"I have no sausage to-day."

"Then what have you?"

"Noodle soup, and a cherry pudding."

"Good!" exclaimed the boys in a breath, "we all like pudding."

"Very well, take seats at this table and I will bring in the dinner."

The boys were not slow in obeying; there was no tablecloth but the pine
table was scoured to almost perfect whiteness, and the dishes, few and
poor though they were, glistened.

A large dish of lettuce was set before them, then a bowl of soup at each
plate, and some thick slices of brown bread.

"What drink will you have?" she asked.

"We prefer milk."

"There is no milk. It all went into the pudding, but you can have plenty
of cold coffee."

"No, we will take water, please."

This was brought, and when the soup was finished, the pudding was
brought, and although it was of fair size not a vestige of it was left;
and it was then that Fritz remembered Pixy.