"Take this, little one, for your rosy cheeks and smiling face."
The lady threw out a three-penny piece, as the driver stopped his car and asked Norah how far it was to the lakes of Killarney.
"Four miles, sir, if ye keep straight on this road," was the answer.
"Do you mean four Irish miles?" asked one of the gentlemen. "For, if you do, we have an hour's good drive before us."
"Sure, and I always supposed a mile is a mile," answered Norah, with a perplexed look in her eyes.
The gentleman laughed, and said, "If you go to America when you grow up, you will find that two of our miles will almost make one of yours."
The car passed on, and the children stood watching the travellers out of sight.
"Isn't it grand to be travelling like that, Katie?" said her sister. "A jaunting-car is one of the finest things in the world."
But the people who were in the carriage did not agree with her.
"Dear me!" said the lady, "I'm afraid of falling out whenever the horse goes fast. And as for this beautiful country, I can only see what is on one side of the road at a time."