The Curlytops and Trouble wandered around among the ranch buildings.
Daddy Martin, seeing that the children were all right, left them to
themselves.
"I'se hungry," said Trouble, after a bit.
"So'm I," added Teddy. "Do you s'pose that funny Chinaman would give
us a cookie, Jan?"
"Chinamen don't know how to make cookies."
"Well, maybe they know how to make something just as good. Let's go
around to the cook house--that's what Aunt Millie calls it."
The cook house was easy to find, for from it came a number of good
smells, and, as they neared it, the Curlytops saw the laughing face
of the Chinese cook peering out at them.
"Lil' gal hungly--li' boy hungly?" asked Hop Sing in his funny talk.
"Got any cookies?" inquired Teddy.
"No glot clooklies--glot him clake," the Chinese answered.
"What does he say?" asked Janet of her brother.
"I guess he means cake," whispered Teddy, and that was just what Hop
Sing did mean. He brought out some nice cake on a plate and Trouble
and the Curlytops had as much as was good for them, if not quite all
they wanted.
"Glood clake?" asked Hop Sing, when nothing but the crumbs were left
--and not many of them.
"I guess he means was it good cake," then whispered Janet to her
little brother.
"Yes, it was fine and good!" exclaimed Teddy. "Thank you."
"You mluch welclome--clome some mo'!" laughed Hop Sing, as the
children moved away.
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