rs of the
Fourth were sitting round the playroom fire indulging in oranges,
which Miss Kaye had given as a special treat.

"I like to suck mine with a lump of sugar," said Gwennie. "If you do
it carefully you can get every scrap of orange out without breaking
the peel."

"I can't eat orangeth," sighed Sadie Thompson pensively. "They alwayth
make me thick."

"Make you thin, I should think," laughed Marian. "You're the skinniest
little creature I ever saw."

"I don't mean fat, I mean thick--ill."

"Oh, sick! Then why don't you say so?"

"Becauthe I can't help lithping," replied Sadie, who was rather proud
of her accomplishment, and did not make any great effort to overcome
it.

"I wish I lisped," said Connie Camden enviously. "I'd have such fun
with Miss Arkwright in the reading lesson. She'd stop for five minutes
worrying over one word. Don't you remember when I pretended I couldn't
say 'meritorious'? I'm going to cut my orange in half if anybody will
lend me a penknife."

"Where's your own?"

"Lost it long ago. I never can keep them. I got one in my Christmas
stocking and another on my birthday, and I had a new one at the
beginning of this term, but they're all gone. My pencil wore down to
such a perfect stump yesterday I couldn't finish my sums, and I
daren't borrow, because Miss Arkwright said she'd give a bad-conduct
mark to the first girl who spoke one word. I tried to signal to Nina,
but she wouldn't look. Hazel, lend me yours!"

"No thanks!" replied Hazel. "Not to cut oranges. It's a new one and
you'd spoil it."

"Oh, you mean thing! Who'll be generous?"

"You may have this if you like," said Sylvia. "I don't much mind if
you keep it; it's only an old one, and I have another in my pencil
box."

"You dear, I'd love it! I shall have to give you something in
exchange, though, or else it will be unlucky. What will you have?" And
Connie turned out the very miscellaneous contents of her pockets,
displaying various stumps of lead pencil, a much worn indiarubber, a
buttonhook, two or three dominoes, a walnut shell, some acorn cups, a
stone with a hole in it, a whistle, a sticky piece of toffee, and a
calendar.

"I don't want any of them," said Sylvia, shaking her head.

"But you must. Knives cut love, and we shall quarrel if you don't. The
calendar's not much good; it's last year's, and I only kept it for the
picture of the dog on the back. But have this," pressing one of the
pencils into her hand.