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Instantly Mr. Sieppe boxed his ears. There was a lamentable scene. August rent the air with his outcries; his father shook him till his boots danced on the jetty, shouting into his face: "Ach, idiot! Ach, imbecile! Ach, miserable! I tol' you he eggsplode. Stop your cry. Stop! It is an order. Do you wish I drow you in der water, eh? Speak. Silence, bube! Mommer, where ist mein stick?
"I know more soh mudge as der grossest liddle fool as you," cried Mr. Sieppe, fiercely, his face purple. "You must give it sh shove!" exclaimed the boy. "Den he eggsplode, idiot!" shouted his father. All at once the boiler of the steamer blew up with a sharp crack. The little tin toy turned over and sank out of sight before any one could interfere. "Ah h! Yah! Yah!" yelled August. "It's go-one!"
"Stand back!" shouted his parent. "You do not know so well as me; dere is dandger. Mitout attention he will eggsplode." "I want to play with ut," protested August, beginning to cry. "Ach, soh; you cry, bube!" vociferated Mr. Sieppe. "Mommer," addressing Mrs. Sieppe, "he will soh soon be ge-whipt, eh?" "I want my boa-wut," screamed August, dancing. "Silence!" roared Mr. Sieppe.