"I wish he would pay you soon then, mother; for I want one so bad. I
dreamed last night that I had one, and just as I was going to eat
it, I waked up. And, since you have been gone, I've been asleep, and
dreamed again that I had a large juicy orange. But don't cry mother.
I know you couldn't get it for me. I'll be very patient."

"I know you will, my dear child," said the mother, putting an arm
about the little sufferer, and drawing her to her bosom; "you have
been good and patient, and mother is only sorry that she has not
been able to get you the orange you want so badly."

"But I don't believe I want it so very, very bad, mother, as I seem
to. I think about it so much--that's the reason I want it, I'm sure.
I'll try and not think about it any more."

"Try, that's a dear, good girl," murmured Mrs. Gaston, as she kissed
her child again, and then turned away to resume once more her
wearying task. Unrolling one of the coarse jackets she had brought
home, she found that it was of heavy beaver cloth, and had to be
sewed with strong thread. For a moment or two, after she spread it
out upon the table, she looked at the many pieces to be wrought up
into a well-finished whole, and thought of the hours of hard labor
it would require to accomplish the task. A feeling of discouragement
stole into her heart, and she leaned her head listlessly upon the
table. But only a moment or two elapsed before a thought of her
children aroused her flagging energies.

It was after eleven o'clock before she was fairly at work. The first
thing to be done, after laying aside the different portions of the