When Mother Van Hove returned from the pasture, fifteen minutes later, her orders had all been carried out. Pier was in the pasture, the hens were shut up for the night, and the pig, which had been squealing with hunger, was now grunting with satisfaction over her evening meal; Fidel was gnawing a bone, and Father Van Hove was already washing his hands at the pump, beside the kitchen door.
"You are all good children," said the mother as she set down her brimming pail and took her turn at the wash-basin and the soap. "Jan and Marie, have you washed your hands?"
"I have," called Marie from the kitchen, "and supper is ready and the table set."
"I washed my hands in the canal this morning," pleaded Jan. "Won't that do?"
"You ate your lunch this noon, too," answered his mother promptly. "Won't that do? Why do you need to eat again when you have already eaten twice today?"
"Because I am hungry again," answered Jan.

License information: nan
MPAA: G
Go to source: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/3642/3642-h/3642-h.htm