Just as she was beginning to be sorry she had not Marta to turn to in time of need, she saw a milk–seller milking her cow in front of a house.
The milk–sellers in Italy, especially in small towns, use their cows as milk wagons. They halt the animals before the doors of their customers, and milk what the purchasers want.
Pappina approached the rosy–cheeked woman who sat milking.
"I am hungry," she said, eyeing the milk wistfully. "If I sing for you, will you give me a drink of milk?"
The milk–vender had many children of her own. She looked kindly into Pappina's eager, flushed face as she replied:
"You need not sing to earn the milk. All Betty's milk is sold, but she will give an extra glass for a hungry little girl; won't you, Betty?" She stroked her cow as she spoke.
Pappina drank the milk, sang a little song, and, refreshed, moved happily on.
"First I will go to mass," she promised herself as she pursued her way. "Then the crowd will fill my tambourine and I can go home to my mother. Oh, I want so to see them all!"
In her confusion she retraced her steps. Suddenly she caught sight of Guiseppe, who was gesticulating wildly.
"Oh," she cried, "I hate him! Perhaps he remembered that it is fete day and went back for me. I won't let him find me. I must run and hide."