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 face when she left the window and sat down beside her work table.

Mux was just repeating a question for the third time, but his mother did not hear him. Loudly raising his voice he said once more: “Oh, mother, why does one have to eat what the cows get?”

“What do you mean, Mux? What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I saw it in my picture book. The leaves the cows get are just the same as those in the kitchen,” he explained none too clearly, but the mother understood him directly. She remembered how interestedly he had looked at the cabbage leaves when the girl had brought them home from market. She also bore in mind a picture in his favorite book, where a stable boy was shown giving a glossy brown cow splendid green leaves to eat.

“So you still have the cabbage in your head, Mux?” said the mother. “You must not be dissatisfied when there are so many poor children who have to go hungry. While you get bread and good vegetables, they may be suffering.”