The whelp was so young as to be quite
harmless, but it was far from amiable; Friedel never willingly
approached it, and the snarling and whining replies to all advances
had begun to weary and irritate Ebbo. He dragged it out by its
chain, and, tethering it to a post, made it a mark for his snowballs,
which, kneaded hard, and delivered with hearty good-will by his
sturdy arms, made the poor little beast yelp with pain and terror,
till the more tender-hearted Friedel threw himself on his brother to
withhold him, while Matz stood by laughing and applauding the Baron.
Seeing Ebbo shake Friedel off with unusual petulance, and pitying the
tormented animal, Christina flung a cloak round her head and hastened
down stairs, entering the court just as the terrified whelp had made
a snap at the boy, which was returned by angry, vindictive pelting,
not merely with snow, but with stones. Friedel sprang to her crying,
and her call to Ebbo made him turn, though with fury in his face,
shouting, "He would bite me! the evil beast!"
"Come with me, Ebbo," she said.
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