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　old　man　never　understood　a　word　of　fathers　lengthy　replies　anyway。

today　mr。　dreher　phoned　the　office　and　asked　mr。　kugler　to　e　and　see　him。　mr。

kugler　wasnt　in　the　mood　and　said　he　would　send　miep；　but　miep　canceled　the　appointment。　mrs。　dreher　called　the　office　three　times；　but　since　miep　was　reportedly　out　the　entire　afternoon；　she　had　to　imitate　beps　voice。　downstairs　in　the　office　as　well　as　upstairs　in　the　annex；　there　was　great　hilarity。　now　each　time　the　phone　rings；　bep　says　thats　mrs。　dreher！〃　and　miep　has　to　laugh；　so　that　the　people　on　the　other　end　of　the　line　are　greeted　with　an　impolite　giggle。　cant　you　just　picture　it？

this　has　got　to　be　the　greatest　office　in　the　whole　wide　world。　the　bosses　and　the

office　girls　have　such　fun　together！

some　evenings　i　go　to　the　van　daans　for　a　little　chat。　we　eat　〃mothball　cookies鈥�

（molasses　cookies　that　were　stored　in　a　closet　that　was　mothproofed）　and　have　a　good　time。　recently　the　conversation　was　about　peter。　i　said　that　he　often　pats　me　on　the　cheek；　which　i　dont　like。　they　asked　me　in　a　typically　grown…up　way　whether　i　could　ever　learn　to　love　peter　like　a　brother；　since　he　loves　me　like　a　sister。　〃oh；　no！〃　i　said；　but　what　i　was　thinking　was；　〃oh；　ugh！〃　just　imagine！　i　added　that　peters　a　bit　stiff；　perhaps　because　hes　shy。　boys　who　arent　used　to　being　around　girls　are　like　that。

i　must　say　that　the　annex　mittee　（the　mens　section）　is　very　creative。　listen　to　the　scheme　theyve　e　up　with　to　get　a　message　to　mr。　broks；　an　opekta　co。　sales　representative　and　friend　whos　surreptitiously　hidden　some　of　our　things　for　us！

theyre　going　to　type　a　letter　to　a　store　owner　in　southern　zealand　who　is；　indirectly；　one　of　opekta　s　customers　and　ask　him　to　fill　out　a　form　and　send　it　back　in　the　enclosed　self…addressed　envelope。　father　will　write　the　address　on　the　envelope　himself。　once　the　letter　is　returned　from　zealand；　the　form　can　be　removed　and　a　handwritten　message　confirming　that　father　is　alive　can　be　inserted　in　the　envelope。

this　way　mr。　broks　can　read　the　letter　without　suspecting　a　ruse。　they　chose　the　province　of　zealand　because　its　close　to　belgium　（a　letter　can　easily　be　smuggled　across　the　border）　and　because　no　one　is　allowed　to　travel　there　without　a　special　permit。　an　ordinary　salesman　like　mr。　broks　would　never　be　granted　a　permit。

yesterday　father　put　on　another　act。　groggy　with　sleep；　he　stumbled　off　to　bed。　his　feet　were　cold；　so　i　lent　him　my　bed　socks。　five　minutes　later　he　flung　them　to　the　floor。　then　he　pulled　the　blankets　over　his　head　because　the　light　bothered　him。　the　lamp　was　switched　off；　and　he　gingerly　poked　his　head　out　from　under　the　covers。　it　was　all　very　amusing。　we　started　talking　about　the　fact　that　peter　says　margot　is　a　〃buttinsky。〃　suddenly　daddys　voice　was　heard　from　the　depths：　〃sits　on　her　butt；　you　mean。

mouschi；　the　cat；　is　being　nicer　to　me　as　time　goes　by；　but　im　still　somewhat　afraid　of　her。

yours；　anne　

sunday；　september　27；　1942

dearest　kitty；

mother　and　i　had　a　so…called　〃discussion〃　today；　but　the　annoying　part　is　that　i　burst　into　tears。　i　cant　help　it。　daddy　is　always　nice　to　me；　and　he　also　understands　me　much　better。　at　moments　like　these　i　cant　stand　mother。　its　obvious　that　im　a　stranger　to　her；　she　doesnt　even　know　what　i　think　about　the　most　ordinary　things。

we　were　talking　about　maids　and　the　fact　that　youre　supposed　to　refer　to　them　as　〃domestic　help〃　these　days。　she　claimed　that　when　the　war　is　over；　thats　what　theyll　want　to　be　called。　i　didnt　quite　see　it　that　way。　then　she　added　that　i　talk　about　later〃　so　often　and　that　i　act　as　if　i　were　such　a　lady；　even　though　im　not；　but　i　dont　think　building　sand　castles　in　the　air　is　such　a　terrible　thing　to　do；　as　long　as　you　dont　take　it　too　seriously。　at　any　rate；　daddy　usually　es　to　my　defense。

without　him　i　wouldnt　be　able　to　stick　it　out　here。

i　dont　get　along　with　margot　very　well　either。　even　though　our　family　never　has　the　same　kind　of　outbursts　they　have　upstairs；　i　find　it　far　from　pleasant。　margots　and　mothers　personalities　are　so　alien　to　me。　i　understand　my　girlfriends　better　than　my　own　mother。　isnt　that　a　shame？

for　the　umpteenth　time；　mrs。　van　daan　is　sulking。　shes　very　moody　and　has　been　removing　more　and　more　of　her　belongings　and　locking　them　up。　its　too　bad　mother　doesnt　repay　every　van　daan　〃disappearing　act〃　with　a　frank　〃disappearing　act。鈥�

some　people；　like　the　van　daans；　seem　to　take　special　delight　not　only　in　raising　their　own　children　but　in　helping　others　raise　theirs。　margot　doesnt　need　it；　since　shes　naturally　good；　kind　and　clever；　perfection　itself；　but　i　seem　to　have　enough　mischief　for　the　two　of　us。　more　than　once　the　air　has　been　filled　with　the　van　daans　admonitions　and　my　saucy　replies。　father　and　mother　always　defend　me　fiercely。

without　them　i　wouldnt　be　able　to　jump　back　into　the　fray　with　my　usual　posure。

they　keep　telling　me　i　should　talk　less；　mind　my　own　business　and　be　more　modest；　but　i　seem　doomed　to　failure。　if　father　werent　so　patient；　id　have　long　ago　given　up　hope　of　ever　meeting　my　parents　quite　moderate　expectations。

if　i　take　a　small　helping　of　a　vegetable　i　loathe　and　eat　potatoes　instead；　the　van　daans；　especially　mrs。　van　daan；　cant　get　over　how　spoiled　i　am。　〃e　on；　anne；　eat　some　more　vegetables；〃　she　says。

〃no；　thank　you；　maam；〃　i　reply。　〃the　potatoes　are　more　than　enough。鈥�

〃vegetables　are　good　for　you；　your　mother　says　so　too。　have　some　more；〃　she　insists；　until　father　intervenes　and　upholds　my　right　to　refuse　a　dish　i　dont　like。

then　mrs。　van　d。　really　flies　off　the　handle：　〃you　should　have　been　at　our　house；　where　children　were　brought　up　the　way　they　should　be。　i　dont　call　this　a　proper　upbringing。　anne　is　terribly　spoiled。　id　never　allow　that。　if　anne　were　my　daughter。　。

。鈥�

this　is　always　how　her　tirades　begin　and　end：　〃if　anne　were　my　daughter。　。　。〃　thank　goodness　im　not。

but　to　get　back　to　the　subject　of　raising　children；　yesterday　a　silence　fell　after　mrs。

van　d。　finished　her　little　speech。　father　then　replied；　〃i　think　anne　is　very　well　brought　up。　at　least　shes　learned　not　to　respond　to　your　interminable　sermons。　as　far　as　the　vegetables　are　concerned；　all　i　have　to　say　is　look　whos　calling　the　kettle　black。鈥�

mrs。　van　d。　was　soundly　defeated。　the　pot　calling　the　ketde　black　refers　of　course　to　madame　herself；　since　she　cant　tolerate　beans　or　any　kind　of　cabbage　in　the　evening　because　they　give　her　〃gas。〃　but　i　could　say　the　same。　what　a　dope；　dont　you　think？

in　any　case；　lets　hope　she　stops　talking　about　me。

its　so　funny　to　see　how　quickly　mrs。　van　daan　flushes。　i　dont；　and　it　secredy　annoys　her　no　end。

yours；　anne　

monday；　september　28；1942

dearest　kitty；

i　had　to　stop　yesterday；　though　i　was　nowhere　near　finished。　im　dying　to　tell　you　about　another　one　of　our　clashes；　but　before　i　do　id　like　to　say　this：　i　think　its　odd　that　grown…ups　quarrel　so　easily　and　so　often　and　about　such　petty　matters。　up　to　now　i　always　thought　bickering　was　just　something　children　did　and　that　they　outgrew　it。　often；　of　course；　theres　sometimes　a　reason　to　have　a　real　quarrel；　but　the　verbal　exchanges　that　take　place　here　are　just　plain　bickering。　i　should　be　used　to　the　fact　that　these　squabbles　are　daily　occurrences；　but　im　not　and　never　will　be　as　long　as　im　the　subject　of　nearly　every　discussion。　（they　refer　to　these　as　〃discussions鈥�

instead　of　〃quarrels；〃　but　germans　dont　know　the　difference！）　they　criticize　everything；　and　i　mean　everything；　about　me：　my　behavior；　my　personality；　my　manners；　every　inch　of　me；　from　head　to　toe　and　back　again；　is　the　subject　of　gossip　and　debate。　harsh　words　and　shouts　are　constantly　being　flung　at　my　head；　though　im　absolutely　not　used　to　it。　according　to　the　powers　that　be；　im　supposed　to　grin　and

bear　it。　but　i　cant！　i　have　no　intention　of　taking　their　insults　lying　down。　ill　show　them　that　anne　frank　wasnt　born　yesterday。　theyll　sit　up　and　take　notice　and　keep　their　big　mouths　shut　when　i　make　them　see　they　ought　to　attend　to　their　own　manners　instead　of　mine。　how　dare　they　act　that　way！　its　simply　barbaric。　ive　been　astonished；　time　and　again；　at　such　rudeness　a