It really didn’t seem fast to the Man Mite, so he said: “How far is it?”
“From Arctic C. to Aurora B.”
“What do you mean by Arctic C. and Aurora B.?”
“Arctic Circle to Aurora Borealis, of course. That run was an excursion, too. We always go to the Aurora B. for the Fourth. Fine fireworks there.”
“The Fourth? Do you celebrate the Fourth?”
“O’ course.”
“But you’re not Americans, are you?”
“No; that’s the worst of it. We got to celebrate everything, holidays and saints days and kings’ and queens’ birthdays, and the whole bunch. That’s because we belong to all nations.”
“Christmas is the best, isn’t it?” smiled the Man Mite.
“Worst o’ the lot,” said Santy Jr., shortly.