOLF. [Shyly.] No, Papa, I won't go down to the boys to-day.

ALLMERS. Why not?

EYOLF. Oh, because I have these clothes on.

ALLMERS. [Knitting his brows.] Do you mean that they make fun of--
of your pretty clothes?

EYOLF. [Evasively.] No, they daren't--for then I would thrash them.

ALLMERS. Aha!--then why--?

EYOLF. You see, they are so naughty, these boys. And then they say
I can never be a soldier.

ALLMERS. [With suppressed indignation.] Why do they say that, do
you think?

EYOLF. I suppose they are jealous of me. For you know, Papa, they
are so poor, they have to go about barefoot.