At the last, the
mother produced with much glee three apples and an orange, of which the
children had not known. All eyes fastened on the orange. It was evidently
a great rarity. I watched to see if this test would bring out selfishness.
There was a little silence; just the shade of a cloud. The mother said,
"How shall I divide this? There is one for each of you; and I shall be
best off of all, for I expect big tastes from each of you."
"Oh, give Annie the orange. Annie loves oranges," spoke out the oldest
boy, with a sudden air of a conqueror, and at the same time taking the
smallest and worst apple himself.
"Oh, yes, let Annie have the orange," echoed the second boy, nine years
old.
"Yes, Annie may have the orange, because that is nicer than the apple, and
she is a lady, and her brothers are gentlemen," said the mother, quietly.
Then there was a merry contest as to who should feed the mother with
largest and most frequent mouthfuls; and so the feast went on. Then Annie
pretended to want apple, and exchanged thin golden strips of orange for
bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins; and, as I sat watching her intently,
she suddenly fancied she saw longing in my face, and sprang over to me,
holding out a quarter of her orange, and saying, "Don't you want a taste,
too?" The mother smiled, understandingly, when I said, "No, I thank you,
you dear, generous little girl; I don't care about oranges.
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