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her metal curls stayed firm. ‘All the fine strong men are in the army, and just old men and boys to help us now.’
    If the farm had been bigger, she explained, the boys—her sons—might have been given a deferment from the army, so they could help the Führer by growing food for the soldiers of the Reich.
    ‘Of course, they are proud to be fighting too,’ said Frau Leib hurriedly, with a sideways look at Heidi. ‘We all have to do what we can.’
    Several times Heidi noticed Frau Leib slip a little flour or a twist of sugar into the pocket of her coat that was hung by the back door when she came to work. But Heidi did not speak of it. She and Fräulein Gelber had more than they needed, and she now knew from Frau Leib that most people were going hungry, even here in the country with the cows and goats and pigs.
    Frau Leib took their scraps to feed to the hens, and the dishwater to feed to the pigs. ‘It will just go to waste else,’ said Frau Leib reasonably, as she slipped a piece of leftover sausage into the hens’ bin that they could very well have had for lunch the next day.
    ‘Could we keep hens?’ Heidi asked Fräulein Gelber.
    Fräulein Gelber shook her head. ‘They are dirty things,’ she said. ‘Besides, Frau Leib will sell us all the eggs we need.’
    It was funny with Frau Leib in the kitchen. No one had ever talked to Heidi so freely before. Sometimes Heidi thought that Frau Leib wasn’t talking to her, but was just talking because she was uncomfortable when her mouth was still.
    Did Frau Leib talk even when she was walking home by herself? she wondered. Did she talk to the starlings and the thrushes and the blackbirds perhaps…But it was good to listen to Frau Leib’s conversation. There was so much to learn that no one had ever mentioned to her before.
    ‘…and the blacksmith keeps the cows shod—oh yes, the cows must have shoes just like the horses if they are to work—and the scythes whetted…You have never seen the blacksmith work? But all the children hang around the forge after school! The banging and the clanging and the hot fire…you must come down this afternoon then…but perhaps not,’ said Frau Leib, pushing the broom and remembering.
    ‘It’s the fat that makes a good pig,’ explained Frau Leib one day, as she worked the pastry on the thick marble board. ‘The fat not only gives flavour, you understand, it helps the meat keep well. A sausagewithout fat is tasteless, but it also dries out, and sometimes goes bad. But not all food will put fat on a pig of course. Fat produces fat—that’s what you have to remember. Corn is good, because corn is yellow like fat is yellow.
    ‘And you want to know a secret?’ asked Frau Leib, her red hands bashing the bread dough. ‘You want to know why in all these years our cows have never lost a calf? Never! ’
    ‘Please,’ said Heidi, though she knew by now there was no need to say anything to keep Frau Leib talking.
    ‘The secret is beer!’ said Frau Leib triumphantly, giving her dough an extra good push. ‘You give the cow a good drink of beer as soon as it has calves, and it makes the milk flow and makes her mellow, you understand, so she looks after her calf better. A good bucket of beer, that’s what you need…’
    ‘I have brought you a present,’ Frau Leib said one day, as she took off her hat and gloves and coat and hung them on the peg by the door.
    ‘What is it?’ demanded Heidi.
    Frau Leib smiled. ‘It’s in my coat pocket.’
    Heidi peered into the pocket. There was something in the bottom; something small and warm.
    ‘A rabbit!’ she cried, lifting it out. The rabbit was soft and black and white and twitched its nose.
    ‘It’s a doe,’ said Frau Leib, smiling. ‘When she gets bigger you can breed it to our buck and then you’ll have lots of rabbits, and I’ll show you how to make rabbit pie.’
    ‘Look at its whiskers!’ cried Heidi delighted. ‘Thank you, Frau Leib!’
    ‘You’re a good girl,’