Mike loved opening the harmless packages; it made every day Christmas for him.  He particularly enjoyed reading his own name on address labels.  The plunder inside might or might not interest him; usually he gave it to one of the others - and, in the process, at last learned what "property" was in discovering that he could make gifts to his friends.  Anything that nobody wanted wound up in a gully; this included, by definition, all gifts of food, as Jubal was not certain that Mike's nose for "wrongness" extended to poisons - especially after Mike had drunk, through error, a beaker of a poisonous solution Duke had left in the refrigerator he used for his photographic work.  Mike had simply said mildly that the "Iced tea" had a flavor he was not sure that he liked.