"When you have to go, you always sigh as loud as yesterday and cry: 'Oh, what a shame! Oh, what a shame!' and you think it is fearful." "Quite right, cunning little Maezli," Kurt laughed.
"Come, come, children, now we'll sing instead of quarrelling," the mother admonished them.

"We'll sing 'The lovely moon is risen.' You know all the words of that from beginning to end, Maezli." They all started and finished the whole song in peace.
When the mother came back later on from the beds of the two younger children, the three elder ones sat expectantly around the table, for Kurt had told them of their mother's promise to tell them the story of the family of Wallerstaetten that evening.

They had already placed their mother's knitting-basket on the table in preparation of what was to come, because they knew that she would not tell them a story without knitting at the same time.
Smilingly the mother approached.

"Everything is ready, I see, so I can begin right away." "Yes, and right from the start, please; from the place where the ghost first comes in." The mother looked questioningly at Kurt.

"It seems to me, Kurt, that you still hope to find out about this ghost, whatever I may say to the contrary.