"Oh—I don't know," laughed little Lucy. "Don't we treat you as well as if you were? Ladies and gentlemen treat ladies and gentlemen like wangs in America. Don't we, mother?"
"I trust so. I trust our little Sky-High has found it so," answered Lucy's mother.
"So would Sky-High treat you were you to come to his home," said the little Chinaman.
"But you have no home, Sky-High," broke in Charlie. "You said you lived with a mandarin!"
The little Chinaman, who had a beautiful fan in his hand, for it was a hot night, made his mistress and her children a bow of indescribable grace, and went to his own quarters.
X.
SKY-HIGH'S EASTER SUNDAY.
The little Chinaman seemed to make no very great task of learning "the art of the American home." His small deft olive hand was more or less upon everything, from cellar to attic.