"You smell of anise-seed; who has given it to you? Mind, don't tell lies."
Then I told everything.
"I don't believe you. You are a liar."
"No; come and see."
"Certainly I wish to see."
She then came down, and taking the flask in her hand, looked at it, smelled it, and tasted it. Apparently she must have drunk a little, for as soon as she had put down the flask and shut up the room, she began to totter, and could not stand on her feet. With difficulty I succeeded in getting her up-stairs, where, as soon as her mother saw her in that state, there ensued a serious scene. They all talked and scolded at once—the three girls who had not drank the anise-seed, as well as the mamma; and when I tried to explain how the thing had happened, I felt two slaps in the face, which were given with such force that I was stunned. My ideas became so confused that I was not able to say anything. Fortunately the girl spoke, and said—
"Nanni is not at fault."
At these words the mistress said—
"Go at once to the shop. Master shall know everything this evening."
I did not breathe a word, and even she said nothing about it to the master, nor was I scolded by him, or by the Signora Carolina (the mistress). Some days after I returned to knead the clay, but the flask of cordial had disappeared.