"To-morrow!" accepted the child.
While he ate, Aunt Tatàna moved about preparing her husband's supper. She talked to Anania and gave him good counsels which she said she had herself been taught by King Solomon and Holy Saint Catharine.
Suddenly the round visage of the boy Bustianeddu appeared at the window.
"Get away, little frog!" she said, "it's cold."
"Yes, it's cold," he returned, "so please let me come in."
"Why aren't you at the mill?"
"They've sent me away. There's such a crowd there."
"Well, come in," said the woman, opening the door. "Come in, poor orphan, you also are without a mother! What's Uncle Anania doing? Is he angry still?"
"Oh I suppose so!" said Bustianeddu, sitting down and gnawing the core of the stranger child's pear.
"They've all arrived," he went on, discoursing and gesticulating like a grown person; "my father, and Maestro Pane, and Uncle Pera, and that liar Franziscu Carchide, and Aunt Corredda, every single one of them——"