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alf the class is making bets。 g。z。 and i laugh ourselves sick at the two boys behind us； c。n。 and jacques kocernoot； who have staked their entire vacation savings on their bet。 from morning to night； its 〃youre going to pass； no； im not；”
〃yes； you are；〃 〃no； im not。〃 even g。s pleading glances and my angry outbursts cant calm them down。 if you ask me； there are so many dummies that about a quarter of the class should be kept back； but teachers are the most unpredictable creatures on earth。 maybe this time theyll be unpredictable in the right direction for a change。 im not so worried about my girlfriends and myself。
well make it。 the only subject im not sure about is math。 anyway； all we can do is wait。 until then； we keep telling each other not to lose heart。
i get along pretty well with all my teachers。 there are nine of them； seven men and two women。 mr。 keesing； the old fogey who teaches math； was mad at me for the longest time because i talked so much。 after several warnings； he assigned me extra homework。 an essay on the subject 〃a chatterbox。〃 a chatterbox； what can you write about that？ id wbrry about that later； i decided。 i jotted down the assignment in my notebook； tucked it in my bag and tried to keep quiet。
that evening； after id finished the rest of my homework； the note about the essay caught my eye。 i began thinking about the subject while chewing the tip of my fountain pen。 anyone could ramble on and leave big spaces between the words； but the
trick was to e up with convincing arguments to prove the necessity of talking。 i thought and thought； and suddenly i had an idea。 i wrote the three pages mr。 keesing had assigned me and was satisfied。 i argued that talking is a female trait and that i would do my best to keep it under control； but that i would never be able to break myself of the habit； since my mother talked as much as i did； if not more； and that theres not much you can do about inherited traits。
mr。 keesing had a good laugh at my arguments； but when i proceeded to talk my way through the next class； he assigned me a second essay。 this time it was supposed to be on 〃an incorrigible chatterbox。〃 i handed it in； and mr。 keesing had nothing to plain about for two whole classes。 however； during the third class hed finally had enough。 〃anne frank； as punishment for talking in class； write an essay entitled quack； quack； quack； said mistress chatterback。“
the class roared。 i had to laugh too； though id ） nearly exhausted my ingenuity on the topic of chatterboxes。 it was time to e up with something else； j something original。 my friend sanne； whos good at poetry； offered to help me write the essay from beginning to end in verse。 i jumped for joy。 keesing was trying to play a joke on me with this ridiculous subject； but id make sure the joke was on him。 i finished my poem； and it was beautiful！ it was about a mother duck and a father swan with three baby ducklings who were bitten to death by the father because they quacked too much。 luckily； keesing took the joke the right way。 he read the poem to the class； adding his own ments； and to several other classes as well。 since then ive been allowed to talk and havent been assigned any extra homework。 on the contrary； keesings always i making jokes these days。
yours； anne
wednesday； june 24； 1942
dearest kitty；
its sweltering。 everyone is huffing and puffing； and in this heat i have to walk everywhere。 only now do i realize how pleasant a streetcar is； but we jews are no longer allowed to make use of this luxury； our own two feet are good enough for us。
yesterday at lunchtime i had an appointment with the dentist on jan luykenstraat。 its a long way from our school on stadstimmertuinen。 that afternoon i nearly fell asleep at my desk。 fortunately； people automatically offer you something to drink。 the dental assistant is really kind。
the only mode of transportation left to us is the ferry。 the ferryman at josef
israelkade took us across when we asked him to。 its not the fault of the dutch that we jews are having such a bad time。
i wish i didnt have to go to school。 my bike was stolen during easter vacation； and father gave mothers bike to some christian friends for safekeeping。 thank goodness summer vacation is almost here； one more week and our torment will be over。
something unexpected happened yesterday morning。 as i was passing the bicycle racks； i heard my name being called。 i turned around and there was the nice boy id met the evening before at my friend wilmas。 hes wilmas second cousin。 i used to think wilma was nice； which she is； but all she ever talks about is boys； and that gets to be a bore。 he came toward me； somewhat shyly； and introduced himself as hello silberberg。 i was a little surprised and wasnt sure what he wanted； but it didnt take me long to find out。 he asked if i would allow him to acpany me to school。 〃as long as youre headed that way； ill go with you；〃 i said。 and so we walked together。
hello is sixteen and good at telling all kinds of funny stories。
he was waiting for me again this morning； and i expect he will be from now on。
．。
JULY； 1942
生
wednesday； july 1； 1942
dearest kitty；
until today i honestly couldnt find the time to write you。 i was with friends all day thursday； we had pany on friday； and thats how it went until today。
hello and i have gotten to know each other very well this past week； and hes told me a lot about his life。 he es from gelsenkirchen and is living with his grandparents。 his parents are in belgium； but theres no way he can get there。 hello used to have a girlfriend named ursula。 i know her too。 shes perfectly sweet and perfectly boring。 ever since he met me； hello has realized that hes been falling asleep at ursuls side。 so im kind of a pep tonic。 you never know what youre good for！
jacque spent saturday night here。 sunday afternoon she was at hannelis； and i was bored stiff。
hello was supposed to e over that evening； but he called around six。 i answered the phone； and he said； 〃this is helmuth silberberg。 may i please speak to anne？〃
〃oh； hello。 this is anne。”
〃oh； hi； anne。 how are you？〃 “
〃fine； thanks。”
〃i