From the steamer she threw down to them mandarins, grapes, ripe figs, yellow apricots, and great velvety peaches; a rain of dainties which would have surprised a gourmand: the poor little things, delighted and afraid at the same time, wondered if the lady, who gave them such beautiful fruit, was a fairy.
The mother then rose; and, coming toward Marsa to thank her, her sunburnt skin glowing a deeper red, the poor woman, with tears in her tired eyes, and a wan smile upon her pale lips, touched, surprised, happy in the pleasure of her children, murmured, faltering and confused: "Ah! Madame! Madame! how good you are! You are too good, Madame!" "We must share what we have!" said Marsa, with a smile.

"See how happy the children are!" "Very happy, Madame.

They are not accustomed to such things.

Say 'Thank you,' to the beautiful lady.

Say 'Thank you,' Jean; you are the oldest.
Say like this: 'Thank-you-Ma-dame.'" "Thank-you-Ma-dame" faltered the boy, raising to Marsa big, timid eyes, which did not understand why anybody should either wish him ill or do him a kindness.