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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。”
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。”
〃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。 。
。”
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。”
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”
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 and mos