"No, sir, that's what she says. She's a Californian, from away the other side the map. Where the oranges come from. Say, Josephine, did you bring any oranges with you?" inquired Michael.
"Not one," said the little girl, regretfully. "I guess there wasn't time. Mamma and big Bridget had so much packing to do, and Doctor Mack prob'ly didn't think. I wish I had. I do wish I had."
"There are plenty of oranges in this city, child. I presume Peter has some now in his pantry. You may ask him, if you like," said Mr. Smith.
Peter didn't wait for the asking, but disappeared for a few moments, then to return with a dish of them and place them on the table. The eyes of both children sparkled, for it was the finest of fruit, yet they waited until the butler had brought them plates and napkins before beginning their feast. This little action pleased the fastidious old gentleman, and made him realize that small people are less often ill-bred than he had hitherto imagined them to be.
