CORNELLI
ing a new companion. He looked upon her as an old acquaintance, for Dino had talked so much about her. First he took her to see the kitchen.
“But I am sure Dino does not sleep here,” said Cornelli, surprised.
“No, this is the kitchen; there are no beds here,” Mux asserted. “But I shall show you first why Agnes cried one whole hour to-day, or perhaps it was two.” And Mux led his new friend to a whole pile of apple peels which lay in a bucket. “Isn’t Agnes stupid to cry when we get good apple tarts afterwards.”
“But why did she cry?” asked Cornelli, full of sympathy. She knew exactly what it was like when one simply had to cry.
“We don’t know,” retorted Mux.
“But why does the maid not peel the apples?” asked Cornelli again.
“There is no maid, except block-headed Trina,” Mux informed her.
“Who is block-headed Trina?” Cornelli wanted to know.
“She has to help; she is small and fat,” Mux described her. Mama has to show her how to
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