diff options
Diffstat (limited to '30629-h/30629-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 30629-h/30629-h.htm | 14072 |
1 files changed, 14072 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/30629-h/30629-h.htm b/30629-h/30629-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a96a5bb --- /dev/null +++ b/30629-h/30629-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14072 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Chicken Little Jane on the Big John, by + Lily Munsell Ritchie + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> +body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} +p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:0; text-align:justify;padding-right:2ex;} +p + p {margin-top:0; text-indent:1em;} +div.bquote {font-size:1.0em; margin:5px 5%;} +div.bquote p {text-indent:0em; margin-bottom:4px; margin-top:4px;} +div.center {text-indent:0em; margin-bottom:4px; margin-top:4px;} +div.adpage {} +div.adpage p {text-indent:0em; margin-top:1ex;} +p.center {text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} +p.caption {font-size:smaller; text-indent:0em;} +p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} +h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} +h1 {font-size:1.6em;} +h1.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size:190%;} +h2 {display:none;} +a {text-decoration:none;} +div.figcenter p {text-align:center;} +div.figcenter {text-align:center; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; clear:both;} +td.toc1 {text-align:right; padding-right:10px; vertical-align:top;} +td.toc2 {text-align:left; padding-right:40px; vertical-align:top;} +td.toc3 {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} +hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; height: 1px; width: 10em; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;} +hr.pb {border:none; page-break-after:always; margin-top:4em;} +.pagenum {display:none;} +.pncolor {color:inherit;} +img {max-width:100%;} + +@media screen { +hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver;} +.pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} +.pncolor {color:silver;} +img {max-width:80%;} +} + + .center { text-align: center; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> + <h1 class="pg"> + The Project Gutenberg eBook, Chicken Little Jane on the Big John, by Lily + Munsell Ritchie + </h1> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> + <p> + Title: Chicken Little Jane on the Big John + </p> + <p> + Author: Lily Munsell Ritchie + </p> + <p> + Release Date: December 8, 2009 [eBook #30629] + </p> + <p> + Language: English + </p> + <p> + Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + </p> + <p> + ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHICKEN LITTLE JANE ON THE BIG + JOHN*** + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3 class="center"> + E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> and the Project Gutenberg Online + Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> (http://www.pgdp.net) + </h3> + <p> + + </p> + <hr class="full" /> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + CHICKEN LITTLE JANE ON THE BIG JOHN + </h1> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/f0003.jpg" id="img001" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/f0004.jpg" id="img002" alt="" /> + <p class="center caption"> + Came half way across and held out his hand. + </p> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.6em;margin-bottom:30px;"> + Chicken Little Jane + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By<br />LILY MUNSELL RITCHIE + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/f0005.jpg" id="img003" alt="" /> + </div> + <p class="tp"> + <span style="font-variant:small-caps">New York</span><br />BRITTON + PUBLISHING COMPANY + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <p class="tp"> + <span style="font-variant:small-caps">Copyright, 1919, by<br />Britton + Publishing Company, Inc.</span><br />Made in U. S. A. All rights reserved. + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/f0007.jpg" id="img0007" alt="" /> + </div> + <table summary="TOC"> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + I + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + With Huz and Baby Jill in the Pasture + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_1">11</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + II + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Harking Back To Centerville + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_2">27</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + III + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Chicken Little Pays a Visit + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_3">43</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + IV + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + A Cherry Penance + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_4">62</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + V + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + The Guests Arrive + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_5">81</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + VI + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + A Hunting Party + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_6">100</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + VII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Pigs + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_7">123</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + VIII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + A Party and a Picnic + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_8">141</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + IX + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Bread and Polliwogs + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_9">161</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + X + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Supper at the Captain’s + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_10">179</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XI + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Calico and Company + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_11">195</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Dick and Alice Go On Alone + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_12">215</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XIII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Chicken Little and Ernest + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_13">238</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XIV + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Off to Annapolis + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_14">255</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XV + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + School + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_15">273</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XVI + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + The Prairie Fire + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_16">295</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XVII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + The Lost Oyster Supper + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_17">315</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XVIII + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + An April Fool Frolic + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_18">338</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XIX + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + Sherm Hears Bad News + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_19">355</a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="toc1"> + XX + </td> + <td class="toc2"> + The Captain Finds His Own + </td> + <td class="toc3"> + <a href="#link_20">373</a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/f0010.jpg" id="img004" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_1"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_11"></a>11</span> + <img src="images/p0011.jpg" id="img005" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + WITH HUZ AND BABY JILL IN THE PASTURE + </h2> + <p> + “Chicken Little–Chicken Little!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton’s face was flushed with the heat. She was frying + doughnuts over a hot stove and had been calling Chicken Little at + intervals for the past ten minutes. Providence did not seem to have + designed Mrs. Morton for frying doughnuts. She was very sensitive to heat + and had little taste for cooking. She had laid aside her silks and laces + on coming to the ranch, but the poise and dignity that come from years of + gentle living were still hers. Her formal manner always seemed a trifle + out of place in the old farm kitchen. On this particular morning she was + both annoyed and indignant. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_12"></a>12</span>“She is + the most provoking child!” she exclaimed in exasperation as Dr. + Morton stepped into the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Provoking–who?–Chicken Little? What’s the matter + now?” + </p> + <p> + “That child is a perfect fly-away. I can no more lay my hands on her + when I need her than I could on a flea. She is off to the pasture, or out + watching the men plow, or trotting away, no one knows where, with the two + pups. And the worst of it is you encourage her in it, Father. You forget + she is thirteen years old–almost a woman in size! She is too old to + be such a tomboy. She should be spending her time on her music and sewing, + or learning to cook–now that school’s out for the summer.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let up on the music for a year or two, Mother. Chicken Little’s + developing finely. She’s a first rate little cook already. You + couldn’t have prepared a better breakfast yourself than she gave us + that morning you were sick. You don’t realize how much she does help + you, and as to running about the farm, that will be the making of her. She + is growing tall and strong and rosy. You don’t want to make her into + an old woman.” + </p> + <p> + “It is all very well to talk, Father, but I intend to have my only + daughter an accomplished lady, and I think you ought to help me. She is + too old to be <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_13"></a>13</span>wasting + her time this way. But have you any idea where she is? I want to send her + over to Benton’s after eggs. I have used all mine up for settings, + and I can’t make the custard pies you are so fond of, till I get + some.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have an exact idea where she is. Set your kettle back on the + stove a moment and come and see.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton followed him, leaving her doughnuts rather reluctantly. Ranch + life had proved full of hardships to her. The hardships had been + intensified because it was almost impossible to secure competent servants, + or, indeed, servants of any kind. The farmer’s daughters were proud–too + proud to work in a neighbor’s kitchen even if they went shabby or, + as often happened among the poorer ones, barefoot, for lack of the money + they might easily have earned. Mrs. Morton was not a strong woman and the + unaccustomed drudgery was telling on her health and spirits. Dr. Morton, + on the other hand, enjoyed the open-air life and the freedom from + conventional dress and other hampering niceties. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton followed her husband through the long dining room and little + hall to the square parlor beyond. He stopped in the doorway and motioned + her to come quietly. Jane sat curled up in a big <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_14"></a>14</span>chair with two fat, + limp collie pups fast asleep in her lap. She was so lost in a book that + she scarcely seemed to breathe in the minute or two they stood and watched + her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare, why didn’t she answer me when I called?” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,” Dr. Morton called softly. Chicken Little + read placidly on. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,”–a little louder. Still no response. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,” her father raised his voice. Chicken Little + never batted an eyelash. One of the dogs looked up with an inquiring + expression, but apparently satisfying himself that he was not to be + disturbed, dozed off again. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little–Chick-en Lit-tle!” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es,” the girl came to life enough to reply absently. Dr. + Morton turned to his wife with a triumphant grin. + </p> + <p> + “Now, do you see why she didn’t answer? She is several + thousand miles and some hundreds of years away, and she can’t get + back in a hurry–blest be the concentration of childhood!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it she’s reading?” + </p> + <p> + “Kennilworth. Amy Robsart is probably waiting for Leicester at this + identical moment. Why return to prosaic errands and eggs when you can + revel in a world of romance so easily?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_15"></a>15</span>“Father, + you will ruin that child with your indulgence!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton walked deliberately across the room and removed the book from + her daughter’s hands. + </p> + <p> + Jane came to herself with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mother!” + </p> + <p> + “How many times have I told you, little daughter, that there is to + be no novel-reading until your work and your practising are both done? + Here I have been calling you for several minutes and you don’t heed + any more than if you were miles away. I shall put this book away till + evening. Come, I want you to go over to Benton’s and get me four + dozen eggs.” + </p> + <p> + Jane got up inwardly protesting, and in so doing, tumbled the two + surprised and grumbling pups upon the floor. She didn’t mind doing + the errand. She was unusually willing to be helpful though often very + heedless about noticing that help was needed. + </p> + <p> + “Can I go by the pasture, Father? It’s a lot shorter than + round by the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think it’s perfectly safe. There are only about thirty + head of steers there now, and they won’t pay any attention to you. + Well, I must be off. Do you want anything from town, Mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have a list.” + </p> + <p> + “Get it ready, will you, while I go across and see what Marian’s + commissions are.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_16"></a>16</span>“Across” + meant across the road to the white cottage where Frank and Marian and + their beloved baby daughter, Jill, lived. Little Jill was two and a half + years old and everybody’s pet, from Jim Bart, the hired man, to + “Anjen,” which was Jilly’s rendering of Auntie Jane. + Even Huz and Buz, the two collie pups, followed her about adoringly, + licking her hands and face when opportunity offered, to her great + indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Do way, Huz, do way, Buz,” was frequently heard, followed by + a wail if their attentions persisted. + </p> + <p> + The family watched Dr. Morton drive away in the spring wagon down the long + tree-bordered lane. When he was out of sight, Jane picked up the egg + basket and started off toward the pasture gate. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Chicken Little?” Marian called after + her. + </p> + <p> + “To Benton’s for eggs.” + </p> + <p> + “To Benton’s? Let me see, that’s less than a quarter of + a mile, isn’t it? I wonder if you’d mind taking Jilly along. + She could walk that far if you’d go slow, and it’s such a + lovely day, I’d like to have her out in the sunshine–and I’m + horribly busy this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I’ll take her. Come on, Jilly, you lump of + sweetness, we’ll pick some pretty flowers. <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_17"></a>17</span>You aren’t in a + great hurry for the eggs, are you, Mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you get back by eleven it will be all right. I have to + finish the doughnuts and do several other things before I will be ready + for the pies.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a whole hour–we can get back easy in an hour–can’t + we, Jilly-Dilly?” + </p> + <p> + Marian in spite of her busy morning watched them till they entered the + pasture, the sturdy little baby figure pattering along importantly beside + the tall slim girl. + </p> + <p> + “How fast they’re both growing,” she thought. “Jane’s + always so sweet with Jilly–I feel safe when she’s with her.” + </p> + <p> + “O Jane,” she called a moment later, “I wouldn’t + take the pups along if you are going through the pasture. The cattle don’t + like small dogs.” + </p> + <p> + Huz and Buz, after lazily watching the children walk off, had apparently + decided to join them, and were bringing up the rear a few yards behind. + They were fat, rollicking pups, too young and clumsy to be very firm on + their legs as yet. Jane turned round and ordered the rascals home. Marian + called them back also, and after deliberating a moment uncertainly, they + obeyed. They were encouraged to make a choice by a small stick Chicken + Little hurled at them. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_18"></a>18</span>“Go on,” + said Marian, “I’ll see that they don’t follow you.” + </p> + <p> + She coaxed the dogs round to the back of the house and saw them greedily + lapping a saucer of milk before she went back to her work. + </p> + <p> + Buz settled down contentedly in the sunshine after the repast was over, + but Huz, who was more adventurous, hadn’t forgotten that his beloved + Jane and Jilly were starting off some place without him. He gave the + saucer a parting lick around its outer edge to make sure he wasn’t + missing anything, then watched the kitchen door for some fifty seconds + with ears perked up, to see whether any further refreshments or commands + might be expected from that quarter. Marian was singing gaily about her + work in a remote part of the cottage, and Huz presently trotted off round + the corner of the house after the children. + </p> + <p> + They had gone some distance into the pasture, but he tagged along as fast + as his wobbling legs would carry him, whining occasionally because he was + getting tired and felt lonesome so far behind. Huz had never gone out into + the world alone before. + </p> + <p> + Jane and Jilly were enjoying themselves. It was late May and the prairies + were billowy with soft waving grasses and gaily tinted with myriads of + wild flowers. + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t they lovely, Jilly?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_19"></a>19</span>Chicken Little + filled one tiny moist hand with bright blossoms. + </p> + <p> + “And see, dear, here’s a sensitive plant! Look close and see + what the baby leaves do when Anjen touches them. See, they all lie down + close to the mamma stem–isn’t that funny?. Now watch, after a + little they’ll all open up again. Here’s another. Jilly, touch + this one.” + </p> + <p> + Jilly poked out one fat finger doubtfully, and after some coaxing, gave + the pert green leaves a quick dab. They drooped and the child laughed + gleefully. + </p> + <p> + “Do, Mamma, ’eaves do, Mamma!” she shouted. She insisted + on touching every spray in sight. So absorbed were they in this pretty + sport they did not notice that a group of steers off to the right had + lifted their heads from their grazing and were looking in their direction. + Neither did they see a small black and white pup, whose pink ribbon of a + tongue was lolling out of his mouth as he, panting from his unusual + exertions, approached them. + </p> + <p> + Huz had been game. Having set out to come, he had come, but Huz was + intuitive. He realized in his doggish consciousness that he wasn’t + wanted and he deemed it wise not to make his presence known. + </p> + <p> + While Chicken Little and Jilly loitered, he stretched himself out for a + much-needed rest, keeping one eye on them and the other on the grazing + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_20"></a>20</span>steers, who + stopped frequently to cast curious glances at the intruders. + </p> + <p> + Presently the children walked on and Huz softly pattered along a few paces + in the rear. All went well until they came abreast of the steers. Chicken + Little was amazed to see the foremost one lift his head, then start slowly + toward them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear,” she thought, “perhaps he thinks we’ve + got salt for him.” + </p> + <p> + Huz saw the movement, too, and some instinct of his shepherd blood + asserted itself. He evidently considered the approach of the steer + menacing and felt it his duty to interfere. With a sharp little staccato + bark he dashed off in the direction of the herd as fast as his fat legs + would carry him. His dash had much the effect of a pebble thrown into a + pool, which gradually sets the whole surface of the water in motion. One + by one the steers stopped grazing and faced in his direction, snuffing and + hesitant. Huz yapped and continued to approach them boldly. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little saw the culprit with a shiver of dismay. + </p> + <p> + “O Huz–you rascal! Oh, dear, and cattle hate a little dog! + Come back here, Huz–Huz! Huz–shut up, you scamp!” + </p> + <p> + But Huz, like many misguided human beings, thought he saw his duty and was + doing it, regardless <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_21"></a>21</span>of + possible consequences. He heeded Chicken Little to the extent of stopping + in his tracks but persisted in his sharp yapping. The nearest steer began + to move toward him, the others, one by one, gradually following. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was frightened, though at first, only for poor foolish + little Huz. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they’ll kill him if he doesn’t stop! He can’t + drive cattle, the silly goose! Huz! Huz! Come here! Hush up!” + </p> + <p> + Huz retreated slowly as the steers approached. The many pairs of hostile + eyes and the long horns pointed in his direction were beginning to strike + terror into his doggish heart, but his nerve was still good and he barked + to the limit of his lungs. + </p> + <p> + The steers came on faster. + </p> + <p> + Jane’s breath grew quick and short as she watched them. The children + were too far from either fence to escape the steers by flight. Even if she + were alone, she could not hope to outrun them, and with Jilly, the case + would be hopeless. There was only one thing to be done. She had seen + enough of cattle during the past three years to know exactly what that was–she + must drive them back. Putting Jilly behind her, she gathered up some loose + stones and commenced to hurl them at the advancing steers. + </p> + <p> + “Hi there! Hi, hi!” she yelled fiercely, starting <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_22"></a>22</span>toward them + brandishing her arms. The cattle paused, wavered, might have turned, but + Huz, being thus reinforced, barked lustily again. The steers edged forward + as if fascinated by this small, noisy object. + </p> + <p> + “Huz, Huz, why can’t you be still?” + </p> + <p> + Gathering up Jilly in her arms and bidding her hold tight and be very + quiet, Chicken Little started on the run to Huz and speedily cuffed him + into silence. But the steers were still curious and resentful. As she + started to walk on, with Huz slinking crestfallen at her heels, the cattle + moved after them. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have to get him out of sight!” + </p> + <p> + She picked him up by the scruff of his neck and put him into Jilly’s + chubby arms. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Honey, you hold Huz, and slap him hard if he barks. Bad Huz + to bark!” + </p> + <p> + Jilly hugged the dog tight. “Huz bark, Jilly sap,” she + remarked complacently. + </p> + <p> + The cattle stopped when the dog disappeared from the ground. Chicken + Little started toward them carrying her double burden and yelling “Hi, + hi!” until they gave back a little. She persisted until she + succeeded in heading them away from the road. Then she started on across + the pasture still carrying Jilly and Huz, afraid to set either of them + down lest they should attract the cattle. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_23"></a>23</span>But the herd’s + curiosity had been thoroughly aroused. They were uneasy, and by the time + Chicken Little had walked a hundred yards further on, they had faced + toward her again and stood with heads up and tails waving, watching her. + She began to walk rapidly, not daring to run lest she should give out + under the child’s weight. Another twenty yards and the steers were + following slowly after her. She quickened her pace; the herd also came + faster. Chicken Little knew cattle were often stampeded by mere trifles. + Jilly, seeing the bristling horns approaching, commenced to whimper. + </p> + <p> + “Do home, Anjen, do home–Jilly’s ’faid!” + </p> + <p> + Jane soothed the child in a voice that was fast growing shaky with terror. + “I mustn’t get scared and lose my head,” she argued with + herself. “Father says that’s the worst thing you can do in + danger. I must keep them back! Marian trusted me with Jilly–I must + be brave!” + </p> + <p> + Turning resolutely she confronted the herd, yelling and waving till with + great exertion she headed them about once more. This time she gained a + couple of hundred yards before they followed. Jilly, peeping fearfully + over her shoulder, gave her warning. When she looked back and saw those + thirty pair of sharp horns turned again in their direction, the girl gave + a sob of despair. + </p> + <p> + There was not another human being in sight. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_24"></a>24</span>The soft, + undulating green of the prairie seemed to sweep around them like a sea. + Jane looked up into the warm, blue sky overhead and prayed out loud. + </p> + <p> + “O Lord, please keep them back. I’m doing the best I can, God, + but–but–it’s so far to the fence! I truly am, Lord, and + Jilly’s so little!” “Hi there, hi, hi! Yes, Jilly, yes, + course Anjen’ll take care of you!” + </p> + <p> + Her panic-stricken tones were hardly reassuring, the child wailed louder, + casting frightened glances at the steers, then burying her face on Jane’s + shoulder. The cattle were approaching on the trot, their great bodies + swinging and jostling beneath that thicket of horns as the animals in the + rear pushed and crowded against the leaders. The steady thud of their + hoofs seemed to shake the ground rhythmically. Jilly could hear even when + she couldn’t see, and clung convulsively to Anjen with one arm while + the other squeezed tight the chastened Huz. Chicken Little sent up a last + petition, as gathering up her remaining shreds of courage, she charged + once more. + </p> + <p> + “O God, please, please, help a little!” + </p> + <p> + She never knew exactly what happened after that. Jilly was past all + control. She was screaming steadily but her anguished howls were almost + providential for they helped out Jane’s weakening <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_25"></a>25</span>shouts. Again and + again Jane turned the steers, her voice growing fainter and hoarser. The + cattle seemed to gather impetus with each rush–the distance between + them was fast lessening and the beasts became more and more unruly about + going back. But in some miraculous way she kept them off until Mr. Benton, + plowing in a field near the fence, was attracted by Jilly’s screams + and rushed to their rescue. Driving away the steers, he lifted Jilly and + Huz from Chicken Little’s aching arms, and took them all in to his + wife to be comforted. + </p> + <p> + It was some little time before Chicken Little could give the Benton’s + an intelligible account of what had excited the steers. Mr. Benton’s + astonishment was unbounded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Chicken Little, I’ll never say another word ’bout + city folks being skeery. You ain’t so bad for a tenderfoot. How’d + you know enough to face them that way instead of running? If you’d + run they’d trampled you all into mince meat! Steers are the + terablist critters!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was too shaky to answer with anything but a smile. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Benton refreshed them with milk and cookies and after the children + had recovered from their fright, Mr. Benton drove them home. + </p> + <p> + Frank came to lift Jilly from the buggy and Mr. Benton related their + adventure with a relish. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_26"></a>26</span>“Clean + grit, that sister of yours!” he ended. “She never even let go + of that plaguey dog. The tears was a streamin’ down her face and I + low she’d pray one minute and let out a yell at them blasted steers + the next.” + </p> + <p> + The tears stood in Frank’s eyes as he hugged both Jane and Jilly + close after Mr. Benton drove away. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll never forget this, little sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Frank, it was the only thing I could do. Marian trusted Jilly + to me and I couldn’t let poor little Huz be killed!” + </p> + <p> + Huz evidently approved this last sentiment, for he gambolled around the + group, doing his doggish best to please. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little’s modesty, however, was destined to be short-lived. + By the time her mother and Marian and Ernest had all praised and made much + of her exploit, she felt herself a real heroine. She was a natural-born + dreamer, and she spent the remainder of the day in misty visions of + wondrous adventures in which she always played the leading part. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0026.jpg" id="img006" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_2"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_27"></a>27</span> + <img src="images/p0027.jpg" id="img007" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + HARKING BACK TO CENTERVILLE + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was sitting by the dining room window one afternoon about a + week later, busily knitting. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes Father, Jane. Run out and get the mail. There should be + a letter from Alice telling about the wedding and when they are coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do hope there is!” Chicken Little flew out the door and + down the path to the road where Father was unloading bundles before he + drove on to the stables. + </p> + <p> + “From Alice? Yes, and one from Katy and Gertie, and three for + Marian. She’s the popular lady this time.” Dr. Morton handed + out the treasures. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry, Mother,” Chicken Little fairly wriggled <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_28"></a>28</span>with eagerness as she + tossed the letters into her mother’s lap. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be so impatient, child! Little ladies should cultivate + repose of manner. Where are my spectacles? I was sure I laid them on the + desk.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was peering around anxiously on desk and table and mantel, + when Chicken Little suddenly began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “On your head, Mumsey, on your head! Hurry up and read the letter–I + just can’t wait.” + </p> + <p> + Her mother carefully unfolded the sheets and read them to herself + deliberately before satisfying Jane’s curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “They are not coming until the last of June,” she said + finally. “Dick has an important case set for the tenth and they + would have to make a hurried trip if they came before that, so they have + settled down in the old home till the law suit is over. Then they are + coming for a nice long visit. Alice says if Dick wins the case they are + going clear to San Francisco, but if he doesn’t, they’ll go + only as far as Denver. Oh, here’s a note for you, Chicken Little, + from Dick. And Alice says, perhaps they’ll bring Katy and Gertie + with them, if it is convenient for us to entertain so many, and leave them + here while they go on out West. Dear me, I don’t know! Gertie hasn’t + been very well, it seems, and Mrs. Halford is anxious to have her <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_29"></a>29</span>go to the country + somewhere. Why, child—” + </p> + <p> + Jane had paused with Dick’s cherished note half-opened to skip and + jump deliriously till she was almost breathless. + </p> + <p> + “O Mother, wouldn’t that be glorious? You could put another + bed in my room, and, maybe, they’d stay all summer. Oh, goody-goody, + goody, goody, goody!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton coming in, caught her in the midst of her war dance and gave + her a resounding kiss. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Mother, where did you get this teetotum? We might sell her + for a mechanical top–warranted perpetual motion. When the legs give + out, the tongue still wags.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care, Father, Katy and Gertie are coming. I just can’t + wait!” + </p> + <p> + Jane hugged her father and did her best to spin his two hundred pounds + avoirdupois around with her. + </p> + <p> + When she had sobered down a little she remarked doubtfully: “But, + Mother, Katy and Gertie didn’t say a single word about coming, in + their letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably Mrs. Halford hasn’t told them. She would naturally + write to me first, to find out if it is perfectly convenient for us before + she roused their expectations. I presume Alice’s letter is only + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_30"></a>30</span>a suggestion, + and if I reply to it favorably, Mrs. Halford will write. I shall think it + over.” + </p> + <p> + “Think it over? Why, Mother, you’re going to ask them to come, + aren’t you?” Chicken Little’s eyes were big with pained + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, I think it likely that I shall invite them–it would + be good for you to have companions of your own class once more. But it + will mean a great deal of extra work, and unless I can get someone to help + me, I do not see how I can manage it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, I’ll help, and Katy and Gertie won’t mind + washing dishes.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, little daughter, we will let the matter rest for a day or two. + Don’t you want to hear about Alice’s wedding?” + </p> + <p> + “Read it aloud, Mother Morton.” It was Marian speaking. She + was standing in the door with Jilly fresh and rosey from a long nap. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Jilly doesn’t seem any the worse for her bump this morning, + does she?” + </p> + <p> + “No, that’s the blessed thing about children, they get over + things so easily. By the way, Father, Frank told me to tell you that he + had taken Ernest with him over to the Captain’s after a load of hay. + They’ll probably have supper there and be late getting <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_31"></a>31</span>home–that is if + Captain Clarke asks them to stay–he is such a queer old duck.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem very neighborly, according to reports. I’ve + found him pleasant the few times I have met him,” said Dr. Morton, + “but let’s have Alice’s letter.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton adjusted her spectacles and began to read. + </p> + <p> + “<span style="font-variant:small-caps">Dear, Dear Mrs. Morton:</span> + </p> + <p> + “If we could only have had all the Morton family, great and small, + present, the Harding-Fletcher Nuptials, as Dick insists upon calling our + wedding–he quotes from the Cincinnati paper–would have been + absolutely perfect. Uncle Joseph and Aunt Clara couldn’t have done + more for me if I had been their very own. Aunt Clara insisted upon having + the big church wedding, which I fear your quiet taste would not approve, + but it was very lovely. And I do think the atmosphere of a big church and + the beautiful music are wonderfully impressive. Dick says it’s the + proper thing to tie the bridal knot with all the kinks you can invent–it + makes it more secure. He said it was miles from the vestry to the chancel + and his knees got mighty wobbly before he arrived, but after thinking it + over, he concluded I was worth the walk–the heathen! Oh, I almost + forgot to tell you that the sun shone on the bride most gloriously and the + old <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_32"></a>32</span>church was + a perfect bower of apple-blossoms and white lilacs. My wedding dress was + white satin with a train. I wore Aunt Clara’s wedding veil. It was + real Brussels lace and I was scared to death for fear something would + happen to it. I warned Dick off until he declared that the next time he + got married the bride should either be out in the open, or have a mosquito + net that wasn’t perishable. I’m not going to tell you about my + trousseau because I intend to bring it along to show you. I want you to be + surprised, and oh! and ah! over every single thing, because it is so + wonderful for Alice Fletcher to have such beautiful clothes. Dick is + looking over my shoulder and he says he thinks it’s time I learned + that my name is Alice Harding. He says he’s going to have a + half-dozen mottoes printed with— + </p> + <div class="center"> + <p class="tp"> + ‘My name is Harding.<br /> On the Cincinnati hills<br /> I lost the + Fletcher!’ + </p> + </div> + <p> + on them, and hang them about our happy home. Tell Chicken Little I’ve + saved a big chunk of bride’s cake for her, and I’m dying to + see her. It doesn’t seem possible that she is almost as tall as + Marian.” + </p> + <p> + The letter ran on with much pleasant chatter of the new home, which was + the same dear old one where Alice had been born, and where the Morton + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_33"></a>33</span>family had + spent the two happy years that were already beginning to seem a long way + off. + </p> + <p> + Alice had graduated the preceding year, but Uncle Joseph would not listen + either to her plea that she should pay the money back from her little + inheritance, or that she should carry out her plan of teaching. He said it + would be bad enough to give her up to Dick just as they had all learned to + love her–she must stay with them as long as possible. + </p> + <p> + Dick’s letter was as full of nonsense as Dick himself. It was + written with many flourishes to: + </p> + <div class="bquote"> + <p> + “<span style="font-variant:small-caps">Miss Chicken Little Jane + Morton,</span> + </p> + <p style="margin-left:2ex;"> + Big John Creek, + </p> + <p style="margin-left:4ex;"> + Morris County, Kansas. + </p> + <p> +   + </p> + <p> + “Dear Miss Morton, + </p> + <p> + “I would respectfully inform you that your dear friend Alice + Fletcher is no more–there ain’t no such person. She made a + noble end in white satin covered with sticky out things, and her stylish + aunt’s lace curtain. She looked very lovely, what I could see of + her through the curtain. My dear Miss Morton, I beseech you when you get + married, don’t wear a window curtain. Because if you do the groom + and the sympathizing friends can’t see how hard you are taking it. + Alice didn’t look mournful when the plaguey thing was removed, but + her aunt wept copiously at the train and took all <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_34"></a>34</span> the starch out of + Alice’s fresh linen collar. And Alice said it would be a sight, if + I mussed it. I don’t see the connection, do you? Dear Chicken + Little, I thought about you all the time I wasn’t thinking about + Alice, because I remembered a certain other wedding where the dearest + small girl in the world introduced me to the dearest big girl in the + world. I thought also of the little partner who wrote a certain letter + and of many other things–I didn’t even forget the baby mice, + Chicken Little! Alice says she would like to have your name on her + diploma along with the president’s because–well, you know + why. And they tell us you are Chicken Big now. Thirteen going on, is a + frightful age! The worst of it is you can never stop ‘going on.’ + I suppose I need not expect to be asked to any doll parties, but, Jane, + wouldn’t you–couldn’t you, take me fishing when we + come? I will promise to be as grown up as possible. + </p> + <p style="text-align:right; margin-right:4em;"> + “Yours, + </p> + <p style="text-align:right"> + “<span style="font-variant:small-caps">Dick.</span>” + </p> + <p> + “P. S. Do you still read Mary Jane Holmes?” + </p> + </div> + <p> + “Well, it is evident Dick Harding is the same old Dick, all right. + Three years and getting married don’t seem to have changed him a + particle,” laughed Marian. + </p> + <p> + “Three years isn’t a lifetime,” retorted Dr. Morton, + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_35"></a>35</span>“if it + does seem ‘quite a spell’ to young people. Thank heaven, it + has changed you, Marian, from a fragile, pale invalid to a hearty, rosy + woman! Dr. Allerton knew what he was about when he sent you to a farm to + get well.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can’t be thankful enough, Father Morton, and I don’t + forget how kind it was of you all to come out so far with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother is the only one who deserves any thanks–the rest of us + were crazy to come. We were tickled to death to have an excuse, eh, + Chicken Little?” He tweaked her ear for emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I love the farm, Father, only I wish Ernest could go away to + school. He’s awfully worried for fear you won’t feel able to + send him to college this fall. He studies every minute when he isn’t + too tired.” Dr. Morton’s face grew grave. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it’s time for the boy to have a better chance. I wanted + him to go last year, but the drought and the low price of cattle made it + impossible. And I don’t quite know how it will be this fall yet.” + </p> + <p> + “There mustn’t be any if about it this fall, Father. Ernest is + working too hard here and now is the time for his education if he is ever + to have one,” Mrs. Morton spoke decidedly. + </p> + <p> + “I know all that, Mother, but college takes ready money, and money + is mighty scarce these days. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_36"></a>36</span>He’s + pretty well prepared for college. I’ve seen to that, if we do live + on a Kansas ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t just the studies, though, Father Morton,” said + Marian. “Ernest needs companionship. He doesn’t take to most + of the boys around here, and I don’t blame him. They’re a + coarse lot, most of them. The McBroom boys are all right, but they live so + far off and are kept so busy with farm work, he never sees them except + after church once a month or at the lyceums in winter.” + </p> + <p> + “Marian’s just right, Father. The boy needs the right kind of + associations; his manners and his English have both deteriorated here,” + added Mrs. Morton. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, Mother, but the boy is sturdy and well and his eyes are + strong once more, and he is going to make a more worth while man on + account of this very farm life you despise. But he does need companions. I + wonder if we couldn’t get Carol or Sherm out here for the summer + along with the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, do have some mercy on me. I can’t care for such a + family!” Mrs. Morton gasped at this further adding to her burdens. + </p> + <p> + Marian studied for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, if you want to ask him, I’ll take Sherm, and Ernest, + too, while Dick and Alice are here. I’d rather have Sherm than + Carol, and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_37"></a>37</span>Mother + said in her letter that the Dart’s were having a sad time this year. + Mr. Dart has been ill for so long.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had listened in tense silence to this conversation, but she + couldn’t keep still any longer. + </p> + <p> + “You are going to ask Katy and Gertie, aren’t you, Mother?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton smiled but made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to go to work and help Mother if you want any + favors, Jane,” her father admonished. + </p> + <p> + The following week apparently wrought an amazing change in Chicken Little. + She let novels severely alone–even her precious set of Waverly + beckoned in vain from the bookcase shelves. She waited upon her mother + hand and foot. She set the table without being asked, and brought up the + milk and butter from the spring house before Mrs. Morton was half ready + for them. Indeed, she was so unnecessarily prompt that the butter was + usually soft and messy before the meal was ready. She even practiced five + minutes over the hour every day for good measure, conscientiously + informing her mother each time. + </p> + <p> + “Bet you can’t hold out much longer, Sis,” scoffed + Ernest, amused at her efforts to be virtuous. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_38"></a>38</span>“You’re just doing it to coax Mother + into inviting Katy and Gertie.” + </p> + <p> + “I just bet I can, Ernest Morton. Of course I want her to invite + Katy and Gertie, but I’m no old cheat, I thank you, I’m going + to help the best I can all summer if she asks ’em.” + </p> + <p> + “And if she doesn’t?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you dare hint such a thing–she’s going to–I + think you’re real hateful! I just don’t care whether you get + to go to college or not.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe I don’t want to.” + </p> + <p> + Something in Ernest’s tone made Jane glance up in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t want to? Why, you’ve been daffy about it–you + haven’t thought about anything else for a year!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s so, too, but I guess I can change my mind, can’t + I?” + </p> + <p> + Ernest lounged on the edge of the table and looked at his sister + teasingly. + </p> + <p> + He was almost six feet tall, slim and muscular, with the unruly lock of + hair sticking up in defiance of all brushing as of old, and a skin that + was still girlishly smooth though he shaved religiously every Sunday + morning to the family’s secret amusement. The results of this rite + were painfully meager. Both Chicken Little and Frank chaffed <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_39"></a>39</span>him unmercifully + about it. Jane loved to pass her hands over his chin and shriek + fiendishly: + </p> + <p> + “Ernest, I believe I felt one. I think–really, I think you’ll + cut ’em by Christmas!” A lively race usually followed this + insult. + </p> + <p> + Frank was even meaner. He came into Ernest’s room one morning while + he was shaving and gravely pretending to pick up a hog’s stiff + bristle from the carpet, held it out to him. + </p> + <p> + “Why Ernest, you’re really growing quite a beard!” + </p> + <p> + But Ernest was a man in many ways if he had but little need of a razor. + Seeing other boys so seldom and being thrown so much with men had made him + rather old for his years and more than ordinarily capable and + self-reliant. He loved horses and was clever in managing them, breaking in + many a colt that had tried the patience and courage of his elders. But his + day dream for the past twelve months had been college. He had confided all + his hopes and fears to Chicken Little. The love between the two was very + tender, the more so that they had so few companions of their own ages. + </p> + <p> + So Chicken Little, knowing that he had fairly lived and breathed and slept + and eaten college during many months, might be pardoned for her amazement + at his mysterious words. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_40"></a>40</span>“Ernest, + tell me–what’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing’s the matter–I’ve got a new idea, that’s + all.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Where’d you get it?” + </p> + <p> + “From the old captain. Say, you just ought to see his place–it’s + the queerest lay-out. Snug and neat as a pin. He’s tried to arrange + everything the way it is on shipboard. He’s got a Chinaman or a Jap, + I don’t know which, for a servant. He is the first one I ever saw, + though they say there are lots of them in Kansas City. This chap can work + all right. We had the best supper the evening Frank and I went over for + hay.” + </p> + <p> + “My, I wish I could see it. Do you suppose Father would take me over + some time?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. They say he hates women–won’t have + one around.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, you’re making that up, but what’s the idea? Oh, + you old hateful, you’re just teasing–I can tell by your eyes!” + </p> + <p> + “Honest Injun, I’m not any such thing, only you interrupt so + you don’t give me a chance. You know the Captain has been at sea for + twenty-five years–never’d quit only his asthma got so bad the + doctor told him he’d have to go to a dry climate, and bundled him + off here to Kansas. Well, he seemed to take a shine to me, and he asked me + a lot of questions about what I was going to do. <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_41"></a>41</span>Finally, he wanted to + know why I didn’t try to get into the Naval Academy instead of going + to college. Said if he had a son–and do you know, he turned kind of + white when he said that, perhaps he’s lost a boy or something–he’d + send him there.” + </p> + <p> + “O Ernest, and be an officer? I saw a picture of one at Mrs. Wilcox’s–her + nephew–and his uniform was perfectly grand.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like a girl–always thinking of clothes! But I’ve + been thinking perhaps I should like the life. I always like to read about + naval fights, and our navy’s always been some pumpkins, if it has + been small. And the captain says a naval officer has a chance to go all + over the world. Think of your beloved brother, who has never been on a + train but six times, sailing away for China or Australia!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gave a gasp, “Ernest Morton, it wouldn’t be a + bit fair for you to go without me!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry, I don’t suppose there’s one chance + in a hundred that I could get the appointment. Father knows Senator Pratt, + and the Captain said he didn’t think there was as much competition + for Annapolis out here as for West Point. It’s so far from the sea. + But mind, Jane, not a word to anybody till I think it over some more. I’m + going to see the Captain again.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_42"></a>42</span>“O + Ernest, what if you should go clear round the world?” + </p> + <p> + “’Twouldn’t hurt my feelings a bit. But mum’s the + word, Sis.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0042.jpg" id="img008" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_3"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_43"></a>43</span> + <img src="images/p0043.jpg" id="img009" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + CHICKEN LITTLE PAYS A VISIT + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was sitting at her desk writing a letter. Jane hovered about + inquisitively. She was almost sure it was to Mrs. Halford. And if so, she + must surely be inviting Katie and Gertie. If she could only be sure. She + tried in vain to get a glimpse of the heading, but her mother’s hand + rested on the paper in such a way as to effectually conceal it. Mrs. + Morton did not believe in encouraging curious young daughters. But + opportunity was kind; some one called her mother away. She left the letter + lying there partly finished. Chicken Little started joyfully across the + room, but before she had reached the desk, something held her back. She + had been most carefully trained as to what was honorable; sneaking was not + tolerated in the Morton family. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_44"></a>44</span>“No,” + she said to herself regretfully, “I mustn’t peep behind her + back! I couldn’t look anybody in the face if I did.” + </p> + <p> + She slowly turned away. When her mother returned, she glanced sharply at + Chicken Little quietly reading on the opposite side of the room. The girl + did not realize that her face proved her innocence. It was so sober that + her mother felt sure she had not meddled with the letter. Jane had not + learned to conceal her emotions. + </p> + <p> + Dr. and Mrs. Morton were both going to town that day. Mrs. Morton drove + away without satisfying Chicken Little’s curiosity, which was + probably largely responsible for what happened. Jane felt injured. She + thought her mother might tell her whether she could have the girls or not. + Ten days was enough time for anybody to make up her mind. + </p> + <p> + Frank and Ernest were out in the fields harrowing; Marian, busy sewing. + Chicken Little soon finished the few tasks her mother had left for her and + time began to hang heavy on her hands. She couldn’t seem to fix her + thought on a book because she kept wondering every minute if that letter + was to Mrs. Halford. She wandered out into the June sunshine and wished + she could have gone to town, too. Presently she began to feel aggrieved + because her parents hadn’t taken her with them. + </p> + <p> + Across the fields she could see the men at work <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_45"></a>45</span>and could + occasionally hear them calling to the horses. She wished she had a horse + to ride. The pony that was called hers by courtesy was the mainstay for + the herding and she could seldom use him at this season. Finally, after + digging her heels into some loose earth beside the path, she had an + inspiration. She debated it a moment with herself, then slipped back into + the house, combed her hair over carefully, tied it with her best ribbon, + and arrayed herself in her new blue lawn which her mother had distinctly + told her was to be her second best for the summer. + </p> + <p> + She smoothed it down complacently–pale blue was becoming to her + clear, rosy skin–but her conscience pricked. She succeeded in + lulling this annoying mentor by reasoning that her mother wouldn’t + want her to go visiting in an old dress. She tried to ignore the fact that + her mother hadn’t given her permission to go visiting at all. + </p> + <p> + Slipping out the back way to avoid disturbing Marian, in case she should + be looking out her window or Jilly should be on the watch, Chicken Little + whistled softly to Huz and Buz. The puppies were three weeks older and + stronger than when Huz so nearly caused disaster, and trotted after Jane + on all her tramps. She was seldom lonesome when she had them rolling and + tumbling along beside her. + </p> + <p> + Making a wide detour around the white cottage, <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_46"></a>46</span>she struck into a + faint track skirting the upper fields. There was a nearer way through the + lower fields along the slough, but Frank had killed several big bull + snakes there the preceding week. To be sure, these were usually harmless, + but they were frightful enough to be unpleasant company. Besides, Frank or + Ernest might see her and ask her where she was going. + </p> + <p> + But the fates speeded her undertaking. No one saw her save a few quail and + nesting plover that whirred up at her approach and tried to lure her and + the dogs away from their nests by pretending to be hurt and running a few + paces ahead on the ground. Chicken Little had seen this bird ruse too + often to be fooled by it, but Huz and Buz pursued each bird hopefully only + to come sneaking back, when the mother bird suddenly soared off as soon as + they had left the nest safely behind. + </p> + <p> + “You sillies,” Jane admonished them each time. “Won’t + you ever learn not to be fooled?” + </p> + <p> + She found it delightful to loiter herself. The whole day was before her. + The wild blackberry bushes along the fence still hid bunches of bloom + among the half-formed berries. Clumps of white elderberry blossoms spilled + their fragrance, and the wind rustling through the long stems of the weeds + and prairie grass droned monotonous tunes. She found tufts of crisp sour + sheep sorrel which she <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_47"></a>47</span>liked + to nibble, while she made ladies out of the flowers, and the pups snapped + at the grasshoppers and butterflies. Chicken Little was taking her time + for this expedition. She knew her parents would not return before evening, + and if Marian hunted her up, she would think she had gone down to eat her + lunch with Frank and Ernest. + </p> + <p> + It was almost noon before she entered the belt of timber along the creek + at the southern boundary of their ranch. Across the stream, she knew, lay + the Clarke ranch, and she had heard the house and stables were close to + the timber. Jane had resolved to call on the Captain, and going on foot, + had selected the shortest route. It was over two miles between houses by + the road. Further, Chicken Little, preferred that her visit should seem + accidental–at least to the Captain. She hardly expected to convince + her family that she had wandered over there without intending to. But she + felt sure the Captain would receive her more kindly if he thought she were + taking a walk and got lost. She would be very hot and tired when she + arrived, and ask for a drink so politely that not even a woman-hater would + have the heart to let her go on without asking her in and offering her + some refreshment. + </p> + <p> + She had never been in this part of the woods before. It was very different + from the timber and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_48"></a>48</span>groves + near the ford where they often picnicked in summer or went nutting in the + fall. There, the cattle and hogs had been allowed to range, at certain + seasons of the year, until most of the thick undergrowth was nicely + cleared away. But the wood, here, was dark and shadowy. Dead branches and + tree trunks lay where they had fallen or been torn down by storms. Weeds + and flowers had grown up among these, and the wild cucumber vines and + clematis festooned the rotting logs with feathery green. It was a wood + full of creepy noises–noises that made one keep still and listen. + The coarse grass and herbage were so rank you could scarcely see the + ground. It looked decidedly snaky, Chicken Little reflected dubiously. And + water moccasins were abundant along the creek, and poisonous, as her + father had often warned her. Chicken Little was usually plucky when she + actually saw a snake, but the snakes she feared she might see always made + her panicky. + </p> + <p> + Still she hated to give up anything she had undertaken. She stood staring + into the thickets for some minutes. Huz sat on his haunches beside her and + stared too, whining occasionally as if he didn’t quite like the + prospect either. Buz had found a gopher hole and was having a merry time + trying to dig it out. She could hear the creek singing over the stones a + few rods away. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_49"></a>49</span>“It can’t + be so awfully far,” she said aloud, “and I guess the dogs + would scare away the snakes.” + </p> + <p> + Something stirred among the weeds near her. Chicken Little gave a little + scream. But it was only a squirrel, as Huz immediately discovered. He + barked loudly and started in pursuit, which sent Mr. Squirrel flying up a + tree. Jane set her lips together firmly and started forward. + </p> + <p> + “There’s no sense in being so scary!” she admonished + Huz. “Snakes most always run away as fast as ever they can, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, she picked her way daintily and gave a cry of delight when + after pushing a short distance into the thicket, she found an old rail + fence apparently leading off in the direction she wished to go. She + climbed it promptly and worked slowly along its zig zag course–a + means of locomotion that was comfortingly safe, if somewhat slow. The pups + complained over this desertion for they had to worm through the tangle of + weeds and brambles below. + </p> + <p> + They soon reached the creek only to be confronted by a new problem. There + were neither stepping stones nor a fallen log to cross upon. Chicken + Little had to hunt for a shallow place, strip off her shoes and stockings, + and wade. She wore good old-fashioned high laced shoes and lacing up was a + tedious process. The woods were a little <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_50"></a>50</span>more open beyond. She had no further need of the + fence–it had indolently stopped at the creek anyhow. But, alas, she + had gone but a short way farther when she came to the creek again. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little sputtered volubly to the dogs but the stream flowed + placidly on. There was nothing for it, but to take off her shoes and + stockings a second time, and wade. By the time she had laced them, she + remembered having heard Frank say that the creek was very winding here and + kept doubling back on its tracks. She was in for it, now, she decided, and + might as well go ahead. It was long past noon. She was getting hungry. She + did hope the woman-hater would offer her something to eat. She felt a + little doubtful about her looks. Sitting down on the damp earth had left + sundry grass stains and one long black streak on the dainty blue lawn, and + her hair was wind blown, and mussed where some twigs had caught and pulled + it. + </p> + <p> + Once more Jane unlaced those exasperating shoes, drying her feet on a + woefully limp and dirty handkerchief. This time she lazily wound the + lacings around her ankles until she could be sure the creek was safely + behind her. Presently she heard the cackling of hens and the grunting of + pigs that assured her she was nearing somebody’s farmyard. + </p> + <p> + “Gee, but I’m glad!” she muttered thankfully. She sat + down and laced her boots neatly, then <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_51"></a>51</span>smoothing her hair and ironing out her rumpled + dress with nimble fingers, she struck off joyfully in the direction of the + sounds. She was approaching the house from the rear and the barn and + out-buildings were soon visible through the trees. She hurried forward + joyfully only to be confronted by that horrible creek flowing once more + between her and her goal. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little didn’t often lose her temper completely, but this was + the last straw. “Darn,” she exclaimed spitefully, “darn + you, you old creek, I’d like to beat you. I won’t take my + shoes off again! I just won’t!” + </p> + <p> + She scanned the bank carefully to see if she could find any rock or log to + help her out. Nothing available could be seen, but help appeared from a + most unlooked for quarter. A tall, severe-looking man rose from a rustic + seat behind a tree which had hidden him. + </p> + <p> + “Can I be of any service, Miss?” he asked courteously. + </p> + <p> + With an awful sinking of the heart she realized this must be Captain + Clarke himself. Oh! and he must have heard her swear. Chicken Little + turned the color of a very ripe strawberry and stared at him in horror. + </p> + <p> + A faint flicker of amusement lighted the man’s face. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_52"></a>52</span>“Just + wait an instant and I will put a board over for you, if you wish to cross.” + </p> + <p> + Jane distinctly did not wish to cross this particular moment. She wished + to run home. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I–I–please don’t go to any trouble, I oughtn’t + to be here, and please I didn’t mean to swear but–but–Mother + would be dreadfully ashamed of me if she knew.” + </p> + <p> + She was telling the whole truth most unexpectedly to herself. Captain + Clarke surveyed her sharply but his voice seemed kind. + </p> + <p> + “You must be Dr. Morton’s daughter. Did you get lost?” + </p> + <p> + This was an embarrassing question. Jane looked at him doubtfully before + replying. If she said “yes” she would be telling a lie, and if + she said “no,” he would know she came on purpose. She + compromised. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to see your house awfully,” she faltered. “Ernest + said it was most like a ship and I’ve never seen a ship,” a + sudden remorseful thought crept into her mind. “But you mustn’t + blame Mother; she didn’t know I was coming.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain’s eyes lost their severe look–the suspicion of a + twinkle lurked in their blue depths. + </p> + <p> + “I see, you didn’t wish to embarrass Mother, so you came + without leave. I am honored by your visit, Miss—” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_53"></a>53</span>“Jane, + but people don’t call me Miss, except Dick Harding, and he does it + for a joke. I’m only thirteen.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain was sliding a stout plank across a narrow part of the stream. + This accomplished, he came half way across and held out his hand. “Come, + I’ll help you over.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little didn’t in the least need assistance. She was as + sure-footed as a young goat, but she was too much overcome by this + delicate attention to refuse. Placing her hand gingerly in his, she let + him lead her across, then followed meekly up to the low white house. It + was a one-story structure, divided in the middle by a roofed gallery. The + entire building was surrounded by a broad veranda, open to the sky, and + enclosed by a rope railing run through stout oak posts. The Captain + gravely assisted her up the steps. + </p> + <p> + “I call this my quarter-deck,” he explained, seeing the + question in her eyes. “I have been accustomed to pacing a deck for + so many years that I didn’t feel at home without a stretch of + planking to walk on.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn’t it nice? I’ve seen pictures of people on + ships. My mother came from England on a sailing vessel. I’m sure I’d + just love the ocean!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke smiled at her encouragingly but made no reply. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_54"></a>54</span>Chicken Little + rambled on nervously. She was decidedly in awe of her host but having + begun to talk, it seemed easier to keep on than to stop. + </p> + <p> + “I guess it must be wonderful out at sea when the sun is coming up. + Sometimes I get up early and go out on the prairie to watch it. It just + keeps on getting lighter and lighter till finally the sun bobs up like a + great smiling face. I always feel as if it were saying ‘Good + morning, Jane.’ I suppose it’s a lot grander at sea where you + can’t see a single thing but miles and miles of waves. Why, I should + think you’d feel as if there wasn’t anybody in the world but + you and God. I always feel a lot more religious outdoors than I do in + church. But Mother says that’s just a notion. But, you know, the + people are always so funny and solemn in church and the ministers most all + talk through their noses or say ‘Hm-n’ to fill in when they + don’t know what to say next. But, oh dear, I guess you’ll + think I’m dreadful! And please don’t think I swear that way + often. I haven’t for ever so long before.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain’s face twitched, but he replied gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry about the ‘Darn,’ child, I’ve + heard worse oaths, though I believe young girls are not supposed to use + strong language. I feel as you do about church and the outdoors. I find it + irksome <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_55"></a>55</span>to be + cooped up anywhere. But come in, and I will have Wing Fan give you some + pigeon pot-pie. We had a famous one for dinner and you surely must be + hungry. Afterwards, I’ll show you through The Prairie Maid as I + sometimes call this craft.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little began to feel at home. “And to think Ernest said he + didn’t like women and girls! Pooh, I knew he was just fooling.” + </p> + <p> + Wing Fan found other things beside the pot-pie, and Chicken Little was + soon feasting luxuriously with the Chinaman waiting on her most + deferentially. Her host watched her with a keener interest, had she but + known it, than he had shown in any human being for many months. + </p> + <p> + He was a man of fifty odd. Naturally reticent, his long voyages in command + of merchant vessels had fostered an aloofness and love of solitude, which + had later been intensified by a great grief. His stern bearing had + repelled his country neighbors in the year he had lived on Big John. He + was satisfied that it should be so, yet he was intensely lonely. + </p> + <p> + But Chicken Little knew nothing of all this. The thick sprinkling of white + in his black hair and the deep lines in his face, made her entirely + comfortable–they were just like Father’s. She was too curious + to verify Ernest’s tales of the queer house, <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_56"></a>56</span>to give much + attention to her host at first. She stared around her with wide eyes. Yes, + there were the funny little built-in cupboards and window seats, and the + plate racks, and the shelves that let down with gilt chains. Every single + thing was painted white. “My, how lovely and clean it all looked!” + And the blue Chinese panels; she had never seen anything like them. And + there were five pictures of ships. + </p> + <p> + Even the dishes were a marvel to her. Jane had seen plenty of fine china + but never any so curious as this old Blue Canton with its landscapes and + quaint figures. The Captain was pleased with her ingenuous admiration. + </p> + <p> + When she had finished her dinner, he took her across the gallery to his + library, a room seldom shown to the residents of the creek. Even Ernest + and Frank hadn’t seen it, Jane learned later. This apartment was + quite as marvellous as the dining-room. A long, low room it was, with many + lacquered and carved cabinets and tables. The wall space above these was + pictureless, but two great ivory tusks were crossed over a doorway. Above + the fireplace rows of weapons were ranged–queer swords and daggers + with gold and mother-of-pearl on their hilts, a ship’s cutlass, + several scimitars, and the strangest guns and pistols. Chicken Little was + fascinated with the frightful array. A huge bearskin <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_57"></a>57</span>lay on the floor + among strange, beautifully colored rugs, which reminded her of her mother’s + India shawl. Rugs where queer stiff little men and animals that looked as + if a child had drawn them, wandered about among curlicues and odd + geometrical patterns. A tiger-skin, head and dangling claws distressingly + lifelike, hung in the middle of one wall. She was spell-bound for a few + minutes with the strangeness of it all. + </p> + <p> + Her host seemed to enjoy her wonder. He explained most patiently a great + compass set on a tripod in one corner. After she had roamed and gazed to + her heart’s content, he opened the locked cabinets, and let her take + miniature ebony elephants from Siam into her hands. He had her look + through a reading glass at intricate ivory carvings, so tiny, it did not + seem that human fingers could ever have wrought them. There were boxes of + sandalwood and ugly heathen idols with leering faces. The drawers were + crowded with prints and embroideries. The Captain pulled one out that had + girl’s things in it. She caught a glimpse of a spangled scarf, and + fans and laces, even gay-colored beads. But he shut this drawer hastily. + She did not have time to wonder much about this incident just then, but + she thought about it a good deal afterwards. The things looked quite new + as if they had never been used. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_58"></a>58</span>Chicken Little + had natural taste and had read more than most girls of her age. She + handled the Captain’s curios reverently, drinking in eagerly his + explanations and the strange tales of where he had found these wonders. + </p> + <p> + So absorbed were they both, that the shadows were lengthening before + Captain Clarke realized the afternoon was slipping away, and that home + folk might be disturbed if he kept his young guest too long. Chicken + Little was distressed too. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’m afraid Father and Mother will get home before I do. + They’ll be awfully worried!” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t try to go back through the woods. They are too + dense to be a very safe route for a child, and it would be dark before you + could reach home. I’ll have one of the men hitch up, and I’ll + drive you over.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little commenced to fidget. It would not make her coming scolding + any lighter, if her parents learned that the Captain had felt in duty + bound to bring her home. But she did not wish to be rude and it was a long + walk by the road. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke saw she was disturbed and began to laugh. Her naïvete + charmed him. + </p> + <p> + “If my program doesn’t suit you, won’t you tell me what + is wrong? I haven’t enjoyed anything so much in years as your visit, + my dear. I should like to pay my debt by doing whatever you would like.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_59"></a>59</span>Jane was + radiant by the time he had finished. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t you truly mind my coming? You aren’t just being + polite?” + </p> + <p> + “Mind? Child, if you ever come to be as lonesome and as old as I am, + you will know what a comfort it has been to have anyone as young and sweet + and fresh as you are, around. Just a moment, I want to show you one thing + more.” + </p> + <p> + He went into his bedroom and returned with an old photograph. It was a + likeness of a two-year-old child. + </p> + <p> + She took a good look at it, then turned to her host. + </p> + <p> + “It is the picture of the little boy I–I–lost. He was my + only one. He–he would be seventeen now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why that’s just Ernest’s age!” + </p> + <p> + “Your brother? The one who was here the other evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was seventeen his last birthday. I’m so sorry you + lost your little boy.” Chicken Little slipped her hand into his to + express her sympathy. + </p> + <p> + The Captain did not reply except with an answering pressure. She laid the + picture down gently. + </p> + <p> + “He was a beautiful baby–it almost seems to me I’ve seen + someone who looks like him–especially the eyes. And that merry + little twist to his mouth. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_60"></a>60</span>I + can’t seem to think who it is.” Jane puckered her forehead and + the Captain observed her closely. + </p> + <p> + “Was it some boy?” He seemed interested in this resemblance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, how silly of me not to remember. It’s Sherman Dart, one + of Ernest’s old friends back in Centerville.” + </p> + <p> + “Centerville? That is in Illinois, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, where we used to live. And the eyes are exactly like Sherm’s + and Sherm always twisted his mouth crooked like that when he smiled.” + </p> + <p> + “This boy, he wasn’t an orphan, was he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, Mr. and Mrs. Dart are both living though Mr. Dart’s + been sick a long time.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain seemed to have lost interest. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, am I to have the pleasure of driving you home–I’m + afraid your parents will be distressed about you.” + </p> + <p> + Jane had a bright idea. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Clarke,” she spoke rather hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind–of course it sounds awful of me to ask you–but–it’d + be so much easier for me with Mother if you’d just tell her, oh, + what you said about my being a comfort and not bothering.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was both ashamed and eager. + </p> + <p> + The Captain threw back his head and laughed until the tears came into his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_61"></a>61</span>“My dear, + I’ll make this call all right with your mother, never fear, for I + want you to come again. I am going to ask her if you and Ernest can’t + both honor me by coming to dinner next Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + He was as good as his word but when Chicken Little went to bed her mother + said sorrowfully: “Chicken Little, I shan’t scold you because + I promised Captain Clarke I would let you off this time–but I didn’t + think you would do such a thing–behind my back, too.” + </p> + <p> + And her mother had asked Katy and Gertie! She had told her after she came + home that evening. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0061.jpg" id="img010" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_4"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_62"></a>62</span> + <img src="images/p0062.jpg" id="img011" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + A CHERRY PENANCE + </h2> + <p> + Chicken Little awoke the next morning with a bad taste in her mouth. She + was ashamed to have grieved her mother by her escapade the day before, + especially when Mother was undertaking all this extra trouble for her + happiness. But she just couldn’t be sorry she had gone to the + Captain’s! It would be something to remember all her life. She gave + a skip of delight every time she thought of all the lovely things–and + the Captain’s stories. No, she simply couldn’t be sorry, but + she knew Mother expected her to be sorry. Of course, she might have got + acquainted with him some other way, but her father wouldn’t promise + ever to take her. “Little girls have too much curiosity for their + own good, Humbug,” was all she had been able to get from him. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_63"></a>63</span>She could see + at breakfast that Mother expected an apology right away. She could feel + disapproval in her good morning and in the way she kissed her. Mother + seemed to have the power to make her feel mean and guilty all over. But + she wasn’t sorry. + </p> + <p> + While they were doing the dishes she told her mother all about the + wonderful things she had seen. Mrs. Morton listened in silence. She was + waiting. Chicken Little heaved a deep sigh and did her best. + </p> + <p> + “I know it was wrong for me to go without permission, Mother, and I + won’t ever do it again, and I think you’re just beautiful to + ask Katy and Gertie. I’ll help every single bit I can; you see if I + don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you realize you did very wrong, little daughter, is that + all you have to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked at her Mother and fidgeted. Her Mother returned her + look gravely. Still she couldn’t–it would be fibbing if she + did. The silence became oppressive. + </p> + <p> + “You may go and pick a couple of quarts of cherries, Jane.” + Mrs. Morton handed her the tin lard pail, searching her face once more. + </p> + <p> + It was a glorious June morning and Jane enjoyed picking cherries. Marian + saw her and came too, establishing Jilly comfortably at the foot of the + tree with a rubber doll and the two pups as companions. Jilly was usually + a placid baby and she settled down contentedly to trimming up her doll + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_64"></a>64</span>with + dandelions. Buz, the indolent, curled himself at her feet and was asleep + inside of five minutes, but Huz looked up longingly into the tree at Jane. + He seemed to be racking his doggish brain as to the best method of + reaching her. He kept making little futile leaps, whining impatiently. + Finally, he stood up on his hind legs, planted his fore paws against the + tree trunk, and barked dolefully. Jane bent down and mischievously dropped + a cherry into his open mouth. Huz choked, sputtered, and after a first + rapturous crunch, hastily deposited the acid fruit upon the ground. He + looked reproachfully at Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + “There now,” said Marian, “he’ll never trust you + again.” Marian raced Chicken Little with the cherry picking and the + pails were filled far too soon. + </p> + <p> + “Jane,” said Marian as she started reluctantly back to the + house, “if Mother Morton can spare you this morning to help me pick + them, I believe I’ll get some cherries to put up–there are + loads ripe this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d love to, Marian, I’ll take these in and find out if + she’ll let me.” + </p> + <p> + She came flying back in a jiffy with two big milk pails. “All right, + Mother says I may help you till noon.” + </p> + <p> + They had a merry morning. The cherry trees lined the lane which was also a + public road, and several <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_65"></a>65</span>neighbors + going by, stopped to exchange a few words. Mr. Benton had his joke, for he + discovered Jane swinging up in the topmost boughs and reaching still + higher for certain unusually luscious ones that eluded her covetous + fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Morton,” he said, addressing Marian and ignoring + Chicken Little, “that’s the largest variety of robin I’ve + ever seen in these parts. I ’low you must have brought the seed from + the east with you. You wouldn’t mind if I took a shot at it, I + ’spose. ’Pears like birds of that size must be mighty + destructive to cherries.” + </p> + <p> + “Why Mr. Benton, we shouldn’t like to have you kill our birds; + we’re attached to them. But you are mistaken, that isn’t a + robin, it’s a Jane bird–they’re rare around here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Benton laughed and Chicken Little got even by hurling a big cluster of + cherries at him. She aimed them at his lap, but they struck him full in + the face to her great glee. + </p> + <p> + “Well now, them Jane birds ain’t so bad.” Mr. Benton + remarked eating the fruit with a relish. + </p> + <p> + The morning sped by briskly. Jilly created a diversion by getting her + small self into trouble. Marian noticed that she was picking something off + the tree trunk and putting it into the pocket of her little ruffled apron. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_66"></a>66</span>“What’s + Jilly getting there? Can you see, Chicken Little?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little twisted and peered until she could take a good look. + </p> + <p> + “Why–Marian, I do believe it’s ants! The silly baby–they’ll + bite her!” + </p> + <p> + Marian hurried down the tree to rescue her offspring, but not before Jilly + set up a wail of anguish. + </p> + <p> + “Naughty sings bite Jilly!” she moaned, as her Mother picked + the small tormentors off her arms and bare legs. But Jilly was a sunny + child, and as soon as the pain eased, found a smile and remarked + complacently: “Ants bite Jilly, too bad, too bad!” + </p> + <p> + Jane braced herself firmly in a crotch where the red fruit was thickest + and picked mechanically while she unburdened her mind of the previous day’s + doings. She chattered about her adventures till Marian could have repeated + every word of her conversation with the Captain off by heart, and might + have given a pretty accurate inventory of his possessions, or at least the + portion of them that Jane had seen. + </p> + <p> + Marian was genuinely interested and liked to hear Chicken Little tell it + all, but she wondered what Mrs. Morton had thought about the junketing. + </p> + <p> + “But what did your Mother say, dear?” she asked finally. + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t like it.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_67"></a>67</span>“You didn’t + suppose she would, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “N-o-o, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “I’d never have got to go if I’d waited for permission. + And, Marian,” Chicken Little thought it was time to change the + subject, “how do you make yourself be sorry, when you ought to be + and aren’t?” + </p> + <p> + Marian wanted to laugh but she saw her young sister had not intended to be + funny. She half guessed the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Why Jane, I hardly know, the old monks used to set themselves + penances to atone for their sins.” + </p> + <p> + “Did it make them really sorry? Do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, I should think it must have or they would never have had + the courage to persist in them. Some of their penances were terribly + severe such as beating themselves with knotted ropes, but I shouldn’t + advise anything of that kind for you. You might try to make up for your + fault in some way. Perhaps you might give up something you like very much.” + </p> + <p> + Jane didn’t say anything more, and it was a day or two later before + Marian learned the effect of her words. + </p> + <p> + The cherry trees seemed full as ever after they had gathered all Marian + wanted, and in the evening <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_68"></a>68</span>Mrs. + Morton sent Chicken Little out to gather more for her. Marian offered to + help her, and they were once more aloft in the trees when Mr. Benton + returned from town. + </p> + <p> + Marian began to chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “He’ll think we have been here all day, Jane. Let’s + pretend we have.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, Mr. Benton, back so soon. How fast the day has gone by. + Jane, you must be awfully hungry, I hadn’t realized it was so late!” + </p> + <p> + “Well now, time does beat everything for speed, but I ’lowed + it was only our ancestors as lived in trees all the time, Mrs. Morton. But + then I’ve heard they’re gettin’ a lot of new-fangled + ways down east. You’re not calculatin’ to take up your + residence permanent like in them cherry trees, are you? In case you don’t + want the cottage any more, we might move it over to our place just by way + of being neighborly.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Benton, I’ll remember your kind offer if it + ever gets in our way.” + </p> + <p> + It was not many days before the mail brought a grateful letter from Mrs. + Halford, and ecstatic ones from the girls, in reply to Mrs. Morton’s + invitation. They would arrive with Alice and Dick and Sherm–for + Sherm was coming, too–on the twentieth. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite two weeks. That means we must begin <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_69"></a>69</span>getting ready at + once, and you mustn’t think because we have a servant coming, that + you won’t need to help, Jane. One girl can’t do all the work + for so many.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had not yet said she was sorry and her Mother was inclined + to be severe with her in consequence. Mrs. Morton was rather worried, too, + because she had seemed pale and listless for two or three days past. But + when she asked if she were not feeling well, Chicken Little had replied + carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “Why, I’m all right, Mother.” + </p> + <p> + They were hurrying to get the cherry crop cared for before the guests + arrived. There would be enough to do after they came to keep them all busy + without preserving, Mrs. Morton declared. One day when they were seeding + cherries, Marian noticed that Jane was eating only half ripe ones. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth are you eating those green things for, child?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just for fun.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it won’t be funny if you eat many of them. I don’t + know anything that’ll make you sick quicker than green cherries. + They’re acid enough when they’re ripe.” + </p> + <p> + In the hurry of preparing for the guests, Marian thought nothing further + about it. Three nights later, Dr. Morton wakened them at midnight to <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_70"></a>70</span>know if they had any + calomel. “The Chicken’s mighty sick,” he said. “And + I gave the last I had to Mrs. Benton for Mary.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t any calomel, Father, but I’ve got some castor + oil,” Marian announced after some rummaging. + </p> + <p> + “That will go hard with Jane, she loathes it. But she’ll have + to take it down I guess. I can’t imagine what ails her, she’s + vomiting and has a high fever.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden recollection struck Marian. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe she has been eating too many cherries.” + </p> + <p> + “Ripe cherries oughtn’t to hurt her and they have been + plentiful so long, I shouldn’t think she would overeat.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have seen her eating them when they weren’t ripe. I + believe that’s what is the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, I have been a little afraid of scarlet fever from her + symptoms.” Dr. Morton seemed relieved. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone, Marian turned to Frank. She had been recalling several + things and putting them together. + </p> + <p> + “Frank Morton, I verily believe that sister of yours has been eating + half-ripe cherries for a penance.” + </p> + <p> + “Penance? Penance for what?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_71"></a>71</span>“I don’t + exactly know, but it has something to do with her running off to the + Captain’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if she’s as big a fool as all that, she deserves to + have a stomach ache. Come, stop worrying.” + </p> + <p> + “But Frank, I’m afraid I’m the guilty one who suggested + the idea to her. Goodness knows, I hadn’t the slightest intention of + doing so.” Marian related the whole story. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sis certainly gets queer notions into her head, but it may + not be that at all. Anyhow, you can’t do anything to-night.” + </p> + <p> + A very pallid forlorn girl sat propped up in bed about noon the following + day. The family, having discovered that it was nothing serious, and that + she had probably brought it on by her own folly, were not sympathetic. + </p> + <p> + “What in the dickens did you want to go and eat green cherries for, + when there were pounds and pounds of ripe ones going to waste on the + trees?” Ernest’s look of utter disgust was hard to bear. + </p> + <p> + Frank came over with a handful of minute green walnuts interspersed with a + choice assortment of gooseberries and green plums. He handed them to her + with a mocking bow. + </p> + <p> + “In case you get hungry, Jane dear, I thought you might like to have + a supply of your favorite food on hand.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_72"></a>72</span>Chicken Little + thanked him spunkily, but when the door closed behind him, she buried her + face in the pillow and mourned over her woes. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll never try to be good again, so there, and I think they’re + all just as mean as can be.” + </p> + <p> + Her pillow was getting wetter and wetter and her spirits closer and closer + to zero, when the door gently opened and her father came in. + </p> + <p> + “Why Chicken Little, crying? This won’t do. Come, tell Father + what’s the matter. You aren’t feeling worse, are you?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little swallowed hard and did her best to choke back the tears, + but the tears having been distinctly encouraged for the past ten minutes + had too good a start to be easily checked. Dr. Morton gathered her into + his arms and patted and soothed her till she was able to summon a moist + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry up and tell me now–a trouble shared is a trouble half + cured, you know.” + </p> + <p> + But Jane was beginning to be ashamed of herself. + </p> + <p> + “’Tisn’t anything really, Father, only I feel so + miserable and the boys have been making fun of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Making fun, what about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just because.” + </p> + <p> + “Because what, out with it!” + </p> + <p> + “Because I ate green cherries, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_73"></a>73</span>“How long + have you been eating green cherries, Jane?” + </p> + <p> + Jane considered. “Most a week.” + </p> + <p> + “And don’t you think you deserve to be laughed at, for doing + anything so foolish?” + </p> + <p> + “They didn’t laugh at the monks–and they were grown-up + men.” + </p> + <p> + “Monks? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I just guess they did things that made them sicker than + eating green cherries, and I didn’t intend to eat enough to make me + sick, but I didn’t seem to feel any sorrier and—” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was stopped suddenly by the expression of her Father’s + face. He tried to control himself but the laugh would come. + </p> + <p> + When they had finally got the atmosphere cleared a bit, he inquired, still + smiling: “Well, are you sorry now you went to the Captain’s?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little smiled back. “No, I’m just sorry I grieved + Mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Then suppose we vote this penance idea a failure and don’t + try it again.” + </p> + <p> + The next few days were so full of the bustle of preparation that Jane soon + forgot she had ever been sick. Further, there was a mystery on foot. She + and Ernest had not been permitted to accept the Captain’s invitation + to dinner for reasons that Mrs. Morton explained with great care to that + gentleman. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_74"></a>74</span>But + he had been invited over to dine with them. He was so reserved and silent + on this occasion that both Mrs. Morton and Marian wondered at Jane’s + devotion. After dinner he had a long conversation with Dr. Morton and + Ernest, and no teasing on Jane’s part could extract the faintest + hint from either as to what it had been about. + </p> + <p> + “It was about your going to Annapolis, I bet.” + </p> + <p> + “Nope, you’re a long way off. We didn’t say anything + more than what you and Mother heard. Father’s written to the + Senator. Captain Clarke got him all enthused; the Captain promised to + write, too. But you’ll never guess the other, and it has something + to do with you.” + </p> + <p> + She had been obliged to give it up. Ernest had at length reached an age + where he could keep a secret. The exasperating part of it was that Ernest + was going over to Captain Clarke’s every evening and she wasn’t + asked once. Her pride was so hurt that she came near being sorry she had + gone to see the Captain. + </p> + <p> + The evening before the fateful twentieth, Mrs. Morton and Jane were + putting the last touches on the guest room and on Chicken Little’s + own chamber, which Katy and Gertie were to share with her. The fresh + fluted muslin curtains were looped back primly. The guest room had been + freshly papered with a dainty floral design, in which corn flowers <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_75"></a>75</span>and wheat ears + clustered with faint hued impossible blossoms, known only to designers. + Both rooms looked fresh and cool and summery, and the windows opening out + upon the garden and orchard revealed also wide stretches of the prairie + beyond. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had re-arranged the furniture in her room at least six + times in a resolute endeavor to get the best possible effect. Marian had + given her a picture of some long stemmed pink roses that exactly matched + the buds in her paper, and she had begged an old Japanese fan from her + Mother. This was decorated with a remarkably healthy pink sunset on a gray + green ground, and she tacked it up as a finishing touch above the bed + lounge, which was destined to be a bone of contention among the three + little girls for the remainder of the summer. At first, not one of the + three was willing to be cast upon this desert island of a bed, while the + other two were whispering secrets in the big walnut four-poster. But as + the weather grew hotter, the advantages of sleeping alone became more + obvious, and they had to settle the matter by taking turns. Chicken Little + did her very best to make her room look like the Captain’s, but + except for her Mother’s concession of fresh white paint, a few books + on a shelf, and the foreign fan, it was hard to detect any very marked + resemblance. Nevertheless, both <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_76"></a>76</span>Jane and her Mother gazed upon their handiwork + with deep satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “If Annie will only stay through the summer,” sighed Mrs. + Morton, “she is doing so beautifully I’m afraid she is too + good to last. But I mustn’t borrow trouble. If she deserts me, our + guests will simply have to turn in and help, much as I should dislike to + have them.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest came in to supper so excited he could scarcely eat. And Dr. Morton + seemed almost as interested as Ernest. They were both provokingly + mysterious during the entire meal, talking over Jane’s head in a way + that was maddening. + </p> + <p> + “Does Mother know?” she demanded finally. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mother knows. I tell Mother when I go over to the Captain’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, Ernest, that’s been harped on enough,” said + Dr. Morton, then turning to Jane, “If you will hurry and get into + your riding habit, you shall know the secret inside of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that Chicken Little hurried. The black brilliantine + skirt fairly flew over her head, the border of shot in its hem rapping her + rudely as it slid to the floor with a thud. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear, I don’t see why girls have to wear such long, silly + skirts and ride sidewise. It’s so much easier to ride man fashion.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_77"></a>77</span>Chicken Little + had been permitted to ride man fashion since she had been on the ranch, + for safety. But this year her Mother had decided she was too big to be + playing the boy any longer, and had made her a woman’s habit, in + spite of the Doctor’s protests. Jane was proud of the smart basque + with its long tails and glittering rows of steel buttons, but she loathed + the skirt. + </p> + <p> + Hastily fastening the black velvet band with its dangling jet fringe below + her stiff linen collar, she cast a parting glance at the oval mirror and + skurried down the stairs, not stopping for such small matters as gloves or + cap or even her beloved riding whip. Ordinarily, she would not have budged + without the whip. It had been a Christmas present from Ernest and was her + special pride. Her haste was in vain. After one look, her Mother sent her + back for cap and gloves. “I do not wish my daughter riding around + bareheaded like some half wild thing. I don’t mind on the ranch, but + when you go abroad I wish you to look like a lady.” + </p> + <p> + Jane reluctantly obeyed and did not forget the whip this time. She had a + fresh rebuff when she reached the road. Instead of the saddle horses she + expected to see, Dr. Morton and Ernest were awaiting her in the spring + wagon. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Father, I thought you said to put on my riding habit.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_78"></a>78</span>“Maybe I + did. But never mind, jump in just as you are–it’s getting a + little late.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little tried to hide her disappointment. She maintained a + dignified silence until they had crossed the ford and Ernest turned the + horses toward Captain Clarke’s. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s at the Captain’s.” + </p> + <p> + Her Father nodded and began talking carelessly to Ernest about putting the + orchard in clover another year. She saw there was no information to be + had, until he was good and ready. Ernest took pity on her, however, just + as they turned in the Captain’s gate. + </p> + <p> + “In exactly six minutes you will see the surprise, even if you don’t + recognize it.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little strained her eyes half expecting to see Katy or Gertie + appear miraculously from nowhere. But they drove into the door yard + without seeing anything or anybody that could possibly interest her. + </p> + <p> + The Captain was evidently watching for them. He helped her down from the + high wagon in his most courtly manner. + </p> + <p> + “I am consumed with curiosity to know whether you have pried the + secret from that brother of yours. I infer you have from your habit.” + </p> + <p> + “Habit?” Jane glanced swiftly from her host’s <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_79"></a>79</span>quizzical face to her + father and Ernest. They were both smiling broadly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it has something to do with horses–but—” + </p> + <p> + She never finished the sentence for at that moment one of the Captain’s + hands appeared leading two Indian ponies, one a red and white piebald with + a red blanket and side saddle; the other a black, with a blue blanket and + a Mexican cowboy’s equipment. + </p> + <p> + She stared at the horses and she stared at the Captain, not daring to even + hope what had come into her mind. Captain Clarke took the bridle off the + piebald and held down his hand for her foot. + </p> + <p> + “Up with you, I have persuaded your Father to share his children + with me to the extent of letting me add something to your pleasure and + that of your guests this summer. Ernest, however, has left me his debtor + in advance, for he has not only finished breaking these in to the saddle + but he has tamed the worst-tempered colt on the place as well.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was surprised to see Ernest flush up and stammer. + </p> + <p> + “Why I–I don’t want any pay–I was glad to help out + a neighbor.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s exactly what I am going to ask you to do, my boy, to + help me out by letting me feel that I can still give somebody pleasure. + The ponies are part of a large herd I bought in Texas and cost <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_80"></a>80</span>me very little. I + have argued this all out with your Father and he understands my feeling. + Won’t you be as generous?” + </p> + <p> + Before Ernest could answer, Chicken Little reached up both arms and gave + the speaker a hug and a kiss that were warm enough to satisfy the + loneliest heart. Before she had released him, Ernest had hold of his hand + and was trying to make up by the vigor of his hand shake for the + embarrassing dumbness which had seized him. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton relieved the situation by remarking mischievously: + </p> + <p> + “Ask Ernest who’s surprised now, Chicken Little?” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0080.jpg" id="img012" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_5"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_81"></a>81</span> + <img src="images/p0081.jpg" id="img013" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GUESTS ARRIVE + </h2> + <p> + The Morton family were up early the next morning. Jane was in a state of + prickly excitement between her delight over her wonderful pony, all her + very own, and the expected pleasure of seeing Katy and Gertie. + </p> + <p> + “If the others have grown as much as you kids, we shan’t + recognize them,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, we can tell which bunch to cut out by Alice and Dick,” + Ernest answered. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was horrified. “Ernest, the idea of your talking about + our friends as if they were cattle! I do trust you children will not + mortify me before our guests by using such vulgar expressions.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Mother,” Frank consoled her, “Alice and + Dick will revel in these vulgar westernisms. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_82"></a>82</span>See if they don’t. Why Mother, it’s + by slang that a language is enriched, didn’t you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “That will do, Frank. I should think you would try to help me keep + up correct standards instead of hindering. You will feel very differently + when Jilly is a little older.” + </p> + <p> + The train was due at two-thirty at the neighboring town of Garland–the + neighboring town being some nine miles distant. They decided to have an + early dinner at home, then Dr. Morton would drive the spring wagon in for + the guests, Frank would take the farm wagon for the trunks, while Jane and + Ernest formed a sort of ornamental body guard on their new ponies. + </p> + <p> + “My, but you present an imposing appearance!” laughed Marian + coming out to the road with Jilly to see them off. + </p> + <p> + “We do look rather patriarchal,” said Frank, glancing around + at the impressive array. “If we only had you and Mother mounted on + donkeys, the reception committee would be complete. I will do my best to + apologize for your absence.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are late, send Jane on ahead, they can see her a mile off on + that calico pony.” + </p> + <p> + “The piebald is conspicuous,” said the Doctor, “I guess + Captain Clarke picked him out for the Chicken so her mother could see her + from afar.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little ignored this pleasantry. “Thank <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_83"></a>83</span>you for saying + calico, Marian. I was just wondering what to call him and that will do + beautifully.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, have some mercy on the poor beast,” put in Ernest. + “Think of his having to answer to the name of Calico. Why don’t + you call him gingham apron or something really choice?” + </p> + <p> + “Allee samee, his name’s Calico. If you want to call yours, + Star of the Night or Aladdin or something high falutin, you just can.” + Jane set her lips firmly. She didn’t specially care for Calico but + she wasn’t going to be laughed out of it. + </p> + <p> + “That will do, children, it’s time to be off.” Dr. + Morton suited the action to the word by clucking to the team of bays he + drove, and the procession started. + </p> + <p> + They reached the station in good time. Both Ernest and Chicken Little + wanted to stay on their mounts and dash up beside the train, but their + father forbade it. + </p> + <p> + “Those ponies have never been properly introduced to an engine, and + I don’t wish to take you back in baskets. You can show off + sufficiently going home.” + </p> + <p> + So the ponies were left with the teams at a safe distance from the + railroad. + </p> + <p> + The train was twenty minutes late and it seemed an age to Chicken Little. + “I don’t see why you always have to wait for nice things, + while the unpleasant <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_84"></a>84</span>ones + come along without ever being asked,” she complained. + </p> + <p> + “What about the ponies? Do you class them with the unpleasant + things?” queried her father. “But here comes the train.” + </p> + <p> + Jane watched it puff in with a roar and a rattle and sundry bangs, her + eyes strained for the first glimpse of Katy and Gertie, Alice and Dick. + She really didn’t know which one she wanted to see worst. + </p> + <p> + “Bet Sherm will be the first one out,” said Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “Bet you Katy will!” + </p> + <p> + But it was Dick who hailed them first, before he turned to help down the + little girls. Alice came next, with Sherm who was still rather bashful, + bringing up the rear loaded down with satchels and lunch baskets. Katy and + Gertie fell upon Chicken Little instantly and Alice had to embrace the + whole bunch, because they kept on hugging and kissing Jane, laughing + hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “Here, where do I come in?” Dick rescued Jane from her friends + and gave her a resounding smack himself. After which he held up his hands + and exclaimed: “Say, Doctor Morton, what do you feed these infants + on to make them grow so fast? Jane’s a half head taller than either + Katie or Gertie and we thought Sherm would surely top Ernest. In fact, we + had our money on him to beat any of your <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_85"></a>85</span>mushroom Kansas effects, but Holy Smoke, I have + to look up to Ernest myself.” + </p> + <p> + Alice and Katie and Gertie were looking at Jane’s riding habit, + Gertie in considerable alarm. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t have to ride to the ranch on horseback, do we?” + </p> + <p> + Before the doctor could reassure them, Frank replied gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Of course, what did you expect in Kansas? We’ve brought six + horses and we thought two of the girls could ride in front of Dick and + myself. It’s only nine miles and the horses don’t gallop all + the way.” + </p> + <p> + The girls looked panic-stricken, even Alice seemed a little dazed, Frank + was so very plausible. Dick helped him on delightfully. + </p> + <p> + “I told you, Alice, you’d better put your riding habit in your + satchel. I suppose the horses are gentle, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they don’t often throw anyone that’s used to them. + Naturally, they’re a little gayer in summer when they’re in + the pasture so much.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest could not resist adding his bit. “I was thrown three times + last week, would you like to try my pony, Katy?” + </p> + <p> + This revealed the game to Alice. + </p> + <p> + “You awful fibbers, don’t you believe a word they say, girls.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_86"></a>86</span>“Honest + Injun,” said Ernest, “I was.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s the truth,” Frank confirmed. + </p> + <p> + Poor little Gertie, who was already beginning to realize that she was very + far from home and in a strange land besides, commenced to cry. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton came promptly to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + “That’ll do, boys. Save your joking till our guests are rested + from their journey at least. Frank, you and Dick look up the trunks while + Ernest and Sherm help me bring up the wagons. It’s all right, dear,” + he put his arm reassuringly around Gertie, “you shall ride in one of + the most comfortable of vehicles if we haven’t a carriage to offer + you. You mustn’t pay any attention to their teasing.” + </p> + <p> + After the first two miles of their homeward journey, Chicken Little gave + up her pony to Sherm and climbed in with the girls. Ernest offered to + change saddles, but Sherm declared he didn’t mind the side saddle + and cheerfully bore all the jokes the party cut at his expense. Dr. Morton + watched him approvingly. “Good stuff,” he said to himself, as + Sherm returned the sallies without wincing. The boy’s long legs + dangling from the side saddle were a comical sight. Sherm, if not quite so + tall as Ernest, was rather better proportioned and delightfully supple and + muscular. He was the same matter-of-fact, straight-forward boy he had + always been, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_87"></a>87</span>but + his father’s long illness had sobered him, though he could be + hilarious, as he was proving now. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Sherm,” Katy prodded, “why don’t you borrow + Jane’s riding skirt too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sherm, go the lengths–you’d make a beautiful girl,” + teased Alice. + </p> + <p> + Sherm laughed. “Chicken Little may have something to say to that!” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you’d be making excuses.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm was not to be bluffed. “Not much, hand it over, Chicken + Little.” + </p> + <p> + “You never can get into it, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + “What’ll you bet?” + </p> + <p> + “It’ll be too small around the waist.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton stopped and Jane hastily slipped off the skirt, presenting + rather a funny appearance herself with her habit basque and the blue lawn + dress showing beneath. Sherm dismounted, turning Calico over to Ernest to + hold. The entire party shouted when Jane reached up on tiptoe to throw the + clumsy skirt over his head. Sherm neglected to hold it, and the shot in + the hem promptly dropped it to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Gee,” exclaimed Sherm, “the cranky thing seems to have + a mind of its own.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what the girls want to wear the pesky things + for,” grumbled Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “They don’t want to wear them–but their pernickety <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_88"></a>88</span>brothers and fathers + and husbands consider them modest,” Alice hit back promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I consider them very dangerous,” said Dr. Morton. + </p> + <p> + While this bantering was going on, Chicken Little was vainly endeavoring + to fasten the band around Sherm’s waist. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll just have to squeeze in, Sherm. I can never make it + meet,” she giggled. + </p> + <p> + “I’m squeezing in, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + With a triumphant pull, Jane got the band buttoned and Sherm heaved a sigh + of relief–a disastrous sigh–it sent the button flying and the + weighted skirt once more slid to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Drat it!” Sherm groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you said you’d wear it. Don’t let him back out, + Chicken Little,” Katy urged. + </p> + <p> + “Who said anything about backing out?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to get a string, Jane. Haven’t you a piece + in your pocket, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + Frank produced the string and by dint of using it generously, the skirt + was finally secured and Sherm still allowed some breathing room. + </p> + <p> + But the girls were not yet satisfied. Katy insisted upon lending him her + leghorn hat and Alice contributed a veil. Gertie offered a hair ribbon + which Chicken Little slyly pinned to the collar of Sherm’s coat. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_89"></a>89</span>He was a sight + for the gods when he finally remounted. But he carried it off with a dash, + assuming various kittenish airs and coquetries, even waving saucily at two + cowboys who passed them and turned to stare in bewilderment at his bizarre + costume. + </p> + <p> + The ride home passed quickly with all this fun. Gertie cheered up and + enjoyed the prairie sights as much as the others. Gertie seemed the same + little girl of three years before except for her added inches, but Katy + had many little grown-up airs and graces and evidently felt the importance + of her fourteen years. + </p> + <p> + “Almost fifteen,” she answered Dr. Morton when he inquired her + age. The two girls were dressed alike still, but Katy managed in some + subtle way to give her clothes a different air from Gertie’s. + “I don’t know just what the difference is,” Marian + remarked to Alice a day or two after their coming, “but Katy is + stylish and Gertie demurely sweet in the self-same dress.” + </p> + <p> + “Personality will out, even in children,” Alice replied. + “They are both unusually bright and well brought up, but Katy is + ambitious and likes to cut a bit of a dash, and Gertie doesn’t. She + is a home and mother girl. I am amazed that she screwed up her courage to + come so far without her mother. I fear she is already a trifle homesick, + though she <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_90"></a>90</span>is + enjoying every minute, and is enchanted with the chickens and pups and all + this outdoor life.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little found out these things more gradually. On the long ride + home from the station they chattered busily. All three felt a little shy + for the first minutes but there was so much to tell. Katy had finished her + freshman year in the High School and spun great tales of their doings. + Carol had graduated the week before. + </p> + <p> + “He is awfully handsome, Chicken Little. All the girls are mashed on + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Are what, Katy?” demanded Alice who had been listening to + Dick and Dr. Morton with one ear open for the girl’s confidences. + She felt rather responsible to Mrs. Halford for Katy and Gertie. + </p> + <p> + Katy colored. “I don’t care, Alice, that’s what all the + girls say, and I can’t be goody-goody and proper all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Katy, if you think Mother likes that kind of slang, I + don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + Katy didn’t say anything further to Alice, but when she resumed her + story to Jane, she said: “Well, I don’t care what you call it, + but they all are! And he just smiles in that lazy way of his and doesn’t + put himself out for anybody. He didn’t even take a girl to the + senior party, and lots of the Senior girls had to go in a bunch because + they didn’t have an escort.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_91"></a>91</span>“But he + had awfully good marks,” added Gertie, “and Prof. Slocum said + he could have been Valedictorian just as well as not if he had tried a + little harder.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the trouble–he’s too lazy to try. I guess + if he goes to the Naval Academy as he wants to, he’ll have to get + over being lazy.” Katy evidently wasted no sympathy on Carol. + </p> + <p> + The mention of the Naval Academy fired Jane. She shouted the news to + Ernest who was some distance ahead with Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sherm’s just told me,” he called back, “wouldn’t + it be scrumptious if we both got to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is Ernest going?” Katy and Alice and Dick all exclaimed + nearly in unison. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little told them all about Ernest’s plans and about the + Captain. Katy wished to call on this fascinating individual immediately. + But Dr. Morton suggested that he thought they would all be tired enough to + rest for the remainder of the day by the time they arrived at the ranch. + They were, but not too tired to enjoy Mrs. Morton’s hearty country + supper. + </p> + <p> + Dick ate hot biscuit and creamed potatoes and fried chicken till Alice + declared she shouldn’t have the face to stay a month, if he gorged + like that all the time. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll stop keeping tab on his appetite before <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_92"></a>92</span>you have been here + many days, Alice. You’ll be busy satisfying your own. You will find + country air a marvellous tonic,” Dr. Morton assured her. + </p> + <p> + They were all amused to see Katy looking in shocked amazement at Gertie + who had just been persuaded to have a second heaping saucer of raspberries + and cream. To be sure, Katy herself had had two drumsticks and a breast. + But she considered being served twice to dessert away from home highly + improper. + </p> + <p> + “I wish it were a little later in the season so Ernest could bring + us in quail for you,” said Mrs. Morton. + </p> + <p> + “Quail?” Dick’s face lighted. “Is the hunting + still good around here?” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent for quail and prairie chicken, and the plover are + plentiful at certain seasons,” Dr. Morton replied. + </p> + <p> + “They found two deer on the creek last winter,” added Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there are a few strays left but the day for them has + practically gone by.” + </p> + <p> + “Dick, if you go hunting you’ve got to take me.” Alice + put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and rested her chin on his + hair. + </p> + <p> + “Barkus is willing if you can stand the tramp.” + </p> + <p> + “We don’t tramp, we drive. It’s a trifle too early for + hunting, but by the latter part of next <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_93"></a>93</span>week, you might try it. You can take the boys + and spring wagon and have an all-day picnic. I can spare them, and Ernest + for a guide.” + </p> + <p> + “Can we all go?” Katy started up excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I can shoot a little,” Chicken Little sounded + patronizing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Chicken Little can shoot but she never hits anything–she + always shuts her eyes before she pulls the trigger,” Ernest called + her down promptly. + </p> + <p> + “It’s no such thing, Ernest Morton, I killed a quail once, + didn’t I, Father?” + </p> + <p> + “Dick, if you’ll come and unrope our trunks, I think we’d + better be getting our things out,” said Alice an hour later. + </p> + <p> + “Yours to command, Captain. I am perishing to have Chicken Little + see my present.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Jane, what do you think? Dick had to go and pick you out a + gift all by himself–he wasn’t satisfied with my efforts. And + he has the impudence to insist that you will like his best.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ve got a package for you, too, but I don’t know what’s + in it. Mother wouldn’t let us see. Let’s go unpack quick, + Gertie, and find out.” + </p> + <p> + “And I want to show my trousseau! Shall I get it out to-night, Mrs. + Morton, or wait till morning?” + </p> + <p> + “To-night, Alice,” spoke up Marian, “I want to see it + and I’ll be busy in the morning. I am pining to see some pretty + clothes.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_94"></a>94</span>Dick had + already vanished into the upper regions and he called down airily: “Doors + open, ladies. World renowned aggregation of feminine wearing apparel, + including one pair of the very latest hoops and the youngest thing in + bustles, now on exhibition.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton looked shocked, and Marian and Alice tried to control their + amusement. “The heathen, I warned him to be good.” Alice + laughed in spite of herself with an apologetic glance at Mrs. Morton. The + girls had bolted upstairs at the first words of Dick’s invitation. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Mother, don’t mind Dick’s nonsense,” + said Marian, linking her arm in hers and gently drawing her up. “It + will do you good to see Alice’s pretty things.” + </p> + <p> + Dick held the door open for them with a deep salaam. Alice held up a + finger warningly with an imperceptible gesture in Mrs. Morton’s + direction. He shrugged his shoulders repentantly. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Alice, if you’ll just dig out my particular parcel I’ll + vamoose. Women complain that men never take an interest in their affairs + and then if a misguided chap tries to act intelligent, he is snubbed.” + Dick’s tone sounded injured. + </p> + <p> + Alice kissed the tip of his ear and shoved him out of the way. “You’re + so big, Dick, there’s never room for anyone else when you’re + around.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_95"></a>95</span>Alice deftly + opened trays and lids, pulling out protecting papers; she handed Dick a + large flat parcel. + </p> + <p> + Dick received it with his hand on his heart, then striking an oratorical + attitude, addressed Jane in the formal tone he used in court. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, Miss Chicken Little Jane Morton, I have the great honor on + this suspicious occasion to present to you on behalf of my unworthy self, + a slight testimonial of my deep respect and undying affection–Alice, + stop winking at Marian–Mrs. Morton, is it fitting for a wife to stop + the flow of her husband’s eloquence by winking? I wish you’d + take Alice in hand. I think she needs some lessons in the proprieties. As + I was saying, I wish to present this trifle to you, and the only + expression of gratitude I desire in return, is thirty kisses to be + delivered one daily, on or before the twelfth hour of each day, to which + witness my seal and hand.” + </p> + <p> + With another bow, he resigned the parcel to Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + She promptly tendered one kiss in advance. Then stripped off the papers + with eager fingers. A charming white leghorn hat appeared. It was faced + with pale blue and trimmed with knots of apple blossoms and black velvet + ribbon. + </p> + <p> + “How charming!” exclaimed Mrs. Morton. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_96"></a>96</span>“Dick, I + didn’t suppose you had such good taste!” added Marian. + </p> + <p> + “Try it on quick, Chicken Little.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little’s shining eyes and clear, fair skin fitted like a + charm under the pale blue. + </p> + <p> + Dick was jubilant. “I saw that hat in a shop window and I thought it + looked exactly like Chicken Little. Who says a man can’t pick out a + hat?” + </p> + <p> + He departed without waiting for any disparaging remarks. + </p> + <p> + Alice’s present came next, a charming muslin with sash and hair + ribbons the exact shade of the blue hat facing. + </p> + <p> + “If it only fits, Jane. I left some to let out in the hem, but you + are bigger every way than I thought. I tried it on Katie.” + </p> + <p> + “Changing it a little at the waist will make it perfect,” + Marian reassured her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so glad it is snug, and just the right length, Alice. + Mother–” Chicken Little stopped suddenly, she couldn’t + be criticising mother before company. “You see I grow so dreadfully + fast that Mother has to make everything too big so it’ll last a + while.” + </p> + <p> + Marian supplemented this explanation later to Alice. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child, Mother Morton does make her clothes too big! And it + doesn’t do a bit of good <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_97"></a>97</span>for they hang on her the whole season and by the + next they’re either worn or faded–and she generally manages to + out-grow them, in spite of their bigness.” + </p> + <p> + The girl’s parcel was found to contain candy and a duck of a fan. + </p> + <p> + But Alice’s wedding things soon put everything else in the shade. + The dainty sets of underwear with their complicated puffs and insertings, + frilled petticoats, silk and muslin and poplin gowns, hats and parasols, + lay in a rainbow colored heap on the bed and chairs. + </p> + <p> + “Alice,” said Marian, caressing some of the dainty lingerie, + “who is going to iron all these puffs and ruffles? It would take + hours to do them right, especially the petticoats.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Marian–I asked Aunt Clara the same question. And do + you know what I have done?” + </p> + <p> + Her audience looked interested. + </p> + <p> + “I just went down town the minute I got to Centerville and got some + nice strong muslin and I’ve been making it up perfectly plain except + for a tiny edge. They are heaps more comfortable–and I wear these + others for best. Why, I couldn’t keep a maid and hurl all that stuff + at her every week!” + </p> + <p> + “Are they wearing hoops pretty generally?” Mrs. Morton + inquired as Alice laughingly held a pair up for inspection. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_98"></a>98</span>“Yes, and + bustles too. See this buff poplin with the panniers just has to have a + bustle. Thank goodness they’re young yet, as Dick says, but I + suppose they’ll keep on getting bigger.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I should think they’d be so hot and horrid.” + </p> + <p> + “They are, but the hoops are delightfully cool, only you have to be + on your guard with the treacherous things or they swing up in front when + you sit down, in a most mortifying fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a pair to wear with my muslin dresses–it makes them + stand out beautifully,” said Katy complacently. “But Mother + wouldn’t let Gertie have any. She said she was too young.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t want the old things,” Gertie protested. + “And you wouldn’t have got yours if you hadn’t teased + perfectly awful, and I heard Mother say she guessed you’d soon be + sick enough of them.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree entirely with your mother, Gertie, I consider them + unsuitable for little girls. But they do set off a handsome dress to + advantage. I remember during the war we used to wear such large ones we + could hardly get through a door with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother Morton, I bet you were a lot more frivolous than we are now.” + Marian put her hand lovingly on the wrinkled one that was smoothing the + folds of a rich silk. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton smiled. “Well, we had our pretty things. Alice’s + dresses are lovely, but she hasn’t <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_99"></a>99</span>anything more elegant than my second day dress. + It was a brown and silver silk brocade with thread lace chemisette and + under sleeves. And my next best was apple green and pink changeable, + trimmed in yards and yards of narrow black velvet ribbon all sewed on by + hand.” + </p> + <p> + “How I should love to have seen them!” Alice smiled wistfully. + “You know I didn’t have any of my mother’s things.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on, girls, it’s getting late, let’s help Alice put + her treasures away. They couldn’t be nicer, Alice, and I think you + are going to be a very happy woman to make up for that desolate girlhood + of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Marian was already folding the garments. They were soon laid away snugly + in trunk and closet and drawers, and the whole family packed off to bed to + be ready for the early farm breakfast on the morrow. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0099.jpg" id="img014" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_6"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_100"></a>100</span> + <img src="images/p0100.jpg" id="img015" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + A HUNTING PARTY + </h2> + <p> + The day following the arrival of the guests was spent in resting and + seeing the ranch. Katy and Gertie had never been on a large farm before, + and the thousand acres of field and prairie and woodland, seemed as + marvellous as the tales they had read of the big English estates. Alice + and Dick were also fascinated by all this space and freedom, but they saw + deeper than the little girls. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a wonderful place,” said Dick, “and I don’t + wonder the Doctor is proud of it. But he is too well along in years to + handle such a big undertaking. I doubt if the ranch pays for ten years to + come, and it means hard work and a lonely life for all of them. It’s + all right for Frank and Marian, but I’m sorry for the rest of the + family.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Morton is growing old fast with all this <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_101"></a>101</span>unaccustomed + drudgery, and she is worried about the children’s education, I can + see,” replied Alice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there are two sides to it. I guess we’ll stick to the + law and little old Centerville; we may not die rich, but we’ll be a + lot more comfortable as we go along.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm took to the farm like the proverbial duck to the pond. He donned + overalls that first morning and was off with Frank and Ernest to the + fields before the little girls were out of bed. After breakfast Jane took + Katie and Gertie to see the sights of the ranch. First to the spring under + the old oak where the cold, clear water gushed from the rocks into a + little basin, and then tumbled down a rocky channel under the springhouse + and on for some hundred of yards farther before it widened out into the + pond. + </p> + <p> + “We can go swimming in the pond but there is a nicer place in the + creek above the ford.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’d love to learn to swim but we haven’t any + bathing suits.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, that doesn’t matter, we just take some old dresses–there + isn’t anybody to see you, especially down at the creek. You know it’s + private ground and the trees hang over the pool all around so the sun only + comes in a little bit. We’ll get Marian to go with us.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you could skate, too.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_102"></a>102</span>“We do. + I had a great time once last winter–Father told me the ice was too + thin, but I saw a yearling calf go over all right and I thought the ice + would bear me. But I guess calfie had more sense about the weak places. At + any rate, I went through, near the middle. The water was up to my + shoulders. Gee, it was cold and the ice kept breaking when I tried to + climb out–and the men were all away. I most froze before I got to + the bank, and then my skate straps were so wet I couldn’t loosen + them, besides my fingers were too numb to bend. I had to walk on the + skates all the way to the house. My teeth chattered till they almost + played tunes by the time I got to the door.” Chicken Little shivered + at the recollection. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the cunning little stone house for?” Gertie’s + attention was caught by a tiny hut without windows on the edge of the + pond. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s the smokehouse. We’re so far from town that + we put away a lot of meat every winter. The hams and sides of bacon are + smoked there.” + </p> + <p> + “And that wooden building over yonder?” + </p> + <p> + “The granary–for the wheat and rye. Those open log houses are + the corn cribs.” + </p> + <p> + “My, it takes a lot of buildings to make a ranch.” Katy was + impressed in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + “We haven’t been to the barns and corrals yet. I love the hay + mow.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_103"></a>103</span>Chicken + Little had not forgotten lumps of sugar for Calico and Caliph. Ernest had + given his pony a high-sounding name. The intelligent beast was proud and + dainty enough to deserve it. He was shy about coming for his lump, but + when he once got the taste, he nosed around Chicken Little for more. + </p> + <p> + They ended the morning’s wanderings in Jane’s own particular + bower, known to the family as the Weeping Willows because she had once + retired there to cry out her troubles, and had been discovered in a very + moist state by Frank, who was a merciless tease. + </p> + <p> + There were two rows of the old willows. They formed a long leafy room on + the edge of one of the orchards, out of sight both of the house and road. + Chicken Little had been known to flee thither on more than one occasion + when she did not wish to be disturbed in the thrilling place in a novel. + For you really couldn’t hear any one calling from the house in this + leafy fastness. Ernest had made her two or three rustic seats, and a + little cupboard where she could keep her treasures sheltered from the sun + and rain. + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie were charmed with this retreat. + </p> + <p> + “If there was only a table, I could write all my letters home out + here. Wouldn’t it be romantic?” Katy loved the unusual. + </p> + <p> + “It’s lovely, Jane, let’s stay out here lots.” + Gertie <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_104"></a>104</span>settled + down on one of the seats with a little sigh. “I wish I had my old + doll here; it would make such a dandy playhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertie Halford, the idea of a great, big girl like you wanting to + play with dolls.” + </p> + <p> + “I get Victoria out sometimes and dress her up,” confessed + Jane. “It isn’t much fun all alone, but I like to see her + sometimes. If you’d like to, Gertie, we’ll have a doll sewing + bee this afternoon and you can be Victoria’s mother and Katie and I + will be dressmaker’s though I never could sew decently. Mother’s + about given me up in despair.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had noticed a little far-away look in Gertie’s eyes + ever since she came. Marian had warned her the night before that she had + better keep Gertie pretty busy for a day or two, or she would be homesick. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, Chicken Little’s kindness precipitated the + catastrophe she was trying to avoid. She was so motherly she reminded + Gertie afresh of the dear little mother she had left so many miles behind + and the tears came in spite of her. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little coaxed and comforted, and Katy coaxed and scolded, but + Gertie’s tears were apparently turned on for keeps and the Weeping + Willows was earning its name again. Gertie cried till she got all shivery, + declaring solemnly whenever she could command her voice sufficiently to + talk, that <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_105"></a>105</span>there + wasn’t a thing the matter–only–only–she–was + a little bit homesick. + </p> + <p> + She wouldn’t hear to Jane’s going to fetch Alice or Mrs. + Morton or Marian. “She’d be all right in a minute, if they’d + just let her alone.” + </p> + <p> + But the minutes went by and she still cried, and in spite of the warm June + sunshine, her hands felt cold and her shoulders shook as if with an ague. + Chicken Little and Katy were both getting worried when help came in the + shape of Marian and Jilly. + </p> + <p> + Marian understood at a glance, and dropping to the ground beside her, drew + her into her lap and chafed the cold hands while she bade Jilly hug poor + Gertie. Jilly was a born comforter and she half smothered the patient with + her energetic hugs and moist, warm kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad, too bad–ants bite Gertie, too bad! Jilly fine + ’em.” + </p> + <p> + Jilly had not forgotten her own sad experience with the ants and not + seeing any visible cause for Gertie’s woes, evidently thought they + were the guilty ones again. + </p> + <p> + Jilly was irresistible. Gertie had to laugh, even if the tears running + down her face, did leave a salty taste in her mouth. She hugged the small + comforter. Jilly, however, was not to be turned from her hunt. She + insisted upon pulling down Gertie’s stockings and making a minute + search for the culprits. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_106"></a>106</span>Her + little tickling fingers and earnest air completed Gertie’s cure, and + Jilly adopted her as her own particular property from that day on, seeming + to consider her in need of protection. + </p> + <p> + Marian declared they must all come and have dinner with her. Ernest and + Sherm were already there and they had a merry meal in the little cottage, + for Marian made them all help–even the big boys. She tied a blue + apron around Sherm and set him to stirring gravy while Ernest watched four + cherry pies almost ready to come out of the oven. She had despatched Katy + and Jane to the springhouse after milk and butter. Gertie, assisted by + Jilly, set the table. + </p> + <p> + Sherm had burned a nice fiery red during his morning’s plowing. He + was immensely proud of his efforts. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you Sherm’s some farmer for a tenderfoot,” said + Ernest, telling about the number of corn rows he had done. + </p> + <p> + “Better come stay with us, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t I come–I love the ranch. But I suppose I’ve + got four years of college ahead of me.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have time enough after that, Sherm,” said Frank, + “but if you should want to try ranching, you’d better come out + this way.” + </p> + <p> + “No ranching for me.” Ernest thumped the table with his fork + emphatically. “You can have my <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_107"></a>107</span>berth, Sherm, and welcome. The only thing I + care for here, is the hunting. By the way, Frank, are you and Marian going + hunting with us?” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to. What do you say, Marian?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, if there’s room for so many.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could ask Captain Clarke,” Chicken Little spoke up. + </p> + <p> + “My, you are daffy about the Captain, Jane. He wouldn’t go–you + couldn’t hire him to if he knew Alice and I were to be of the party. + Queer he is so charming with Jane, and with the men and boys, and so very + reserved and stiff with women.” + </p> + <p> + “He probably has some reason for disliking your sex. Perhaps, if we’d + let him go with the children and the boys, he might be persuaded to come. + He’d only see you at luncheon time. What’s the matter, Katie?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not a child,” said Katy with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “All right, you may come with us grown-ups and let the Captain have + the children and the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “You’d better find out whether the Captain is willing before + you plan so definitely, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll send Chicken Little and Sherm over on the ponies as a + special deputation to invite him. You must coax your prettiest, Sis.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d love to. I just know I can get him to come. Will you go + with me, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_108"></a>108</span>“Nothing + I’d like better,” responded Sherm heartily. + </p> + <p> + The next few days fairly twinkled by. The girls roamed the woods and the + fields with Dick and Alice, and went in bathing, and fed chickens, and + even made little pats of butter down in the cool springhouse. Gertie + mourned because she could not send hers home straightway to Mother. + Chicken Little and Sherm waited until Sunday to go over to the Captain’s. + </p> + <p> + Sherm found Caliph and the Mexican saddle rather more to his taste than + Chicken Little’s outfit had been on the ride from town. He had about + all he could do for the first five minutes to manage Caliph for he had had + little opportunity for riding at home. But he had a cool head, and with a + few suggestions from Jane, he soon convinced Caliph that he had a new + master as determined as Ernest, if not quite so skilful a horseman. They + did not talk much. Sherm considered Jane a little girl and Jane stood + rather in awe of Sherm. But they enjoyed the brisk ride none the less. The + swift motion with the wind in their faces, the wide stretches of prairie + bounded on the distant horizon by a faint line of timber, were novel and + delightful to Sherm. To Jane, they were familiar and dearly loved. + Besides, she liked having Sherm with her. + </p> + <p> + He glanced at her from time to time. Chicken <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_109"></a>109</span>Little glanced back with sweet, friendly eyes. + It was she who finally broke the ice. + </p> + <p> + “I do hope the Captain will go. I’m most sure he’ll like + you, because his little boy looked a lot like you. He showed me the + picture.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems to like you all right from what they say.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little laughed merrily. + </p> + <p> + Sherm couldn’t quite see the connection. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s so funny about that?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you cross your heart never to tell, Sherm? Frank and Ernest + would tease the life out of me if they knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Cut my heart out and eat it, if I ever breathe a word.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little related the swearing episode which she had not seen fit to + trouble even Marian with, at home. “I guess,” she concluded, + “he felt sort of sorry for me right at the start and that made him + like me.” + </p> + <p> + “’Twouldn’t be such a hard job as you seem to think, + Jane,” Sherm surprised himself by saying. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little flushed and looked up hastily at Sherm who also felt his + face getting warm to his great disgust. Sherm hated softies of any kind. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I believe there’s the Captain now over by the pasture + fence.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke was riding round the pastures inspecting <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_110"></a>110</span>the barbed wire + fencing. He soon hailed them. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Little Neighbor, is the piebald behaving himself?” + </p> + <p> + Jane introduced Sherm as soon as they came abreast. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Clarke, this is Ernest’s friend, the Sherman Dart I + told you about.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke scanned the boy’s face curiously. His own went a + little white after an instant’s inspection. + </p> + <p> + “You are right–he is marvellously like what my boy might be + to-day. I beg your pardon for my rude scrutiny. Possibly Jane has told you + of the resemblance. You will come up to the house and let Wing give you + some lemonade. It is hot this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little declined to take him from his course and told him their + errand. He hesitated. “You say Mr. and Mrs. Harding and your brother + and his wife are going. Would you think me very rude and unappreciative if + I declined, dear? I am poor company for anyone these days and—” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked so disappointed that he paused ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “Please, just this once, Katie and Gertie want to see you dreadfully + and you could go with us. Pretty please.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_111"></a>111</span>She thought + she saw signs of weakening. Sherm also noticed the Captain’s + hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “We’ve all sort of set our hearts on having you, Sir. Chicken + Little and Ernest have talked so much about you we feel acquainted, and + Dr. Morton says you’re a dead shot. I’ve never hunted anything + but squirrels myself.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke stared at Sherm as if in a dream for a minute. The boy was + embarrassed by his silence and smiled his little crooked smile to cover + it. Their host passed his hand over his eyes and sighed. Then he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It’s no disgrace to surrender to a superior force. I am yours + to command. But I stipulate that you two stand by me.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gave a bounce in her saddle to emphasize her delight and + Calico took this as a hint to go on. + </p> + <p> + “Whoa, Calico! Thank you–bushels! Oh, I just know we’ll + have the best time! Would you mind if we children all went with you + because nobody’s going to be willing to be left out?” + </p> + <p> + “I can take five nicely and have plenty of room for guns and lunch + baskets besides. By the way, please tell your mother that Wing Fan will + never forgive me if he is not permitted to get up the lunch for all the + young people at the very least.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_112"></a>112</span>“Have + you a gun with you?” he asked Sherm as they were going. + </p> + <p> + “No, but Ernest said I might take his.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a new shotgun. I should be glad if you would share it with + me.” + </p> + <p> + They found Alice and Dick, Marian, Katie, Gertie and Jilly, not to mention + Huz and Buz, waiting for them on the Morton side of the ford. + </p> + <p> + “What luck?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm didn’t give Jane a chance to reply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Chicken Little just put on her company smile and the Captain + held out his hands and said: ‘Handcuffs, please.’” He + was meeker than Buz. + </p> + <p> + “Sherman Dart, you old–” Chicken Little flicked Caliph + lightly by way of revenge, and Sherm had his hands full for several + seconds, for Caliph resented the indignity. + </p> + <p> + It was arranged to start early the following Saturday morning. Mrs. Morton + and Annie were up soon after daylight busy with the mysteries of fried + chicken and fresh rolls. The men of the party were equally busy cleaning + guns and routing out all sorts of hunting toggery. The girls tried to help + everybody impartially, succeeding for the most part in making a general + nuisance of themselves. + </p> + <p> + At exactly seven-thirty Captain Clarke drove up with a wonderful team of + blacks. His hunting jacket was belted in with a formidable looking <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_113"></a>113</span>cartridge belt, two + shotguns were slid in on the floor of the spring wagon, and lunch baskets + and a great earthenware jug of lemonade were wedged in under the seats. He + gave a shrill hunting halloo as he drew up at the gate. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was a little disturbed at the gay looking team. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure they are safe with the guns? You know young + people are often reckless and this is a very precious load.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear madam, I think I can answer for Jim and Jerry. I took them + out for an hour yesterday and used the gun over their heads to make sure + they hadn’t forgotten their manners.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain met the strangers of the party in his usual courteous reserved + fashion, but his eyes lighted when Chicken Little ran down the walk. He + established Ernest and Katie and Gertie on the back seat and swung Jane up + in front to the driver’s seat with Sherm on her left. + </p> + <p> + “Ernest, I’ll handle the ribbons going, if it suits you, and + you can drive us back. I have an idea you will have the sharpest eye for + game of any of this crowd. We ought to do our best work the next two hours + for snipe. We probably won’t find many prairie chickens until we get + over on Little John. By the way, boys, be careful not to disturb the + mother birds–there are still some on the nests. I <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_114"></a>114</span>really don’t + like to hunt quite so early in the season as this, although a good many of + the young birds are shifting for themselves already–bird parents + have a beautiful faith in Providence. They don’t worry long about + their young.” + </p> + <p> + A light shower had fallen the night before and the air was fresh and + fragrant with the smell of wet grasses and moist earth. + </p> + <p> + The rattle of wheels close behind assured them that Frank and his load + were near. + </p> + <p> + “Kansas certainly takes the cake for climate,” Dick called to + them, happily reckless about corrupting the young folk with his slang. + Alice promptly reproached him. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Morton would send you home by the first train if she heard + you.” + </p> + <p> + Dick assumed an air of mock woe. “Oh, I say there, Chicken Little, + don’t mention that little matter of the cake–that particular + cake isn’t respectable, Alice says.” + </p> + <p> + It was Frank who got the first shot. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Marian, take the lines quick. Hold them tight–they may + jump when I fire. Turn out of the road–to the right–slowly + now. Stop!” + </p> + <p> + Frank drew the gun to his shoulder and took careful aim while the others + were still vainly trying to see something to shoot at. A snap, a flash, + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_115"></a>115</span>and a bird + whirred up a hundred paces away, flew a few feet from the ground, and + fell. + </p> + <p> + Frank ran to the spot and held up a good-sized plover. Marian and Alice + examined it pitifully. + </p> + <p> + “What a slender delicate thing it is! It seems a shame to kill it. I + like the excitement of hunting but I always want to cry over the victims,” + said Alice with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + Sherm caught sight of a covey soon after. He and Ernest slipped out of the + wagon and stole up as close as possible. Ernest got two with the + scattering bird shot, but Sherm missed. + </p> + <p> + “You were too anxious, lad. Stop an instant always before you fire + to make sure your hand is steady,” the Captain consoled him kindly. + </p> + <p> + Sherm profited by this advice and brought down his next bird. Captain + Clarke left the game to the boys until their first zest for the sport was + satisfied. Chicken Little frequently discovered the birds before either of + the boys, and was eager to have a turn herself, as was also Katy. Gertie + put her hands to her ears every time a gun was fired and openly hoped they + wouldn’t find any more game to shoot at. Captain Clarke advised the + girls to wait a little, and watch the boys carefully to see exactly how + they aimed and rested their guns, and he would help them both a little + later. But Ernest soon undertook Katie’s education and was surprised + to find <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_116"></a>116</span>he + had a very apt pupil. Katy had as steady a nerve and as true an eye as + either of the boys. Ernest began to be alarmed lest his pupil win his + honors away from him. + </p> + <p> + “You must have shot before, Katy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have with a revolver. Uncle Sim used to let me shoot at a target. + And he had an archery club last summer.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain did his best for Chicken Little but she did not do nearly so + well as Katy, though she made one shot the Captain considered quite + extraordinary. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a pretty long range for a novice, little neighbor, but + you can try it.” + </p> + <p> + Two birds flew up where she had seen one. “Oh, dear, I missed,” + she lamented. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not so sure,” said Sherm. “Let’s go + see.” + </p> + <p> + He helped her down and they made a brisk run toward the spot where the + grouse had risen. After a few minutes, Sherm stooped and picked up a bird + considerably to the right of where Chicken Little had aimed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll be jiggered!” he exclaimed with a puzzled + expression. “You did get one.” + </p> + <p> + He stood looking down thoughtfully at the ground. Chicken Little hurried + to him elated, but her joy was short-lived. Snuggled among the grasses was + an empty nest. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_117"></a>117</span>“Oh, do + you ’spose she was on the nest? But I couldn’t have seen her + if she had been–and it’s empty.” + </p> + <p> + By way of reply, Sherm stooped again and picked up a baby grouse from a + clump of weeds. Fear had frozen it into a motionless wee brown image. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the poor little darling! I took its mother.” Chicken + Little looked ready to cry. + </p> + <p> + Bending down Sherm parted the weeds and grasses cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s another–and another. We must hunt them, Chicken + Little, and take them home or they will all starve. Gee, what can we put + them in?” + </p> + <p> + Jane slipped her hat elastic from under her braid, and taking a handful of + long grass to line it with, soon made a snug nest. They tucked the mottled + downy bunches into it. + </p> + <p> + “What in Sam Hill are you people doing over there?” called + Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “Little grouse–come help us find them,” Sherm called + back. “Be careful now or you’ll step on them,” he warned + as Ernest and the girls came running up. “They are the slyest little + codgers–you don’t see them until you are right on them.” + </p> + <p> + Gertie was on her knees peering before the words were out of his mouth. + She lifted a fourth mite from its hiding place, and a fifth, and a sixth, + almost as fast as she could pick them up. “Oh, aren’t they + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_118"></a>118</span>dear? May I + hold them, Jane, when we get back to the wagon?” Gertie was + caressing them with hands and eyes. + </p> + <p> + There were ten chicks cuddled in the hat, when after a thorough search of + the weeds, Ernest announced that they must surely have them all. But to + make sure they went over the ground in all directions once more. + </p> + <p> + Jane was very sober. Sherm tried to cheer her. + </p> + <p> + “You couldn’t help it, Chicken Little. You didn’t mean + to.” Sherm smiled his funny smile as he said this. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you smiling? Oh, I know–I believe so, too.” + </p> + <p> + “What secrets are you talking?” Katy was curious. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, speak United States, it isn’t polite to leave your + guests in the dark this way,” growled Ernest. + </p> + <p> + Jane haughtily declined to explain just then. When they returned to the + wagon, they found the Captain as much interested in the shot, as he was in + the prairie chicks. + </p> + <p> + “That was really a wonderful hit, little girl. I congratulate you.” + </p> + <p> + Jane stole a glance at Sherm. He wasn’t looking at her, but he was + smiling. Jane smiled, too. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain Clarke,” she replied demurely, “it was + rather astonishing.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_119"></a>119</span>This was too + much for Sherm who chuckled openly. Captain Clarke looked from one to the + other inquiringly. The others were completely mystified. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’d just like to know what you two are up to.” + Katy wrinkled her nose in disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t a fellow laugh without having to give an account of + himself?” Sherm parried, still trying to stave off the mirth that + possessed him. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little’s face was sweetly sober. “He’s + appreciating my–skill–the rest of you don’t seem to + realize what a feat—” A sound, something between a crow and a + suppressed steam whistle interrupted her. Sherm whooped until he was red + in the face. Chicken Little regarded him reproachfully, but continued: + “You see most anybody can hit the chicken they aim at, but it takes + a fine shot to hit one you didn’t know was there.” She grinned + mischievously up at the Captain who grinned back delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Chicken Little?” + </p> + <p> + “Really.” She joined in the general laugh. + </p> + <p> + “What did you want to tell for?” Sherm had enjoyed having the + joke to himself. + </p> + <p> + She didn’t answer then, but later she whispered: “Because the + Captain–I didn’t want him praising me that way!” + </p> + <p> + Noon found them fifteen miles from home with <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_120"></a>120</span>a bag of six snipe and ten prairie chickens, + and appetites that fairly clamored. Frank found an ideal camping place in + a grove of walnut trees beside a small creek. + </p> + <p> + “I camped here once two years ago and there’s a fine spring + somewhere near. Come along, Katie, we’ll go hunt it. Ernest, picket + the horses–there’s oats under the back seat. And Sherm, if you’ll + just start a fire for the coffee.” + </p> + <p> + Marian and Alice spread the luncheon out on a long tablecloth laid over + the dust robes on the ground. Gertie and Chicken Little fed the little + grouse with some moistened bread crumbs, finding it difficult at first to + induce them to eat. But they would swallow, when the girls pried open + their tiny beaks and stuck a crumb inside. Captain Clarke showed them how, + and patiently helped them until each tiny craw was at least partly filled. + </p> + <p> + Marian and Alice watched him furtively. + </p> + <p> + “He is gentle as a woman,” Alice whispered, “and his + face lights up wonderfully when he smiles, though it is stern usually.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can see now why Jane is so fascinated. Do you know his smile + is very much like Sherm’s? See–no, just wait a minute. Now–watch + his upper lip–his mouth twists crooked exactly like Sherm’s. + Chicken Little spoke of his baby’s picture having the same smile.” + Marian dropped her <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_121"></a>121</span>eyes + hastily as the Captain chanced to turn in their direction. + </p> + <p> + “I imagine lots of people have that kind of a smile only we never + noticed them,” replied Alice. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I didn’t mean to suggest anything. Will you cut + the lemon cake?” + </p> + <p> + After the luncheon was eaten, the shady grove tempted them to linger on + with its woodsy coolness. The younger folk dragging the Captain, a willing + victim, along with them, went off on an exploring expedition while the + others stretched out luxuriously on the coarse grass that grew rank along + the slope. + </p> + <p> + It was four o’clock before they could tear themselves away for the + homeward ride. + </p> + <p> + “You’d better hurry,” Frank called to the stragglers, + “it will be almost dark before we get home even if we don’t + stop to shoot.” + </p> + <p> + They picked up a few quail on the divide soon after they started, but + their zest for the sport seemed to have waned. Chicken Little declined to + try any further. + </p> + <p> + “I know, it’s the baby grouse,” said Katy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Captain Clarke, “I think the baby grouse + have rather taken the zip out of it for all of us.” + </p> + <p> + The moon was just peeping above the tree tops as they crossed the home + ford. A huge grotesque shadow of the horses and wagon with its load, was + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_122"></a>122</span>reflected + upon the silvered surface of a deep pool just beyond the ripples where + they had stopped to let the horses drink. The blacks having satisfied + their thirst, began to dash the water about with their hoofs. + </p> + <p> + “They love it, don’t they?” Katy watched them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Captain thoughtfully, “I guess every + living thing enjoys this beautiful world of ours–when it is given + the chance.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0122.jpg" id="img016" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_7"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_123"></a>123</span> + <img src="images/p0123.jpg" id="img017" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + PIGS + </h2> + <p> + “Take a hand to a wooster? Take a hand to a wooster!” + </p> + <p> + Dick Harding was standing out in the road near the white cottage one + morning about two weeks after the hunting party, trying to decide whether + he would take a walk or a ride to settle his breakfast. He glanced down + into Jilly’s sober little face lifted to his appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “Take a hand to a wooster? Charmed, I’m sure. Point out the + rooster. But what has his rooster-ship done, and how can I make him keep + still long enough to lay hands on him, Jilly Dilly?” + </p> + <p> + Jilly clasped five fat fingers around two of his, smiled confidingly and + made her plea once more: “Take a hand to a wooster.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_124"></a>124</span>Dick looked + puzzled, but Jilly was pulling and he meekly followed her guidance. + “I haven’t the faintest idea what you are getting me into, + young lady, but go ahead, I’m at your service.” + </p> + <p> + Jilly pattered along not deigning to reply to his remarks. Jilly + considered words as something to be reserved for business purposes only. + </p> + <p> + She led him to the chicken yard, pressed her small face against the wire + netting that enclosed it, and contemplated the fowls ecstatically. Dick + contemplated also, trying to pick out the offending rooster. + </p> + <p> + “Which rooster, Jilly?” + </p> + <p> + But Jilly only smiled vaguely. “Feed a wooster,” she commanded + after another season of gazing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to be sure, but what would you suggest that I offer him? There + doesn’t seem to be anything edible round here.” + </p> + <p> + The chickens seconded Jilly’s suggestion, coming to the fence and + clucking excitedly. + </p> + <p> + Jilly looked pained at Dick’s indolence and, taking his hand, led + him over to a covered wooden box, which was found to contain shelled corn. + The chickens were duly fed, but Dick still puzzled over the unchastized + rooster until Marian enlightened him later. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to give you a key to Jilly’s dialect,” + Marian laughed–“she merely wanted you to go with her to see + the chickens.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_125"></a>125</span>Chicken + Little was enjoying her guests. Her resolve to help mother was carried out + only semi-occasionally when there were raspberries or currants to be + picked or peas to be shelled, under the grape arbor so they wouldn’t + be in Annie’s way in the kitchen. At first, Mrs. Morton had counted + on having the girls help with the breakfast dishes, but they developed + such a genius for disappearing immediately after breakfast that she gave + it up as more bother than it was worth. + </p> + <p> + They tramped and rode, and waded and splashed and finally swam, in the + bathing hole down at the creek, under Marian’s or Alice’s + supervision, till Katie and Gertie were brown and hearty. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Halford wouldn’t know Gertie–she’s fairly + made over,” Alice observed one morning. + </p> + <p> + Gertie was fast losing her timidity and had so much persistence in + learning to ride that she bade fair to have a more graceful seat in the + saddle than Jane herself. Sherm was deep in farm work and the girls saw + little either of him or of Ernest, except in the evenings and on Sundays. + Dick ran the reaper in the harvest field for Dr. Morton for three days, + but his zeal waned as the weather got hotter. + </p> + <p> + “This is my vacation and I don’t want to sweat my sweet self + entirely away ‘in little drops of water.’ Think how pained you’d + be, dearest,” he told Alice. + </p> + <p> + “I never dreamed there was so much farming to <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_126"></a>126</span>a ranch,” + Alice remarked to Dr. Morton one day. “I thought you attended to the + cattle—” + </p> + <p> + “And rode around in chaps and sombreros, looking picturesque, the + rest of the time,” interrupted Dick. “My precious wife is + disappointed because she hasn’t seen any cowboys cavorting about the + place shooting each other up or gambling with nice picturesque bags of + gold dust.” + </p> + <p> + “Dick Harding! I didn’t. But we’d hardly know there were + any cattle round if we didn’t go through the pasture occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “Our big pastures take them off our hands pretty well in summer, but + in winter they have to be fed and herded and looked after generally, don’t + they, Chicken Little? Humbug has played herd boy herself more than once. + You are thinking of the big cattle ranges in Colorado and Montana and + Wyoming, Alice. This country is cut up into farms and the ranges are gone. + And we have to raise our corn and wheat and rye, not to mention fruits and + vegetables. It’s a busy life, but I love its independence.” + </p> + <p> + A day or two after this conversation, Ernest came in late to dinner, + exclaiming: “Father, the white sow and all her thirteen pigs are + out.” + </p> + <p> + “The Dickens, have you any idea where she’s gone?” Dr. + Morton looked decidedly annoyed. “I told Jim Bart that pen wasn’t + strong enough to hold her–she’s the meanest animal on the + place.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_127"></a>127</span>“One of + the harvest hands said he thought he saw her down along the slough. I am + sorry for the porkers if she is–they aren’t a week old yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Go down right after dinner and see if you can see anything of her. + The old fool will lose them all in that marshy ground. And I don’t + see how we can spare a man to look after them. It looks like rain and that + wheat must be in the barns by night.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest came back from his search to report that the sow and one lone pig + had wandered back to the barnyard and Jim Bart had got them into the pen. + </p> + <p> + “One pig! You don’t mean she has lost the other twelve? That’s + costly business!” + </p> + <p> + “Looks that way. They’re such little fellows–I suppose + they’re squealing down there in the slough in that swamp grass–it’s + a regular jungle three or four feet high.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton studied a moment, perplexed. “Well, the grain is worth + more than the pigs. I guess they’ll have to go until evening and + then we’ll all go down and see how many we can find. They won’t + suffer greatly before night unless they find enough water to drown + themselves in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the poor piggies!” exclaimed Chicken Little. “Why, + they’ll be most starved and maybe the bull snakes might get them.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly think they could manage a pig. But I can’t help it, + unless you think you could rescue them, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_128"></a>128</span>daughter.” Dr. Morton said this last in + fun, but Chicken Little took it seriously. + </p> + <p> + “What could I put them in, Father?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you might take a small chicken coop,” replied her father + carelessly. The wagons coming from the barn were already rattling into the + road and he was in a hurry to catch one and save himself the hot walk to + the fields. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was thinking. She sat twisting a corner of her apron into a + tight roll. “I believe we could do it,” she said presently, + “and the bull snakes are perfectly harmless if they are big, + ugly-looking things. Will you help me, Katie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh, are there really snakes there, Jane?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but we’ve never seen any poisonous ones along there, + though I saw a water moccasin once right down by the spring, so you never + can tell. But snakes sound a lot worse than they really are, ’cause + they’re such cowards they always run.” + </p> + <p> + Katy considered. The task did not sound attractive, but Katy was plucky. + “I guess, if you can do it, I can.” + </p> + <p> + Jane had not thought of asking Gertie and she was surprised to hear her + say: “I’m coming, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Gertie, won’t you be afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m afraid, but I don’t want the little piggies + killed–just think how you’d feel if you were lost in such a + dreadful place and there were snakes <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_129"></a>129</span>and awful things. If I see a snake I’ll + yell bloody murder, and I guess it’ll let me alone.” + </p> + <p> + Jane threw herself on Gertie and hugged her. “Gertie Halford, I + think you’d make a real, sure enough book heroine, because you do + things when you think you ought to, whether you’re scared or not.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish Dick hadn’t gone to town to-day,” said Katy. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had her campaign already planned. “I’m going to + get Ernest’s and Frank’s and Sherm’s rubber boots for + us. They’ll be lots too big, but we can tie them around the legs to + make them stick on. They will be fine in the mud and water if we have to + wade in the slough. Yes, and they will protect us from the snakes, too. We + won’t put them on till we get down there; they will be too hard to + walk in. And we can take Jilly’s red wagon and put the smallest + chicken coop on it. It isn’t heavy.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had gone to town with Dick and Alice for the day or the girls + would probably not have been permitted to carry out their unusual + undertaking. They quickly made their preparations with much joking about + the boots, and twenty minutes later came to the banks of the slough. The + slough was in reality a continuation of the spring stream, which spread + out in the meadows below the pond until it lost all semblance of a stream + and became <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_130"></a>130</span>merely + a marshy stretch, whose waters finally found their way into the creek. In + the meadows adjoining, the finest hay on the place was cut each year. + </p> + <p> + The girls sat down on the grass and fastened on the boots. The effect was + somewhat startling, for they reached well above the knee on Chicken + Little, who was the tallest of the three, while poor Gertie seemed to be + divided into two equal parts. + </p> + <p> + Both Katy and Jane giggled when she got laboriously to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “There’s more boots than girl, Gertie,” laughed Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t need to be afraid, Sis, you’ll scare + anything, even a snake!” Katy remarked unfeelingly, though her words + reassured Gertie wonderfully. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t feel so afraid in these,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was slowly making her way in to the slough. “Jim + found the mother pig near here, Ernest said, but the little scamps may be + most anywhere. Let’s listen and see if we can hear any squeals or + grunts.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did–I’m most sure, but it didn’t sound + very close by,” Gertie answered. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little listened. “Which way did the sound come from?” + </p> + <p> + “Toward the creek, but I don’t hear it any more.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0130-insert.jpg" id="img018" alt="" /> + <p class="center caption"> + They had a pretty chase. + </p> + </div> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_131"></a>131</span>“We’d + better search pretty carefully as we go along so we won’t have to + come back over the same ground,” remarked Katy, who had a genius for + organizing–even a pig hunt. “You are the tallest, Jane, so you + take the tallest grass next the water, and I’ll come along half way + up the bank and Gertie can walk through the meadow grass–that way we + can’t miss them.” + </p> + <p> + “No, for they must be on this side of the slough: they’re too + little to wade across it.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little made the first find, two discouraged little porkers, + hopelessly mired and grunting feebly when disturbed. They had no trouble + in catching these, but holding their wet, miry little bodies was a + different matter. They were slippery as eels. Chicken Little and Katy, who + each had one, found them a handful. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mine most got away! And I’m all over mud–we’ll + be a sight!” Katy giggled hysterically. “I wonder what mother + would think if she could see me now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it will all wash off. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t + so hard to clump along in these old boots. It takes forever to get any + place.” + </p> + <p> + They had sent Gertie on ahead to open the coop door. With a sigh of + relief, Katy shoved hers into it. Jane was not so lucky. Instead of going + in, as a well-regulated pig should, the small, black-and-white sinner shot + off to one side and made for the slough again. They had a pretty chase + before he <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_132"></a>132</span>finally + tangled himself up in the grass and was captured once more. + </p> + <p> + They plodded back to take up the search where they had left off, going + through the shorter grass till they should reach the point where they had + found the pigs. They were clumping along, chattering gaily, when Katy + jumped and let out a yell that could have been heard a block away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there’s the biggest snake I ever saw–over there + near that rock–don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + Gertie turned white, but Chicken Little encouraged her by starting toward + the monster, which was indeed a huge bull snake fully five feet long, as + Ernest and Sherm found by actual measurement that evening. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh,” said Chicken Little, “it looks dreadful, but it + won’t hurt you. If I can find some stones I’m going to try to + kill it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you dare go near it.” Katy grabbed her dress and + held on tight. + </p> + <p> + “But we’ll all be scared to death all the time, for fear we + come across it again, if I don’t. There are some rocks over there + big enough, if I can get them out of the ground.” + </p> + <p> + She went resolutely over and, prying with a stick, secured two good-sized + rocks. Armed with these, she started toward the snake coiled up asleep in + the hot July sunshine. Katy and Gertie watched her <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_133"></a>133</span>breathlessly. + Chicken Little advanced with caution. She didn’t like the job + herself, though she was sure the snake wouldn’t do anything worse + than run. She had seen her elders kill them more than once, and they had + always been cowardly. Nevertheless, her heart thumped and her breath came + fast, as she crept nearer. She must go close and aim at the head if she + hoped to do any execution. Step by step she crept forward till she was + within four feet of that ugly coil. Stopping, she raised the heavy stone + and took careful aim. At this instant her presence disturbed the snake. It + raised its oval head, fixing her with its beady, bright eyes. A thrill of + horror shot through her. What if it should fascinate her so she couldn’t + move? She had heard of such things. She heaved the stone, shutting her + eyes tight as it left her hand. + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie both screamed and jumped back. Jane opened her eyes + quickly to see the snake uncoil and start to glide away. She saw something + else, too. She saw that her stone had wounded it just behind the head. Her + courage flowed back in a trice. She raised the other stone and moved + forward. The snake was slipping over the ground at a swift pace. She had + to run, catching up with it as it came to its hole, a few feet distant. + She smashed down the second rock almost in the same place she had hit + before. The reptile moved feebly about six inches <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_134"></a>134</span>farther till its + ugly head was hidden inside the hole, then thrashed its heavy body through + another undulation, and lay still. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little stood looking at it in dazed surprise for several seconds. + She was white and trembling with excitement. Seeing that it did not move, + Katy and Gertie crept a little closer. No one said a word for a full + minute, then Chicken Little came to life, her face convulsed with + loathing. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh, the nasty thing–I hate them. I don’t see what God + wanted to make such horrid, wicked things for!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the Bible says they weren’t wicked till Eve ate the + apple,” Katy replied, staring curiously down at the snake. She had + never seen such a big one outside of a circus. “But I think they + must have always looked wicked, anyhow. How did you ever dare, Chicken + Little, to tackle it? I was expecting it to wind right round you like that + picture of Laocoon in our mythology.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t have dared if I hadn’t seen so many of them + before. I guess being brave is mostly being used to things. But I hate + snakes worse than anything in the world–I don’t feel a bit + sorry about killing them!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear,” said Gertie, shuddering, “I s’pose we + have got to find the rest of the pigs.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_135"></a>135</span>Katy and + Chicken Little each echoed the sigh. They all started ahead resolutely. + But they kept closer together for a time. They went some little distance + without finding any further signs of the lost animals. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t suppose we could have passed them, do you?” + Katy inquired anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “We couldn’t, if they are on this side of the slough.” + </p> + <p> + A few rods farther on something moved in the swamp grass. All three jumped + and screamed: their nerve had been sadly weakened by the bull snake. + </p> + <p> + A squeal and chorus of grunts reassured them. + </p> + <p> + “Here they are–a lot of them. Oh, dear, I wish we’d + brought the coop along so we wouldn’t have to go back.” Jane + parted the tall grass and discovered five of the fugitives huddled + together. They were much livelier than the first ones and showed symptoms + of bolting if the girls approached nearer. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go back for it,” said Katy. “I’ll go + through the short grass and I won’t be afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little and Gertie watched and waited. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t that little white one with the pink ears and curly tail + cunning? I didn’t suppose pigs could be so pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “They are only pretty when they are weenties. As soon as they grow + old enough to root in the mud, they are horrid.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_136"></a>136</span>When Katy + returned they anchored the red wagon with the chicken coop and the two + captured piglets as close to the slough as possible. All three crept upon + the pig cache cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Pick out which one you’ll grab, for they are going to run + sure,” Chicken Little admonished. + </p> + <p> + They made a dash and each got a pig, but, alas, the two free ones made a + dash also–a break for liberty worthy of an Indian. They selected + routes immediately in front of, and immediately behind Chicken Little, + whose attention was absorbed with trying to hold a squealing, squirming + pig. The result was disastrous to all concerned. Pig No. 1 tripped her up + neatly and she sat down hastily and unexpectedly upon Pig No. 2, who gave + one agonized squeal, in which the pig in her arms joined. Fortunately, her + victim did not get her whole weight or there would have been one pig the + less in this vale of tears. Chicken Little squashed him down gently into + some two inches of oozy mud and water. It splashed in all directions, + baptizing Katy and Gertie and the fleeing pig as well as completing the + ruin of Jane’s pink gingham frock, fresh that morning. + </p> + <p> + The sight of her amazed and disgusted face generously decorated with mud, + was too much for Katy. She giggled till the tears stood in her eyes. + Chicken Little was indignant. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_137"></a>137</span>“I + guess you wouldn’t think it was so funny, if it was you,” she + replied with dignity. Dignity did not become her tout ensemble. Katy went + off into fresh screams of mirth. Chicken Little had stood about all she + could that afternoon. Her face flamed with wrath, and, gathering up the + struggling pig in her arms, she hurled it at Katy, as the only missile + within reach. Piggy just missed Katy’s head, tumbling harmlessly + into the ooze. Chicken Little was instantly remorseful, not on Katy’s + account but on Piggy’s. + </p> + <p> + Katy was furious. She didn’t say a word, but walked deliberately + over to the coop, deposited her pig very gently and started toward the + house. + </p> + <p> + Gertie tried to stop her, but she shook her off. Chicken Little, too angry + to care what happened, relieved herself of the rest of her ill-temper. + </p> + <p> + “Go off and be hateful if you want to–a lot I care, Miss Katy + Halford. I should think you’d be ashamed to act so when you are most + fifteen.” + </p> + <p> + A swift retort rose to Katy’s lips, but she decided it would be more + impressive to remain dignifiedly silent. She stalked on. Gertie hesitated + as to which of the belligerents she should follow, but finally decided in + favor of the one who needed her worst. She put her pig in the coop and + came to help Jane up. The latter was already ashamed of her outburst, + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_138"></a>138</span>but was far + from being ready to acknowledge it. The other three pigs had not gone far + and they soon had them safely in the coop. They were debating as to + whether they should give up hunting for the others, when a hail from the + road brought aid and comfort. Katy had met Dr. Morton coming from the + field on an errand and had told him what they were trying to do. He was + delighted and surprised to see the seven rescued pigs. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Chicken Little, I didn’t really suppose you were in + earnest or—” Dr. Morton stopped suddenly, he had just taken a + good look at his only daughter–the look was effective. He threw back + his head and roared. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you could just see yourself, Jane!” + </p> + <p> + This was adding insult to injury and Chicken Little burst into tears. + “You can just hunt your old pigs yourself–I don’t think + it’s nice of you to laugh when I tried so hard!” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, I beg your pardon, but you are enough to make an owl + laugh, Humbug. It was fine of you to try to rescue the pigs. You girls + deserve a great deal of credit, for it is a disagreeable, muddy job. I + guess I’ll have to make it up to you. I’ll tell you what I’ll + do. You may have this litter for your very own, and we’ll send the + little girls their share over the cost of keeping, when the pigs are sold. + How will that do?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_139"></a>139</span>Chicken + Little was not in the mood to be easily appeased. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you say things are mine till you want to sell them, and + then I never see the money.” + </p> + <p> + This was touching a sore point. The Doctor had been a little remiss on the + subject of the children’s ownership of their pets. He was nettled by + this accusation. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, when I say a thing I mean it. I was about to add, though, + that if I give you the entire proceeds of the pigs I shall expect you to + attend to feeding them until they are big enough to be turned in with the + drove.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the mother fed them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the mother pig has to be fed.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really, truly, mean it, Father?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little forgot the late unpleasantness. “Oh, goody, let’s + call Katy back and tell her!” + </p> + <p> + Katy was not so far away as might have been anticipated. Her wrath was + dissipating also. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton lingered to help them a few moments and to satisfy himself that + they could not do themselves any damage that a bath and the wash tub could + not repair, then left them once more to their own resources. + </p> + <p> + By four o’clock they had all but one of the missing pigs safely + stowed in the coop. They were very <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_140"></a>140</span>tired and hot, and decided to save the joy of + hunting for the last pig for Ernest and Sherm in the evening. + </p> + <p> + It was well they did. The wee stray would have led them a chase. He had + found his way almost to the creek, and it took the boys a good hour of + wading and beating the swamp grass to discover him. + </p> + <p> + Just as Chicken Little was dropping off to sleep that night, Katy roused + her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose we’ll get as much as five dollars apiece from + those pigs?” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0140.jpg" id="img019" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_8"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_141"></a>141</span> + <img src="images/p0141.jpg" id="img020" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + A PARTY AND A PICNIC + </h2> + <p> + Gertie looked wistful. Dick and Alice were going on to Denver that morning + to return a month later for the little girls. All three were to drive into + town with Dr. Morton to see them off. The mere thought of anyone going + away made Gertie a little homesick. She went out to the chicken yard, + where nine of the young prairie chickens were flourishing under the care + of a much-deceived hen, who had adopted them with the mistaken notion that + they were her own egg kin. The little mottled things seemed very much out + of place among the domestic fowls. They were wild and shy and + astonishingly fleet on their reed-like legs. Gertie loved to watch them. + Two of the chicks had died the first night, and one, two days later. But + the rest survived, and, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_142"></a>142</span>in + the course of time, flew away to join their wild mates. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, I wonder what we can do next?” said Chicken Little, + as they watched the train pull out with Dick waving from the rear + platform. + </p> + <p> + Dick’s and Alice’s going seemed to have finished things, at + least for the time being. Her question was answered as soon as she got + home. + </p> + <p> + “Jane,” said her mother, “I have just received an + invitation for you and the girls that I am a little doubtful about. Ernest + and Sherm are invited, too, but not to remain for the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay all night? Where, Mother, where?” + </p> + <p> + “With Mamie Jenkins. The Jenkins family are hardly as refined as I + could wish for your associates; still they are good religious people, if + they are plain, and Katy and Gertie might enjoy going to a country party.” + </p> + <p> + “A party? O Mother, please let us go.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind so much your coming to the party, but they want + to have you stay overnight and attend a picnic some of the young people + are getting up for the next afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + Katy was as eager as Jane for the festivity and Mrs. Morton was at length + persuaded to pocket her scruples and permit the girls to accept Mamie’s + invitation. Ernest and Sherm were also delighted at the prospect of a + frolic. They were to take the <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_143"></a>143</span>girls over and leave them for the night, + returning the next afternoon for the picnic, which was to start from the + Jenkin’s farm. + </p> + <p> + But when the day of the party arrived, Gertie backed out, begging to be + left at home with Mrs. Morton. The thought of meeting so many strangers + frightened her. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if she would enjoy it. She would be the youngest one there–most + of them will be from fourteen to twenty. The neighbors live so far apart, + they have to combine different ages in order to find guests enough for a + party.” + </p> + <p> + At first, Chicken Little would not hear to Gertie’s remaining + behind, but finding that she would really be happier at home, stopped + urging her. Jane and Katy were soon joyfully planning what they should + wear. They were to go in their party frocks, each taking another dress + along for the morning and the picnic. Jane was to wear Alice’s gift. + Katy had a dainty ruffled muslin with cherry-colored sash and hair + ribbons. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid I wasn’t going to have a single chance to wear + it here,” she remarked naïvely. + </p> + <p> + The boys were busy shining their shoes, and performing certain mysteries + of shaving with very little perceptible change in their appearance. Ernest + felt that he could not possibly go without a new necktie, but as no one + was going to town before the event, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_144"></a>144</span>he had to content himself with borrowing one + from Frank. + </p> + <p> + It took the combined efforts of Marian and Gertie and Mrs. Morton to get + the revellers dressed to their satisfaction. Gertie waited on the two + girls as patiently as any maid. Marian was in great demand by the boys to + coax in refractory cuff buttons and give a “tony” twist to the + ties. + </p> + <p> + “Is tony the very latest, Ernest?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what Sherm says. Just make the bow a little more + perky, can’t you, Marian? I don’t want to look like a country + Jake.” + </p> + <p> + “Ernest, you are just the boy to go to Annapolis; you are so fussy + about your clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Golly, I hope I do get to go. Father hasn’t heard from the + Senator yet, but he may be away from home.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm was struggling with his tie, getting red and hot in the process. He + had just tied it nearly to his satisfaction, when he carelessly gave it a + jerk and had it all to do over again. + </p> + <p> + “Cæsar’s Ghost!” he exclaimed vengefully, “what do + they make these things so pesky slippery for?” + </p> + <p> + Marian laughed and Sherm colored in embarrassment over his outburst. + </p> + <p> + “Please excuse me, but this is the fifth time I’ve tied the + critter.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_145"></a>145</span>“Let me + try.” Marian turned him to the light and had the bow nicely exact in + no time. + </p> + <p> + The girls found their source of woe in their hair. Katy, having learned + that most of the young people would be older than themselves, decided to + put her hair up, and look grown up, too. Mrs. Morton was horrified and + made Katy take it down. Katy, though rebellious, dared not oppose her + hostess openly. She contented herself with taking a handful of hair pins + along and putting it up after she reached Mamie’s. To be sure the + heavy braids piled upon her small head looked rather queer, especially + with her short skirts, which she could not contrive to lengthen. But Katy + made up for this defect by an unwonted dignity, and actually persuaded a + majority of the people she met that she was sixteen at the very least. + </p> + <p> + Country folk gather early and they found the fun well started when they + arrived. The Jenkins family had come to the neighborhood about a year + before from Iowa. + </p> + <p> + The farmhouse was new and rather more pretentious than most on the creek. + Lace curtains with robust patterns draped the windows in fresh-starched + folds. A green and red ingrain carpet covered the floor, while the entire + Jenkins family–there were four olive branches–done in crayon + by a local photographer, adorned the walls. It would be more <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_146"></a>146</span>truthful to say, + adorned three walls. The fourth was sacred to a real oil painting in an + unlimited gilt frame, which had come as a prize for extra subscriptions to + the St. Louis <i>Globe-Democrat</i>. Mrs. Jenkins regarded this treasure + almost with reverence. “I do think it is real uplifting to have a + work of art in the house, don’t you, Mrs. Brown?” she had been + heard to remark to a neighbor who failed to notice this gem. The family + bible and a red plush photograph album rested on the marble-topped table, + usually placed in the exact center of the room. To-night, it was pushed + back against the wall to make more room for the games. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were rigid Methodists and would not tolerate any such + worldly amusement as dancing. Kissing games were substituted, and if, as + the Jenkins believed, these were more elevating, they were certainly + coarser and rougher than the dancing would have been. + </p> + <p> + Mamie had attended the Garland High School for one year and had acquired + different ideas. She would have much preferred the dancing, but her + parents were firm. Mamie deemed herself a full-fledged young lady at + fifteen. Her highest ambitions were to have “style” and plenty + of beaux. + </p> + <p> + Ernest and Sherm had to find a place to tie the horses. They lingered also + a moment at the pump to wash the leathery smell of the harness from their + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_147"></a>147</span>hands–a + fastidious touch that would have subjected them to much guying if the + other boys had seen them. + </p> + <p> + So Chicken Little led Katy into the crowded room, unsupported. There was + no hall or entry and they were plunged directly into the thick of the + party. Many of the country lads and lasses were her mates at the district + school and greeted her cordially, eyeing Katy, however, with frankly + curious stares. Mrs. Jenkins relieved her embarrassment by taking them + upstairs to remove their wraps. She introduced herself to Katy before Jane + could get out the little speech of presentation her mother had urged her + not to forget, since Katy, being a stranger, should be made to feel at + home as quickly as possible. Chicken Little hated introducing people and + had been dreading the ordeal, but kindly Mrs. Jenkins took Katy by the + hand and presented her to the whole roomful at one fell swoop. + </p> + <p> + “This is Miss Katy Halford, young folks, and I want you all to + introduce yourselves and see that she has a good time or she’ll + think you are a lot of green country jays who haven’t any manners.” + </p> + <p> + “King William was King James’s son” was in full swing. + The young folks made places for the two girls in the ring and promptly + drew in Ernest and Sherm as soon as they entered. The lilting tune was + sung lustily while the supposed victim in the center, <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_148"></a>148</span>a handsome lad of + sixteen with bold, black eyes and dark curls, surveyed the girls, big and + little, with an evident enjoyment of his privileges. + </p> + <p> + Several of the older boys interrupted their singing to give him advice. + </p> + <p> + “Take the city girl, Grant, buck up and show your manners.” + “Bet you knew who you’d choose before you left home.” + “Don’t let on that you don’t know which girl you want–Mamie’s + biting her lips already to wash off that kiss.” + </p> + <p> + The boy returned or ignored this badinage as he saw fit. + </p> + <p> + Mamie, however, was indignantly protesting that he needn’t try to + kiss her. Grant looked in her direction and smiled as the fateful instant + arrived. Indeed, he started toward her, then mischievously whirled around + and seizing Chicken Little, who was whispering to Katy that Grant was + Mamie’s beau, kissed her with a resounding smack. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was taken so unawares that she had time neither to blush + nor to protest or struggle, as was considered etiquette on such occasions. + She didn’t even try to rub it off, as was also customary. She just + looked at him with such a funny mixture of surprise and dismay that + everybody roared, including Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins and some of the older + neighbors who had come in to see the fun. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Chicken Little, you need practice,” and <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_149"></a>149</span>“Chicken + Little acts as if she didn’t know what kisses were. You’ll + have to have a rehearsal beforehand next time, Grant!” “Why, + Grant? What’s the matter with the rest of us?” These comments + were open and noisy. + </p> + <p> + Ernest took all this coarse bantering at his young sister’s expense + good-naturedly. He knew no offence was intended. He had been present at a + number of these rural frolics. But Sherm, town-bred and unaccustomed to + this form of amusement, was distinctly displeased both at the kiss and the + talk. He got Chicken Little off to one side as soon as he could. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Chicken Little, don’t let the boys kiss you.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked concerned. “I don’t like them to, Sherm, + but I can’t help it if I play–and they’d think I was + awfully stuck up and rude if I refused.” + </p> + <p> + “Does your mother know they have this sort of games?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little made a little grimace. “Don’t go and be + grown-up and horrid, Sherm. Everybody does it here. They’ll stop + this pretty soon and play clap in and clap out or forfeits.” + </p> + <p> + Her big brown eyes were lifted so innocently and sweetly that Sherm couldn’t + say any more, but he felt a curious desire to fight every time a big boy + so much as stared at Jane. + </p> + <p> + “She’s such a kid!” he explained the feeling to <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_150"></a>150</span>himself, “and + Ernest isn’t looking after her at all.” + </p> + <p> + Katy entered into the romping heart and soul. Katy was playing young lady. + Her pink cheeks and laughing eyes and little flirtatious ways were very + popular with the boys–so popular that Mamie was vexed because many + of her mates seemed to have eyes only for the city girl, as she called her + behind her back. + </p> + <p> + Mamie eased her mind by treating her special friends haughtily. She got + even with the recreant Grant by choosing Ernest the very first time in + Post Office. She even put some of the girls up to boycotting the boys who + were hanging round Katy, for one entire game, persuading them to choose + Ernest and Sherm alternately till the others were jealously wrathful + without being quite sure whether it was accident or conspiracy. + Considering his scruples about kissing, Sherm submitted most meekly. He + had the grace to color when Chicken Little remarked carelessly: “It + wasn’t so bad as you thought it would be, was it, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s different with boys,” he retorted loftily. + “Little girls like you don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Little girls! I suppose you think yourself a man grown. You needn’t + feel so big because you’re most seventeen. I heard Dick say a boy of + seventeen wasn’t really any older than a girl of fifteen, because + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_151"></a>151</span>girls grow up + quicker. So there, you’re not much more than a year older than I am!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm’s “little girl” rankled not only that evening but + for weeks afterwards. She told Katy and Mamie in strict confidence after + they had gone upstairs that night. + </p> + <p> + “I’d show him if I were you, Jane,” advised Mamie the + experienced. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little needed no urging, but she was in doubt how to proceed. + </p> + <p> + “My, I wish I was awfully beautiful and grown up. I’d make him + fall so many billions deep in love with me he couldn’t squeak.” + Jane felt positively vindictive whenever she thought of Sherm’s + patronizing tone. She had neglected to mention to the girls the little + conversation that had preceded her remark to Sherm. She didn’t + consider it necessary to tell everything she knew. + </p> + <p> + Mamie tittered. “Pooh, you sound as if you had been reading Sir + Walter Scott. They don’t do things that way nowadays. When I was in + town last winter at school I had lots of boys gone on me, and I’m + not a raving, tearing beauty either.” + </p> + <p> + Mamie looked as if she expected her guests to contradict her, but they + were too much impressed with her conquests to do anything so rude. A + little disappointed, but finding their absorbed expressions encouraging, + Mamie preceded to retail her adventures. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_152"></a>152</span>Boiled down, these were mainly a box of candy + and various walks taken at recesses and noons, with an occasional escort + to a party. They were sufficiently thrilling to the others, who had never + been permitted even such mild forms of dissipation. + </p> + <p> + “My, wouldn’t I catch it if Papa ever caught me walking with a + boy!” + </p> + <p> + Katy painted the paternal wrath with a real relish. It seemed to furnish + an adequate excuse for her having nothing to relate and put her on a + little pinnacle of superior breeding as well. Her parents looked after + her. It was only more ordinary people who permitted their daughters to run + about at fifteen. + </p> + <p> + Mamie was keen enough to realize this and she promptly resented Katy’s + patronizing tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Pa would have been mad, too, if he had known. But I was staying + with my aunt. She didn’t care what I did, just so I was on time to + meals and didn’t run around after dark.” + </p> + <p> + Katy was determined to keep up her end. “We used to have wonderful + times at the church oyster suppers. One night last winter Dr. Wade–you + don’t remember him, Chicken Little, he’s only been in + Centerville about a year. Well, he took me in for oysters and bought me + candy and three turns at the grab bag. And he is a grown-up man–he’s + been a doctor for over two years.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_153"></a>153</span>Katy would + hardly have told this story if Gertie had been there. She neglected to + mention that Dr. Wade had kindly included Gertie and five other young + girls in these courtesies. Or that he had remarked to Mrs. Halford that he + loved to be with children because he missed his own brothers and sisters + sadly. But Gertie was not present to mar the effect of this story with + further particulars. Mamie began to rack her brain for forgotten + attentions worthy to be classed with this superb generosity. Poor Chicken + Little was hopelessly out-classed. Nothing more thrilling than being + singled out in games and Blackman at school had happened to her. + </p> + <p> + “Grant Stowe said you had the prettiest eyes of any girl here + to-night. I heard him tell Jennie Brown so when she asked him whether he + liked blue eyes or brown best. She is the awfulest thing–always + fishing for compliments.” + </p> + <p> + This was generous of Mamie, for Grant was the one who had passed her by so + recently. But Katy’s eyes were also distanced and Mamie had been + very much thrilled by hearing that Ernest might go to Annapolis. Further, + he had chosen her twice that evening. She felt amiably disposed toward + Ernest’s sister. + </p> + <p> + When the tales of past glories were exhausted, the conversation grew + intermittent, being punctuated by frequent yawns. They were just on the + point of <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_154"></a>154</span>dropping + off to sleep when Mamie suddenly opened her eyes and sat up in bed with a + jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Music! Don’t you hear it? I shouldn’t wonder if some of + the boys were out serenading. Oh, I do hope they’ll come here.” + </p> + <p> + Katy and Chicken Little listened breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “It is!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and it’s coming nearer.” + </p> + <p> + All three hopped out of bed and crouched down by the window. The moon was + setting, but there was still a faint radiance. The strains were growing + more distinct. + </p> + <p> + “I bet it’s Grant Stowe and his two cousins from the Prairie + Hill district. They are staying all night with him and are going to the + picnic to-morrow. Don’t you remember that red-headed boy?” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds like a banjo and guitar,” said Katy. “Oh, I + do love a guitar. It always makes me think of ‘Gaily the troubadour.’” + Katy gave a wriggle of delight at this romantic ending to the night’s + festivities. She was already planning to tell the girls at home about the + wonderful serenade. + </p> + <p> + The tinkle tinkle of the thin notes grew stronger and clearer and they + found that a third instrument, which had puzzled them, was a mouth organ. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t suppose anybody could really make music with a mouth + organ, but it goes nicely with the others.” Chicken Little, like + Katy, was more excited <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_155"></a>155</span>over + the serenade than the party. It seemed so delightfully young ladyfied. + </p> + <p> + The trio had one awful moment, for the music seemed to be dying away and + still there was no human in sight. Suddenly it stopped altogether. They + listened and waited–not a sound rewarded them. + </p> + <p> + “I think it’s downright mean if they’ve gone by.” + Mamie’s tone was more than injured. + </p> + <p> + The words were hardly out of her mouth when a stealthy foot-fall came + directly beneath their window, and guitar, mandolin, and mouth organ burst + forth into “My Bonnie,” supported after the opening strains by + half a dozen boyish voices. + </p> + <p> + The boys had crept in so close to the wall of the house that the girls had + not discovered them. The young ladies ducked at the first sound, and + hastily slipped their dresses over their night gowns so they could look + out again. + </p> + <p> + “O dear,” said Mamie, “I almost forgot my curl papers.” + </p> + <p> + They were arrayed in time to reward the serenaders with a vigorous + clapping of hands, Father and Mother Jenkins joining in from the window of + their bedroom downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” floated up next, followed by + “Over the Garden Wall,” which, if not <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_156"></a>156</span>choice, had the + distinction of being sung in New York, as Grant Stowe proudly informed + them. + </p> + <p> + It was three o’clock past, before they finally settled down in bed + once more. Faint suggestions of dawn were already apparent. + </p> + <p> + “It’s not much use to go to bed, Father always gets up at six,” + mourned Mamie. + </p> + <p> + A brilliant idea struck Katy. “Suppose we stay up all night. Grace + Dart said she did once when her father was so sick, and she said it was + the most wonderful thing to see the sun rise when you hadn’t been to + bed at all.” + </p> + <p> + This proposal met with instant favor. They clambered out of bed and lit + the small oil lamp, wrapping themselves in quilts and petticoats + impartially, for the air was growing chilly. The next three hours were the + longest any of the three had ever known. In spite of fortune telling, and + a thrilling story which Mamie read in tragic whispers, the minutes + shuffled along like hours. Yawns interrupted almost every sentence and + much mutual prodding and sharp reproaches were necessary to keep their + heavy eyes open. They were too sleepy to care whether the sun rose in the + usual sedate way or pirouetted up chasing a star. In fact, they forgot all + about the expected sunrise. They wanted just two things–sleep and + something to eat. + </p> + <p> + The call to breakfast was even sweeter than the <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_157"></a>157</span>serenade had been. + Father and Mother Jenkins were concerned at their jaded appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Seems like parties don’t agree with you young ones none too + well. I reckon we won’t have them very often,” Father Jenkins + remarked tartly. His own eyes smarted from loss of sleep. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe you ought to go to the picnic this afternoon + if you are feeling so played out,” Mother Jenkins added. “Your + Ma will think I haven’t taken good care of you. It was them + good-for-nothing boys a-coming that wore you plumb out.” + </p> + <p> + Generous cups of strong coffee–a luxury not permitted to either + Chicken Little or Katy at home–woke them up and they got through the + morning nicely. Not for worlds would they have missed that picnic. + </p> + <p> + But even the coffee could not carry them through the afternoon. They were + the butts of the entire party on account of their dullness and heavy eyes. + </p> + <p> + Ernest expressed his disgust with his sister openly. “Well, I think + Mother’d better keep you at home till you’re old enough not to + be such a baby.” Jane had been nodding in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + “Looks to me as if you girls had stayed up all night!” + exclaimed Grant Stowe. + </p> + <p> + Mamie roused enough to retort: “Well, I guess you didn’t get + any too much sleep yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “We can keep awake if we didn’t. But if it has <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_158"></a>158</span>this kind of effect + on you, we’ll leave you out the next time we go serenading.” + </p> + <p> + It had been arranged that they should catch fish for the picnic supper. + The girls had brought a huge frying pan and the butter and corn meal to + cook them in. As soon as the teams were cared for, the boys got out + fishing tackle and bait and the party broke up into small groups for the + fishing. Grant Stowe offered to help Chicken Little with her line. She + found this courtesy on his part embarrassing, for Katy and Mamie exchanged + looks, and she was so utterly sleepy, that she would have preferred Ernest + or Sherm so she wouldn’t be expected to talk. Chicken Little had + gone to school with Grant the preceding winter. He was always a leader in + their school games and a great favorite. + </p> + <p> + Grant found a snug place beside a deep pool that promised catfish at the + very least, and might be expected to yield a few trout. He made her + comfortable on the spreading roots of an elm growing upward with + difficulty from a steep bank. Grant smiled at her as he handed her the rod + and tossed the baited hook into the stillest part of the pool. + </p> + <p> + “There, you ought to get a bite soon. This is one of the best places + on the creek for catfish. Say, what did you girls do to yourselves that + you are so used up to-day? You didn’t take a five-mile walk or + anything after we left, did you?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_159"></a>159</span>Jane laughed. + “Don’t you wish you knew?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ll find out, but I wish you’d tell me.” + Grant looked at her from under his long black lashes. His tone was + distinctly wheedling. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little laughed again and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + Grant threw his own line in, seating himself a little lower down on the + bank; and quiet reigned for several minutes. + </p> + <p> + But the boy was determined to get the secret from her. After a tedious + silence, he began in a low tone so that he would not disturb the fish: + “You know, Chicken Little, I always did think you were the prettiest + girl in school, but you were such a kid you never took the trouble to look + at a fellow. Seems to me you might be nice now and tell me what you did.” + </p> + <p> + He neglected to mention the fact that he had bet Mamie a silk handkerchief + against a plate of taffy that he would find out what they had been up to + before night. He received no response. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now, be a trump and tell a fellow.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced around this time with a tenderly reproachful look. This + tenderness speedily vanished. Jane was peacefully asleep, her head + supported against the tree trunk. + </p> + <p> + The boy’s face flushed wrathfully for an instant, but he had a + saving sense of humor. “Serves me right for trying to get the best + of a kid, I guess,” he said to himself. He let her sleep on + undisturbed <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_160"></a>160</span>until + the sound of voices announced the approach of some of the others, when he + hastily wakened her. He did not intend to be laughed at for the rest of + the day. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little found it hard to wake up and was heavy-eyed and stupid the + remainder of the afternoon. Fortunately for her and Katy, Ernest had + orders from his mother to be home by dark. + </p> + <p> + Patient Gertie was waiting expectantly to hear about the good times, but + she could hardly extract three words from either of the revellers. Parties + and boys and finery were all stale, but their neatly made bed looked like + heaven. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0160.jpg" id="img021" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_9"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_161"></a>161</span> + <img src="images/p0161.jpg" id="img022" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + BREAD AND POLLIWOGS + </h2> + <p> + Three days elapsed before Katy and Jane could settle down to the quiet, + daily life of the ranch. If Gertie had found them disappointingly mute + that first evening, she never had to complain again. They went over and + over the thrilling events of the night and the picnic the next afternoon, + till Gertie got sick of hearing what “Mamie said” and how <i>he</i> + looked and how wonderful the serenade had been. Indeed, these events + seemed to grow in importance the farther off they were. Gertie was seldom + pettish, but Katy’s seventeenth repetition of what Grant Stowe’s + cousin said to her while they were fishing left her cold. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Katy, I’m sick of hearing about it. I don’t + care what he said and I just know he thought you were a silly little girl + trying to seem grown up <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_162"></a>162</span>when + you aren’t! You know Mother wouldn’t like you to act so, and I + guess Mrs. Morton’d be ashamed of you, too, if she knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertie Halford, if you dare tell!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I’m no tattle tale! I intend to forget all about + it as soon as ever I can. But I know Sherm thought you were silly from + something he said.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little related the most presentable of their doings to Marian. + Marian didn’t say much at the time, but some days afterwards she + told them tales of the adventures of her own early teens. She ended a + little meaningly: “Do you know, I believe girls can be sillier from + thirteen to sixteen than at any other age? They’re exactly like that + little buff cochin rooster you laugh at, because he tries to crow and + strut before he knows how. I hope you girls won’t be in a hurry to + grow up. There are so many nice things you can do now that you will have + to give up after a while.” + </p> + <p> + July was growing unpleasantly hot. The mornings were dewy and fresh, but + by noon they were glad to hunt a shady place. The apple orchard was a + favorite haunt, and the Weeping Willows when the wind was from the right + direction. They took books and crochetting, sometimes the checker board or + dominoes, and spent the long summer afternoons there, with Jilly tumbling + over their feet and Huz <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_163"></a>163</span>and + Buz dozing alongside or lazily snapping at the plaguing flies. + </p> + <p> + They had been picking blackberries mornings for Mrs. Morton’s + preserving. The rescued litter of pigs was also taking much time. The + mother pig had developed an appetite that was truly appalling. It seemed + to take endless gallon pails of sour milk and baskets of fruit parings to + satisfy her. Dr. Morton would not let them feed corn in summer. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” said Katy, “how big do little pigs have to be + before they can be turned into the corral with the others?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, six or eight weeks, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “They are getting awfully smelly!” remarked Gertie, holding + her nose, “and they aren’t a bit pretty any more.” + </p> + <p> + “I know and Father said last night we’d have to begin and feed + the pigs some, too, before long.” Chicken Little sighed. This + speculation in pigs had its unpleasant side. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we’d have to bring a lot more stuff if Ernest and + Sherm didn’t help us out. They give them things to eat lots of + times. But I think Jim Bart might keep the pen a little cleaner,” + Katy observed. + </p> + <p> + “He’s so busy he doesn’t have time.” + </p> + <p> + Another morning occupation was bread-making. Dr. Morton had offered a + brand new dollar to the <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_164"></a>164</span>girl + who would bring him the first perfect loaf of bread. They were taking + turns under Mrs. Morton’s teaching, but it did seem as if more + things could happen to bread. Katy would have had her perfect loaf, if she + hadn’t let the dough rise too long. The loaves were beautiful to + look at, but slightly sour, alas! Chicken Little spoiled her prize batch + by sitting down to read and letting it burn. + </p> + <p> + Gertie’s first and second were very good, but a trifle too solid. + Katy won out on her third, and produced a loaf so light and crisply brown + that Marian said she was envious. + </p> + <p> + The others wanted to stop when Katy secured the dollar, but Mrs. Morton + persuaded them to persist until they could equal Katy’s. + </p> + <p> + “You may send one to Captain Clarke, if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + This stimulated their waning interest and they tried to produce that + perfect loaf. A week went by before Mrs. Morton nodded approval, saying: + “Yes, that is nice enough for a present. I am sure the Captain will + like it.” + </p> + <p> + The girls had planned to take it over on the ponies, but Mrs. Morton + wanted to send over two gallons of blackberries also, which was more than + they could manage. + </p> + <p> + “I am sending Ernest and Sherm down the creek this evening on an + errand,” said Dr. Morton, “and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_165"></a>165</span>they can stop at Captain Clarke’s and + leave the things. You girls can go some other time.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little decided to send some of her spare pinks. She came in with a + great handful just as the boys were ready to start. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your loaf, Chicken Little?” asked her mother. + </p> + <p> + “O dear, I forgot to wrap it up. It won’t take a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Take one of the fringed napkins to wrap it in, then put paper + around that,” called her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you put the bread, Mother?” + </p> + <p> + “In the bread box, of course, child, where did you suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t anything but old bread in the box.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ask Annie.” + </p> + <p> + “She’s gone to Benton’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think you’re old enough to find four loaves of bread + in a small pantry.” Mrs. Morton got up, disgusted. + </p> + <p> + Sherm stood waiting with the tin pail of berries and the bunch of flowers + in his hands. Ernest was holding the team out at the road. + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Morton disappeared Sherm remarked placidly: “Well, I guess + I might as well take these things out. I’ll come back for the bread.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton could be heard exclaiming about <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_166"></a>166</span>something in the kitchen. Sherm smiled a + fleeting smile and departed. + </p> + <p> + Sounds of hurried footfalls, of boxes and pans being moved, came from the + kitchen. Somebody ran hastily down cellar. “It isn’t here, + Mother.” Jane’s tone was emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose is the matter?” exclaimed Katy. She + departed to see, followed by Gertie. The sound of fresh disturbances + floated in from the cuisine. Dr. Morton grew curious and went out to + investigate. Sherm came back as far as the front door and stood waiting. + </p> + <p> + Presently, Mrs. Morton entered, flushed and annoyed. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the queerest thing I ever heard of–that entire + baking of bread has vanished. Annie is perfectly honest and she knew we + were expecting to send a loaf to the Captain. You haven’t seen any + tramps about, have you, Sherm? You don’t suppose the dogs could—” + Mrs. Morton glanced suspiciously at Buz asleep on the path outside. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Mother, the dogs couldn’t get away with whole + loaves of bread and leave no trace. They are not overly fond of bread, + anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly Annie may have put it in some unheard-of place–girls + are so exasperating. I’ll go look again.” + </p> + <p> + A third search was no more successful than the <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_167"></a>167</span>previous ones had + been. They were obliged to send the boys on without the bread. + </p> + <p> + Both Chicken Little and Gertie mourned, for they had combined forces in + this baking and were immensely proud of their effort. + </p> + <p> + “We never can get it so nice again–I just know!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had been studying. “You don’t suppose the boys + could have meddled with it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Katy looked up with a gleam in her eye. “They were laughing about + something fit to kill just before supper and they wouldn’t tell what + it was.” + </p> + <p> + “But why–I don’t see.” Mrs. Morton was puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “To tease the girls, possibly. But I don’t see how they could + make away with four big loaves without being noticed.” + </p> + <p> + “If Ernest Morton took that bread, I’ll never forgive him as + long as I live!” Chicken Little’s jaw set ominously. “You + just watch me get even.” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, Chicken Little, we’re merely guessing the boys took + it. Annie may have put it away in a new place, forgetting that you would + want it to-night,” her father tried to pacify her. + </p> + <p> + Gertie didn’t say much, but it was plain that she sympathized with + Jane. An hour later the three girls went out to the road to watch for the + boys’ return. The lads were evidently taking their time. <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_168"></a>168</span>Nine o’clock + came–half-past nine–still no boys! Mrs. Morton came out and + sent the girls in to bed. They were just dropping off to sleep when the + lads drove up. + </p> + <p> + At breakfast the next morning the entire family fell upon Ernest and Sherm + and demanded news of the bread. Annie had returned and assured Mrs. Morton + that it had been safely stored in the bread box before she left the house + the evening before. + </p> + <p> + “Bread? What bread?” asked Ernest, rather too innocently. + </p> + <p> + “Ernest Morton, you did something with that bread I was going to + send the Captain. You have got to tell me where you hid it.” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little Jane Morton, I give you my word of honor I didn’t + touch your old bread and I don’t know where it is.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest assumed a highly injured air. Sherm took a hasty swallow of water + and nearly choked. + </p> + <p> + The family had come near believing Ernest, but Sherm’s convulsed + face roused their suspicion afresh. + </p> + <p> + “If you didn’t, you got Sherm to,” said Katy shrewdly. + “That’s what you were laughing about last night–I know + it was.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s like a girl always suspecting a fellow of being up to + some deviltry. Maybe you think we’ll keep on feeding your old pigs + if you treat us this way.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_169"></a>169</span>Dr. Morton + scanned the boys closely, but did not say anything. + </p> + <p> + Jane and Katy turned on Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Did you take the bread?” Chicken Little had fire in her eye. + </p> + <p> + Sherm tried guile. “Chicken Little, do I look hungry enough to steal + your bread? Mrs. Morton has been feeding me on good things ever since I + came, why should I want to make away with four loaves of bread?” + Sherm was almost eloquent. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” observed Katy, “you don’t deny + that you took it.” + </p> + <p> + Try as they would, they could get no satisfaction from the boys. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know they did and I’m going to make ’em wish + they hadn’t.” Chicken Little puckered up her brow to think + hard. + </p> + <p> + “Of course they did or Sherm would have denied it instanter. Let’s + think up something real mean.” Katy stood ready to second any + effort. + </p> + <p> + Gertie had been in a brown study. “The boys are going off some place + to-night. I heard Ernest ask your mother if she had cleaned that spot off + his Sunday suit, where somebody spilled ice cream on him at the party.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet they’re going to see Mamie Jenkins ... they’re + trying to sneak off without our knowing it.” Jane’s + indignation was not lessened by this news. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_170"></a>170</span>Katy leaned + forward and whispered something. + </p> + <p> + Jane and Gertie clapped their hands. + </p> + <p> + “All right, the very thing.” + </p> + <p> + At dinner the boys were rather surprised to find that the young ladies had + dropped the subject of the bread. They were inclined to take it up again, + but nobody seemed interested. Ernest was a little vexed to have his father + say before them all: “It will be all right about Sherm’s + riding the bay, only don’t stay out late, boys.” + </p> + <p> + The girls went upstairs soon after dinner and there was much giggling from + their room for the next two hours. + </p> + <p> + “Where ever can we put the clothes where they can’t find them? + They make such a big bundle.” + </p> + <p> + “O Chicken Little, I’ve thought of something that will be + better than hiding!” Katy’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she + unfolded her scheme. “Let’s hurry and fix a cord.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s a hook there already we can use. Mother had a hanging + basket outside the window one summer.” + </p> + <p> + “We can pretend to take a walk,” added Katy. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, I want to hear them–it will be half the fun,” + Gertie objected. + </p> + <p> + “I said pretend–we will sneak back through the orchard. Of + course, we’d have to be here to do it, Goosie.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_171"></a>171</span>That night + Mrs. Morton had an early supper at the request of the boys. Immediately + after, they armed themselves with sundry pitchers of hot water and retired + upstairs. The girls also disappeared. + </p> + <p> + All went well for some minutes except that Ernest cut himself in his haste + to shave. Presently, a call for mother floated downstairs. Mrs. Morton had + gone across the road to visit with Marian. Receiving no reply, Ernest + called again lustily. Dr. Morton, coming in just then, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Your mother is not here, what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Send Chicken Little then.” + </p> + <p> + “She’s gone for a walk with Katy and Gertie.” + </p> + <p> + “Thunderation! I’ve got to have somebody. Won’t you + please call Mother?” + </p> + <p> + At this moment three girlish forms slipped into the grape arbor + immediately below the boys’ window, and concealed themselves in its + deepest shadow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton came patiently home to attend to the needs of her favorite + son. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Ernest?” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you put our Sunday clothes?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, aren’t they in the closet?” + </p> + <p> + “In the closet? Do you suppose I’d call you home if they were + in the closet? They aren’t anywhere!” Ernest’s tone + verged on the disrespectful. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton toiled upstairs with a sigh. Was there to be a repetition of + the bread episode? + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_172"></a>172</span>Ernest had + spoken the truth, the aforesaid clothes were not anywhere. The boys + exchanged glances both wrathful and sheepish. Ernest had already exhausted + every swear word that his mother’s presence permitted. Sherm, also + restrained by her presence–he had retired to bed while she searched + their room and closet–thought all the exclamations he hesitated to + utter. Three young young ladies in the arbor beneath listened to such + fragments of conversation as floated down to them with unholy glee. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ernest, they’re certainly not here; I’ll go look + in Chicken Little’s room.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest accompanied her. Sherm scrambled out of bed and speedily resumed + his ordinary wearing apparel. He was startled to perceive a bulky object + suddenly darken their window. It was a peculiar-looking bundle from which + coat sleeves and trousers’ legs dangled indiscriminately. He had no + difficulty in recognizing their missing clothes. He rushed to the window + and raised the screen, calling to Ernest excitedly. He half expected to + see the things disappear as mysteriously as they had come, but the bundle + remained stationary. It had been raised to the window by means of a pulley + contrived from an old clothes line and the hanging basket hook. The end of + the cord was hidden in the arbor. + </p> + <p> + The boys secured their possessions, hastily assuring themselves that they + were all there. Mrs. Morton <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_173"></a>173</span>started + thankfully downstairs, but had barely reached the foot when a vigorous + exclamation and a loud “Mother!” recalled her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had never seen Ernest so furious. Sherm didn’t say much, + but his face was wrathfully red. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” + </p> + <p> + “Look at this!” Ernest’s voice was tragic as he held the + garment up to view. His trousers’ legs had been neatly stitched + across twice on the sewing machine. Sherm’s, ditto. All four pair of + sleeves were also carefully stitched with a tight tension, so they could + not be readily ripped out. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton looked aghast. “It will take an hour to get that out!” + </p> + <p> + “Confound those kids! Mother, you can just make those smarties come + rip that stitching out!” + </p> + <p> + “My son, whom are you addressing?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mother, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but this is + a little more than I can stand! Wait till I get my hands on Jane!” + </p> + <p> + “You would do well to remember, Ernest, that you started this + practical joking yourself. I hope it will be a lesson to you to refrain + from such pranks in future.” + </p> + <p> + “We didn’t do anything but carry the bread over to the Captain + without telling them. That’s where they wanted it to go.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_174"></a>174</span>Mrs. Morton + gasped. “Did you take the whole baking?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, wasn’t that what you wanted?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton considered a moment before replying. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ernest, you boys have brought this annoyance upon yourselves–I + think you will have to accept the consequences. I am too tired to fuss + with the stitching to-night. If you go to Jenkinses you will have to wear + your every day suits.” + </p> + <p> + “But Mother!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was already descending the stairs; she did not respond. + </p> + <p> + Ernest turned in despair to Sherm, who was examining the neat stitching + ruefully. + </p> + <p> + Sherm grinned; “Guess we might as well take our medicine. Score one + for the kids!” + </p> + <p> + “I think they might take a joke the way it was intended.” + </p> + <p> + “They seem to have taken the joke and a few other things besides.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm chuckled. Ernest laughed, too, a little sulkily. + </p> + <p> + “We’re elected to stay at home all right, but I’ll get + ahead of them if it takes a month!” + </p> + <p> + By the time the boys had rearrayed themselves and come downstairs, the + occupants of the grape arbor had vanished. They didn’t return until + the <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_175"></a>175</span>enemy had + departed for a ride to soothe its ruffled feelings. + </p> + <p> + The girls retired to bed early, as innocent young people should. + </p> + <p> + “Did you have a good time at Mamie’s last night?” asked + Chicken Little at breakfast the next morning. + </p> + <p> + “Mamie’s? We didn’t go to Mamie’s.” + </p> + <p> + “No? I thought you intended to.” This from Katy. + </p> + <p> + “You girls do get the queerest notions in your heads,” + observed Ernest loftily. + </p> + <p> + Gertie giggled. The boys looked at Gertie; they hadn’t suspected + Gertie. Katy also giggled, likewise Chicken Little. There is something + exceedingly contagious about giggling. + </p> + <p> + Ernest became even loftier. + </p> + <p> + “You girls seem to spend about half your time cackling–I hope + you know what you are cackling about.” + </p> + <p> + “We do,” retorted Chicken Little, still sweetly. + </p> + <p> + Ernest and Sherm exchanged glances. After breakfast Ernest asked his + mother if she had told the girls what happened the night before. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word. They didn’t ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” The boy was puzzled. + </p> + <p> + At noon they took another tack. + </p> + <p> + “I forgot to tell you that Mamie sent her regards <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_176"></a>176</span>to you and Katy,” + Ernest remarked casually. + </p> + <p> + “She said she was sorry you didn’t come, too,” added + Sherm. + </p> + <p> + Jane lifted her eyebrows at Katy. Katy shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Sis, I forgot to tell you that Captain Clarke invited + us all to come over to supper to-morrow night. He said to tell you he + appreciated that bread very much. And while I think of it, if you can + spare a little of your valuable time, I’d thank you to rip that + stitching out of our clothes. I want to wear mine to the Captain’s.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, we’ll rip out the stitching if you’ll bake + us a batch of bread as good as the one you took.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much, Mary Ann! We took the bread to the Captain, all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but we only intended to send one loaf–and, besides, you + made us a lot of trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, haven’t the girls got to take out that stitching?” + </p> + <p> + “I think Jane’s proposition is a fair one, Ernest,” + observed Dr. Morton dryly. + </p> + <p> + The boys retired to their room early that night where they worked most + industriously with scissors and penknife and clothes brush. They had paid + a hurried visit to Chicken Little’s room when they first came + upstairs. This visit did much to sweeten their hour of labor. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_177"></a>177</span>The girls + were spending the evening at Frank’s. They were late in getting + home. The night was hot and they hated to go to bed until it began to cool + off. Dr. and Mrs. Morton were sitting on the front porch. + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed, children. Father was just starting over to call you.” + Mrs. Morton kissed them each goodnight. + </p> + <p> + Dr. and Mrs. Morton followed them in and had barely settled themselves for + the night, when an unearthly shriek rent the air, followed by another and + yet another. + </p> + <p> + “What in thunder are those children up to now?” Dr. Morton + spoke in the tone of one who considered that patience had ceased to be a + virtue. + </p> + <p> + “O Mother, come quick–there’s snakes or frogs or + something in our bed and we haven’t any light!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton hurriedly lit a lamp and went to the rescue, followed by the + doctor armed with a stick. + </p> + <p> + Holding the lamp aloft they went into the room, the three girls, who had + retired in a panic to the head of the stairs, bringing up the rear. Katy + had scrambled into bed and out again in haste, dragging the coverlet and + sheet half off on the floor. The interior of the bed was fully exposed to + view. It was already occupied–not by snakes, but by a handful of + fat, squirming, little polliwogs. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh, I thought it was a snake–they were so <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_178"></a>178</span>slimy and cold!” + Katy shivered at the recollection. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton grimly gathered up the polliwogs, then, leaving his wife to + restore order, went into the boys’ room and held a conversation + behind closed doors. No report of what was said ever reached the girls, + but the practical jokes ended then and there. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0178.jpg" id="img023" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_10"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_179"></a>179</span> + <img src="images/p0179.jpg" id="img024" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + SUPPER AT THE CAPTAIN’S + </h2> + <p> + Their late unpleasantness had made the young people unusually polite to + each other. Irritating subjects were carefully avoided the next day. When + they set out for the Captain’s, Sherm gallantly handed Katy in to + the front seat to sit beside Ernest, while he sandwiched himself between + Jane and Gertie. The boys had finally concluded that the real joke was on + them and were trying to make up. + </p> + <p> + The Captain received them at the gate. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t be grateful enough for that bread. I haven’t + had such bread since I was a boy at home. I believe I am indebted to both + Chicken Little and Gertie for the treat. Wing Fan is consumed with envy + and asked me to-day if I would ask the honorable miss to tell him how she + make the so wonderful bread.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_180"></a>180</span>“I’d + be delighted to,” replied Chicken Little, “only it took more + than telling for Gertie and me. We tried ever so many times before we got + it just right, but, of course, Wing understands more about cooking than we + did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, judging by the bread, you seem to know a good deal about + cooking.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm could not resist. “Yes, and the girls are first rate at + sewing, too!” + </p> + <p> + This was too much for them all. They laughed until the Captain begged to + be let in on the fun. + </p> + <p> + Their host had an unexpected treat for them. “You are to help me + christen my new row boat. It came four days ago, but I have been saving it + until you could all go with me.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way down the creek to a long, deep pool, where a blue and white + skiff floated gaily at anchor. A piece of white cardboard was tacked over + the name so they could not see it. + </p> + <p> + “I covered it up to see if you could guess it. I’ll give one + of those Siamese elephants to the one who gets it first.” + </p> + <p> + A lively contest followed. The girls suggested all the poetical names they + could think of from Sea Rover to Bounding Billow. The boys, after a few + wild guesses, settled down to the names of places in the neighborhood, and + women’s names. + </p> + <p> + The Captain laughed at their wild hazards. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_181"></a>181</span>“It isn’t + the name of any ship or famous naval hero?” Ernest asked this + question for the second time. + </p> + <p> + The Captain shook his head. “Some of your neighborhood guessers were + the nearest. There’s one thing I’m sure of, Chicken Little won’t + guess it.” + </p> + <p> + This was hint enough for Sherm. “Chicken Little,” he sang out + instantly. + </p> + <p> + “Bright boy, the elephant is yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you really?” Chicken Little eyed the long strip of + cardboard that concealed the name, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + The Captain took out his penknife and deftly ripped the covering off. + There it was–the letters an inch tall in white paint: “Chicken + Little.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we should have a proper christening ceremony while we are + at it. Ernest, would you mind stepping up to the house and asking Wing for + a bottle of ginger ale?” + </p> + <p> + When Ernest returned with the bottle of amber-colored liquid, Captain + Clarke turned to Gertie. + </p> + <p> + “We must divide the honors, will you break the bottle over the bow + while Sherm pushes off? Champagne is customary, but this is better for a + prohibition state, and for young folks in any state.” + </p> + <p> + Gertie took the bottle and waited for directions. The others looked on + curiously. Sherm untied the <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_182"></a>182</span>boat, + and, holding the cord in his hand, also waited. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we’d better consider Ernest the crew; that cord is + hardly long enough to permit the <i>Chicken Little</i> to float off in + style, and we don’t want to have to swim, to bring her back. Jump + in, Ernest; you know how to handle an oar in fresh water, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I can manage it.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke explained to Gertie exactly how to strike the blow that + should send the ginger ale foaming over the bow, and repeated the formal + words of christening until she knew them by heart. Gertie was so + interested she forgot to be shy, and performed her office with much + spirit, repeating the “I christen thee, <i>Chicken Little</i>,” + as solemnly as if she were standing beside a battleship instead of a + blue-and-white row boat. It was a pretty ceremony, but it took so long + that Wing Fan came to announce supper before they were all fairly packed + away in the boat for their promised ride. The six were a snug fit. + </p> + <p> + Supper was served on the uncovered veranda. A stream of late afternoon + sunshine filtered through the trees, and, with the lengthening shadows, + cast a sunflecked pattern of branch and foliage on the white linen + tablecloth and shining glass and silver. Some of Chicken Little’s + own clove pinks, mingled <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_183"></a>183</span>with + feathery larkspur and ribbon grass, filled a silver bowl in the center of + the table. + </p> + <p> + “How did you keep them fresh so long?” Chicken Little asked + curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Wing Fan performed some kind of an incantation over them. You’ll + have to ask him.” + </p> + <p> + Wing was delighted to have Jane notice them. “Velly easy keep–put + some away in box with ice all same butter.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke had been the first person on the creek to put up ice for + summer use and Wing was the proud possessor of a roomy ice box. + </p> + <p> + “It seems like home to have ice again.” Katy was stirring the + sugar in her tea for the sheer satisfaction of hearing the ice tinkle + against the sides of the glass. A sudden thought disturbed her. “Though + there couldn’t be anything nicer than your spring house for keeping + things. I don’t believe our melons at home ever got so nice and cold + all through as yours do down in the spring stream.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a wonderful spring you have over on the place.” + Captain Clarke came to Katy’s rescue. “And that big oak above + it is the finest tree in this part of the country. I’ll venture it + has a history if we only knew it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Father is very proud of the old oak. He says it is at least + two hundred years old. He wouldn’t take anything for it,” + Ernest replied. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_184"></a>184</span>“Everybody + calls Kansas a new country,” said Sherm, “but I guess it is + pretty old in some ways. Kansas had a lot of history during the war.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and lots of the people who helped make the history are living + down at Garland now. The old Santa Fe trail runs clear across our ranch. + You can tell it still–though it hasn’t been traveled for + almost twenty years–by the ruts and washouts. And even where the + ground wasn’t cut up by the countless wheels, it was packed so hard + the blue stem has never grown there since. It is all covered with that + fuzzy buffalo grass. In winter this turns a lighter brown than the prairie + grass and you can see the trail for miles, distinctly.” Ernest loved + history and politics. + </p> + <p> + “What was the Santa Fe trail? I have heard you speak of the trail so + much and I never knew what you meant.” Katy asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + The Captain answered: “The old trans-continental wagon road to the + gold fields of California. You know there was a time when Kansas didn’t + have anything so civilized as a railroad and people traveled by wagon and + horseback–even on foot, all the way to the coast.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” added Ernest, “and lots of them died on the way + or got killed by Indians.” + </p> + <p> + “Indians?” said Katy, “why, we haven’t seen a + single Indian and Cousin May said she’d be afraid <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_185"></a>185</span>to come out here + because there were lots of them still about.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in this part of Kansas–you needn’t lose any sleep. + The Kaw reservation isn’t so very far away and parties sometimes + come this way to revisit their old hunting grounds, but the Kaws were a + peaceable tribe even in their free days.” + </p> + <p> + “There are lots of Indian mounds and relics around here,” put + in Chicken Little. “Father got those arrow heads, and that stone to + pound corn, and his tomahawk heads out of a mound over on Little John.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there’s a tree on the main street in town that used + to be a famous meeting place for the Indians. Oh, we must take you all to + see the old Indian Mission. It was used as a fort, too, more than once, + they say. The walls are fully two feet thick.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew, I didn’t know you had so many interesting things round + here!” exclaimed Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “We are so used to them we hardly think of them as being + interesting. Have I ever told you about the hermit’s cave?” + </p> + <p> + “Hermit’s cave? No, where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “On the side of that big bluff just west of town. Oh, that’s + some story. The hermit lived there until about ten years ago. Some said he + was a Jesuit priest who lived a hermit’s life to become more holy, + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_186"></a>186</span>and others + that he was an Italian Noble who had fled from Italy to escape punishment + for a crime. Nobody ever really knew much about him except that he was + highly educated and read books in several different languages. But the + cave is still there, in the ledge of rocks near the top of the bluff.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’d love to see it.” Gertie liked romantic things. + </p> + <p> + “So would I,” Katy added. + </p> + <p> + “Me too,” echoed Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Count me in,” said the Captain, “or rather let me take + you all to town some day to explore these marvels.” + </p> + <p> + “They really aren’t much to see–they’re more + interesting to tell about. But I’d be glad to see them all again + myself,” Ernest replied. + </p> + <p> + Wing Fan had prepared so many good things for them that none of the party + felt energetic enough for rowing immediately after supper. They were glad + to linger over the peach ice cream which was Wing’s crowning + triumph, and nibble at the Chinese sweetmeats about which they were rather + doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe I ever tasted such good ice cream,” + exclaimed Katy. + </p> + <p> + “I think Wing Fan must say magical words over everything he cooks–his + things are so different and taste so good. I never thought I liked rice + before, but his was delicious.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0186-insert.jpg" id="img025" alt="" /> + <p class="center caption"> + And he brandished it fiercely. + </p> + </div> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_187"></a>187</span>“Wing + Fan knows all about the family history of rice. He talks to each grain + separately,” laughed the Captain. + </p> + <p> + The boys didn’t praise Wing’s efforts in words, but their + appetites kept Wing on the broad grin. He could not resist looking proudly + at his employer when Sherm accepted his third saucer of cream. + </p> + <p> + The Captain invited them into the library to pick out Sherm’s + elephant. They were all so interested in the curios and asked so many + questions they came near forgetting the boat ride. Ernest picked out a + ship’s cutlass the first thing. The Captain took it down for him to + examine and he brandished it fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke smiled. “I fear you wouldn’t do much execution + if you handled it that way, Ernest. A cutlass has tricks of its own. Here, + this is the way.” He showed the boy how to get the proper hold and + how to swing it. + </p> + <p> + Ernest struck an attitude. “Behold your sailor brother as he skims + the briny deep, Chicken Little.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, naval officers don’t carry cutlasses, do they, Captain + Clarke?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe the sword used now is straight. But this cutlass has + a history I think might interest you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us.” + </p> + <p> + “If you like. It won’t take long. Boys, will you <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_188"></a>188</span>draw up chairs for + the girls?” Captain Clarke reached out his hand for a big easy chair + nearby at the same moment that Sherm laid his hand upon it to draw it + nearer for their host himself. The two hands rested in almost the same + position on the opposite arms of the chair. They were singularly alike. + Katy, the observing, noticed this instantly. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke studied Sherm’s hand for a minute, then his gaze + shifted to his own. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if my hand was ever as good looking as Sherm’s,” + he said easily. “You have a hand that denotes unusual strength and + will power, according to ‘palmology.’ You will have to live up + to it.” + </p> + <p> + But Katy was persistent. “It’s almost exactly like yours, + Captain Clarke, only yours isn’t so smooth and has more lines. Don’t + you see it’s a square hand with unusually long fingers. The thumbs + are shaped just the same, too.” + </p> + <p> + “You should be an artist, Katy, you are such a close observer,” + replied the Captain. + </p> + <p> + They settled down comfortably for the story. Chicken Little noticed Sherm + regarding his own hand rather critically and glancing from it to the + Captain’s, who used frequent gestures as he warmed with his talk. + </p> + <p> + Gertie could not take her eyes from the cruel steel blade of the cutlass. + “I wish there were no awful things to kill people with. I don’t + believe <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_189"></a>189</span>God + meant people to kill each other in battle any more than to kill each other + when they get mad.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke smiled at her disturbed look. “That is one of the + most terrible questions human beings have ever had to answer, little girl. + I thought as you do once, Gertie, before the Civil War broke out. I + loathed the histories and pictures of fighting. My schoolmates used to dub + me a sissy because I hated the sight of blood. But when President Lincoln + called for volunteers to save our country, when I realized that it was a + choice between having one great free country with liberty in it for both + blacks and whites, or letting our own race and kin leave us in hatred to + continue the wickedness of human slavery right at our doors, it didn’t + take me long to decide. War and all unnecessary suffering inflicted by + human beings upon each other, are hideous. But have you ever thought how + much more of such suffering there would be if parents didn’t inflict + suffering upon their children to make them control their ugly passions? If + our courts didn’t punish people for being cruel to other people? And + when it isn’t a child or one or two grown men or women who try to be + cruel or unjust, but a whole nation, what then? Surely other nations + should come to the rescue of the right, even if it means war. You wouldn’t + let a big dog kill a little one without trying to save it, would you, + Gertie?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_190"></a>190</span>Gertie mutely + shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Neither should Christian nations allow weaker peoples nor any part + of their own people to be unjustly treated, when it is in their power to + prevent it. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ will some day be + a question every nation must answer as well as every individual.” + </p> + <p> + “But most of the world’s wars have been to take other nations’ + rights away from them, not to protect them,” objected Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, on one side, but in every war there has always been the side + that fought to protect its loved ones and its homes from the brutality of + conquerors. There is hideous wrong in every war, but the wrong is in the + hearts of those who would rob and oppress those weaker than themselves, + not in the patriots and heroes who resist. But I didn’t mean to + deliver a lecture. I’d rather tell you about the brave boy who + wielded this cutlass.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little drew her chair closer. + </p> + <p> + “It was in ’65–soon after I was mustered out of service + at the close of the war, I was offered the command of a freighter going + round The Horn to the Orient. I hated to leave my wife and little boy for + a year’s voyage, especially after being away so long during the war, + but it was the only opening worth while I could find. I guess I had the + get-rich-quick idea, too, but never mind, that has nothing to <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_191"></a>191</span>do with the story. + We had a terrible voyage. Storms and bad luck of every kind. The rigging + was shrouded with ice for weeks–two men were frozen to death on + watch. I don’t know that I blame the men as I look back. I had been + so hardened myself by the terrible discipline and sights of war, I guess I + didn’t take much trouble to make my crew see the necessity of some + of our hardships. At any rate, they mutinied and would have killed me + while I slept, but for my cabin boy. He was only sixteen, but he + discovered the conspiracy and roused me. With the help of the other + officers and a few loyal sailors we stood them off. Hot work it was.” + The Captain stopped an instant, musing. + </p> + <p> + The young people waited, expectant. Captain Clarke held up the cutlass + reverently. “Charlie used this to good purpose after he had fired + his last round of ammunition. I was wounded–had propped myself + against the rail and was aiming my last precious bits of lead at the + ring-leader, when some one jabbed a bayonet at me from the side. Charlie + knocked it up, cutting the dastard down with a second blow that was a + marvel. Those two strokes saved my life and saved the ship. Do you wonder + this ugly thing looks beautiful to me?” + </p> + <p> + “And the boy?” Katy asked softly. + </p> + <p> + “Commands a vessel of his own in the Pacific trade. I had a letter + and a Satsuma jar from him a <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_192"></a>192</span>few + weeks ago. But we are neglecting the <i>Chicken Little</i>! That will + never do.” + </p> + <p> + A crescent moon was visible in the sky as they came back to the place + where the boat was moored. + </p> + <p> + “I fear I detained you longer than I intended with my yarn,” + said the Captain. “It will soon be dark and that moon is too young + to be very useful.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it will give a good deal of light for two or three hours. I + know every inch of the road, and even if I didn’t, the horses do,” + Ernest replied. + </p> + <p> + “Will you boys take the oars together or one at a time? Chicken + Little, you girls may take turns in the bow and the rest of us will make a + nice tight fit here in the stern.” + </p> + <p> + The boys preferred to try their luck singly. Ernest picked up the oars + awkwardly. He had had little experience in rowing and he felt + self-conscious under the Captain’s eye. His first stroke sent a + shower of drops flying over them. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” called Sherm, “that isn’t a hose you’re + handling!” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, the drops feel lovely and cool.” Katy was inclined to + defend Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “A longer, slower stroke will do the work better and not blister + your hands so quickly,” admonished Captain Clarke. “Our future + admiral must learn to row a boat skillfully. You boys are welcome to use + it whenever you see fit.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_193"></a>193</span>Ernest set + his lips together firmly and soon had the boat skimming along rapidly, + though still rather jerkily, his strokes being more energetic than + regular. The woods were already echoing with soft night noises, frogs + croaked; the clicking notes of the katydids mingled with the whining of + the wind through the boughs overhead. Part of the pool disappeared in the + shadows; the rest broke into shimmering ripples with every stroke of the + oars. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I love the night time!” exclaimed Chicken Little. “Seems + as if everything in the world had done its day’s work and was + sitting down to talk it over–even the frogs. Don’t you s’pose + they’re glad or sorry about things when night comes, just as we are?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm looked at Chicken Little, who was leaning over the side of the boat, + trailing her hand in the water. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, you work your imagination overtime–it will + wear out if you aren’t careful.” + </p> + <p> + She rewarded him with a grimace. + </p> + <p> + “You are getting a much evener stroke, Ernest,” observed the + Captain. + </p> + <p> + “I bet he’s getting a blister on his hand, too,” said + Katy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Ernest, you’d better let me have a turn.” Sherm + slid over to the rower’s seat and reached his hand for the oars, + which Ernest yielded reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_194"></a>194</span>Sherm had + spent one summer near Lake Michigan and was a better oarsman than Ernest. + The boat skimmed along smoothly. “Good for you, Sherm, you have a + strong, even stroke,” the Captain praised. + </p> + <p> + Presently the girls began to sing, Ernest and Sherm joining in. Captain + Clarke listened happily to the young voices until they struck up “Soft + and Low over the Western Sea.” They all loved it and were crooning + it sweetly, but the Captain’s face went white as they sang: “Father + will come to his babe in the nest.” “Don’t!” he + exclaimed involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + They all looked at him in surprise. He regained his self-possession + instantly, saying with a smile: “Go on–don’t mind my + twinge of rheumatism–I slept in a draught last night. That is one of + the loveliest things Tennyson has ever written.” + </p> + <p> + The young people finished the song and began another, but they wondered. + The spell of the evening was broken. Soon after, they started home. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0194.jpg" id="img026" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_11"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_195"></a>195</span> + <img src="images/p0195.jpg" id="img027" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + CALICO AND COMPANY + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Morton passed the muffins for the fifth time to Ernest. Ernest’s + appetite for muffins was prodigious. Sherm was also ready for another. + Chicken Little hadn’t quite finished hers, but at the rate they were + disappearing–she thought she’d better. Katy said: “Yes, + thank you,” and Gertie, who ate more slowly than the others, had + only had one. Dr. Morton was merely waiting to be urged. Mrs. Morton rang + the bell doubtfully. Annie had filled the plate three times already. Annie + appeared with a questioning grin. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I bring some bread, Ma’am? They ain’t no more + muffins.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton laughed. “Our appetites do credit to your cooking, Annie.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_196"></a>196</span>Mrs. Morton + sighed, then smiled as she surveyed the rosy, tanned faces. + </p> + <p> + “There is certainly nothing like country air to make people eat. I + wonder when Alice and Dick will be getting back. Dick said the first week + in August probably.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear,” said Chicken Little, “I want to see Alice + and Dick again, but I don’t want Katy and Gertie and Sherm to go + home. They can only stay a few days this time, Alice said so.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to go home a bit,” replied Katy. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing to do at home till school begins.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to go home and see Mother, and then come back.” + Gertie looked a little wistful. She did want Mother within reach. + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could keep you all till September.” Dr. Morton + liked to have the clatter of the young people about. “If we only + knew some one going back to Illinois at that time to look after you. I don’t + suppose Mrs. Halford would like to have you girls travel so far without + some grown person along. But I don’t see why Sherm can’t just + as well stay till time to get ready for college.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like nothing better, and I’m not dead sure I’m + going to college this fall. Father seemed a little doubtful when I left, + and the folks haven’t said anything about it in their letters. If I + can’t, I guess <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_197"></a>197</span>I’ll + try for a clerkship in the post-office when I go back.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton studied a moment. “How would you like to work here on the + ranch if you don’t go to college, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean it, Dr. Morton?” + </p> + <p> + “I surely do. Of course, Ernest’s going is not quite settled + yet, but I have practically made up my mind that he must go off to school + somewhere. We shall need some one to take his place and it would be very + pleasant to have you. Chicken Little here wouldn’t be quite so + homesick for Ernest, perhaps, if you would let her adopt you in his place.” + </p> + <p> + Jane jumped up and down in an ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sherm, please do–I thought I’d just die with + lonesomeness this winter with all of you gone, and Ernest, too.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm looked pleased at her eagerness. His news from home was still + depressing and Sherm, if not homesick, had his lonely hours. + </p> + <p> + “I would pay you regular wages–whatever is customary for boys + of your age. I should have to make some inquiries,” continued Dr. + Morton. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and we could go to the lyceums–they most always have one + every winter over at the Fair View Schoolhouse. It’s heaps of fun + when there’s snow on the ground. Frank puts the big wagon bed on + runners and we fill the bottom with straw and buffalo <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_198"></a>198</span>robes and all + snuggle down together. You just must stay, Sherm!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he will, if you don’t talk him to death, Chicken + Little. You haven’t given him a chance to get in a word edgeways.” + Ernest reproved his sister sharply after the manner of brothers slightly + older. + </p> + <p> + “What about you?” retorted Chicken Little. “Sherm, we’ll + all keep quiet and let you have a chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to, if college is ruled out, and Mother and Father + will let me. They may want me at home, especially if Father grows worse.” + Sherm gave a little gulp. He was very fond of his father. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll write to him to-day, Sherm, and you might write, too, + for I’m going in to town about noon. Any commissions, Mother? Why + don’t you drop things and come along? A change will do you good–you + haven’t been off the place for two weeks or more.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know but I will. Chicken Little, you girls might get + up a little picnic lunch for yourselves and the boys, and have it out in + the orchard. Annie has a big ironing to-day and it would help her out not + to have a dinner to get. Then we’ll have a hearty supper this + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and Chicken Little, did you girls feed the <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_199"></a>199</span>porkers last + evening? I heard them squealing and grunting in the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Golly!” said Chicken Little, sitting up with a start and + looking at Katy. Katy looked guilty, and Gertie concerned. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton did not need any further answer. “Well, you’d + better run right out. Remember dumb beasts must never be neglected, + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “And Jane, I don’t want to hear you say Golly again. By-words + of any kind are objectionable for young girls, and that is particularly + rough and coarse,” Mrs. Morton added severely. + </p> + <p> + “You never say it is coarse when Ernest says it–and he uses it + an awful lot.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you are not a boy,” Mrs. Morton replied with a + dignity that was final. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care,” said Chicken Little when the trio got + out doors, “it’s not one bit fair to let boys do so many more + things than girls! You just wait, if I ever have a daughter she’s + going to do every single thing her brother does. So there!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm overheard and later in the day when he and Jane were talking + together, he remarked: “Chicken Little, I don’t think it is + exactly fair either to hold the girls in so much tighter than boys, but + your mother is right, allee samee. I have heard the fellows talk often + enough to know they think a lot more of a girl who isn’t slangy, + than of one who is. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_200"></a>200</span>Of + course, mild ones like ‘Oh dear’ don’t matter, but you + see a man kind of likes to have a girl, well–different.” Sherm + was getting in a little beyond his depth. + </p> + <p> + The girls carried two pails of sour milk and a great basket of parings to + their greedy pigs and watched them feed without interest. + </p> + <p> + “The only reason I’m glad to go home is I won’t have to + feed these horrid pigs any more. I never saw anything grow and eat like + they do. They ought to be worth a lot of money after all the stuff they’ve + eaten.” Katy kicked her toe against the log pen to emphasize her + remarks. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think they’re worth so very much yet.” + Chicken Little was regarding them with no very friendly eye. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t mind so much if they weren’t getting so ugly + and smelly,” said Gertie plaintively. + </p> + <p> + Frank, happening by just then, was amused to see their disgusted + expressions. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Frank, how soon will these pigs be big enough to go in the + corral with the others?” + </p> + <p> + Frank’s eyes twinkled. He came up and scanned the ten muddy, + impudent pigs, who were already coming up to the sides of the pen, + grunting for more. “Well,” he said judicially, “I think + perhaps you will be rid of them inside of two or three months, but they’ll + eat a lot more from now on.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_201"></a>201</span>The three set + up a united protest. + </p> + <p> + “Father said it would only be a few weeks when we caught them, and + it’s been five already,” Chicken Little remonstrated hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t go for me. You asked for my opinion and I gave it + to you.” + </p> + <p> + Frank grinned so broadly that Jane grew suspicious. “Pooh, you’re + teasing, I’ll ask Father to-night.” + </p> + <p> + The girls scoured the pantry and spring house for provender for the + picnic. Sherm and Ernest would be in from the meadow where they were + cutting down thistles about half-past twelve. Bread and butter and cold + ham were flanked with cookies, pie, and musk melons. Annie wanted them out + of her road as speedily as possible, so they took their stuff all down to + the orchard and stowed it away in the shade. + </p> + <p> + “Now what?” demanded Katy. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Wish we could think of something new.” + Chicken Little stared up and down the rows of apple trees, seeking an + inspiration. + </p> + <p> + Her glance fell upon a lone apple tree standing in the center of an open + space, apart from all its fellows. Katy’s glance followed hers. + </p> + <p> + “Why is that old tree all by itself that way?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know–they were all big trees when we came here. + It is a bell-flower and we call it Old <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_202"></a>202</span>King Bee. Say, I’ve got an idea. Let’s + get Calico and Caliph and play riding school–you remember that + article in ‘The Harper’s’ about a riding school in New + York, and you said you wished you could go.” + </p> + <p> + “Would Ernest let us take Caliph?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, but I know I could ride him if I tucked my + skirts up and used the man’s saddle. There can’t a soul see us + here; it’s so shut in by the trees.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be fun. Let’s try to ride bare back and do stunts to + surprise the boys. I wish we could take our skirts clear off–they + catch so on the saddle horn and in the stirrup buckles.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what we’ll do.” Chicken Little’s eyes + danced impishly. “There are lots of Ernest’s old trousers in + the lumber-room closet that he outgrew ever so long ago. I believe we + could find some to fit all of us. Let’s go see.” + </p> + <p> + A swift rummage of the dusty closet set them all sneezing, but they + triumphantly brought forth an armful of defunct trousers and carried them + up to their room. For the next fifteen minutes such giggles and + exclamations and shrieks of laughter escaped from their room that Annie + left her ironing to see what was up. An astonishing sight met her gaze. + Once started upon the dressing-up craze, the girls had not been content + with one garment. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_203"></a>203</span>Chicken + Little had daringly ransacked not only Ernest’s bureau, but Sherm’s + possessions, in quest of shirts and ties. + </p> + <p> + She had decked herself in a blue checked cheviot shirt, tucked into blue + serge trousers, liberally patched at the knees. Sherm’s best red tie + was neatly knotted at her throat, and an old straw hat adorned with a red + hair ribbon, topped her brown braids. Katy was resplendent in a tan + colored shirt, with a bright green tie popularly supposed to belong to + Ernest. Her own black sailor finished her off nicely. Gertie had a faded + pink shirt, which dated back to Centerville days–all Ernest’s + more recent garments being too big for her slim little figure. + </p> + <p> + Annie threw up her hands. “You’re a pretty-looking lot. I’d + just like to have the Missus see you now. I bet you’d catch it.” + </p> + <p> + But Annie had troubles of her own and retired to her ironing. + </p> + <p> + The trio slipped out the back way–they didn’t care to have + Marian see them, and they didn’t wish to bother with Jilly. The + stable was deserted. They quickly saddled Caliph after making friends–with + sundry lumps of sugar. Calico was equipped only with a saddle blanket and + girth. Gertie decided that she would let the others experiment first, so + she walked back to the orchard. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s try them down the lane first. They will be <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_204"></a>204</span>easier to manage on + a straight road than in among the trees, if they are fractious.” + </p> + <p> + Jane helped Katy upon Calico’s back and showed her how to press her + knees against the sides to secure her seat in the place of stirrups. + </p> + <p> + “You can put your hand under the girth if you begin to slip.” + </p> + <p> + Katy took a turn or two and decided she could stick on if Calico didn’t + trot. He was a single footer and had a very easy gait except on the rare + occasions when he insisted upon breaking into a hard trot. Chicken Little + led Caliph to the fence. She wanted to be sure that she was well in her + seat before Caliph discovered she was a girl. + </p> + <p> + But Caliph liked Chicken Little, and not having any skirts to make him + suspicious, seemed inclined to take her for what she seemed. He noticed + only that he had a lighter hand on the reins. He dashed off as lightly and + smoothly as if Ernest or Sherm were on his back, and Chicken Little was in + a transport of pleasure and triumph to think she could ride him. Katy had + a harder time, but she stuck on pluckily for three turns up and down the + lane. + </p> + <p> + They didn’t dare linger too long lest some neighbor come by and see + them. So they presently turned off upon the faint track that led through + the gate into the orchard. Gertie was awaiting them under the big tree. + Katy slipped off Calico to give Gertie <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_205"></a>205</span>her turn. Chicken Little led the way on Caliph + and they went round and round the tree, faster and faster, till both were + ready for a rest. The ponies were fresh and seemed to enjoy the sport as + much as they did. + </p> + <p> + Katy tried Calico next, enchanted to find she could stick on at a canter. + By this time they were ready for something new. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose we could ride backwards?” Katy was in a daring + mood. + </p> + <p> + They could and they did, though Calico was a little doubtful as to whether + he approved of this innovation. It was not exactly comfortable for anyone + concerned and they soon gave it up. But when Chicken Little tried to make + the intelligent pony dance on his hind legs, Calico waxed indignant. + Instead of rising gracefully, he gave two short, plunging leaps, + descending with forelegs rigid and head down, a maneuver which sent his + mistress flying over his head. + </p> + <p> + The turf was soft and she was up in a trice, gripping Calico’s rein + before he could make use of his freedom. The crowning feat of the morning + was another of Chicken Little’s brilliant ideas. They had tethered + the ponies by their bridle reins and were letting them graze on the + orchard grass while they stretched out and rested. Suddenly Jane sat up + with a start and began to take off her shoes. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_206"></a>206</span>“What + on earth are you going to do now, Jane Morton?” demanded Katy + sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Wait and see. I’m most sure I can. I want you to lead Calico + very slowly.” + </p> + <p> + Katy obediently followed directions. Chicken Little put her hand on the + girth and vaulted on his back. She rode once around the tree tamely, then + slowly got to her feet on Calico’s slim back, bidding Katy steady + her. She succeeded in going about three feet with this precarious footing + before she lost her balance and slid harmlessly down on the pony’s + back. Calico did not look specially pleased at the jounce she gave him as + she lit. She persevered until she could go round the tree, then insisted + upon trying it alone. Katy and Gertie both remonstrated. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll get killed! Calico doesn’t like it a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t–I tried once all by myself last summer on old + Kit, but Calico’s harder, because he isn’t so fat. You wouldn’t + hurt me, would you, Calico?” She put her arm around his neck and + squeezed him hard. + </p> + <p> + Calico whinnied and began to nose her for sugar. She produced two lumps, + and stroked him, talking to him in whispers while Katy hooted. + </p> + <p> + “A lot of good that will do.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little got up again with Katy’s help, then started off + slowly by herself. Calico moved carefully at a snail’s pace. She + made the entire circuit <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_207"></a>207</span>of + the tree successfully this time. Again she went around, increasing the + speed of Calico’s walk. She was so jubilant she grew reckless and + clucked, which was Calico’s signal to canter. He responded promptly + and with equal promptness, she slid down on him kerplunck. Calico laid + back his ears in disapproval, and looked around inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + By this time Katy had plucked up her courage and wished to try it. She was + entirely willing, however, to have Chicken Little at the pony’s + head. Katy slipped, too, but she was lighter, and Calico was growing used + to it and did not mind so much. Chicken Little patted him each time and he + soon ceased to notice the bumps. Gertie preferred to be a spectator at + this stunt, but the others persisted until Jane succeeded in going round + the tree once with Calico pacing. + </p> + <p> + “Golly, I wish Ernest and Sherm could see us!” Chicken Little + was already sighing for new worlds to conquer. + </p> + <p> + “You said Golly again.” + </p> + <p> + “Golly, I did, didn’t I? It’s awfully hard to quit + anything like that. Say, I want you girls to pinch me every time I say it, + then I’ll remember.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll get mad if we do,” replied Gertie, wise beyond + her years. + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t! Honest to goodness I won’t. I truly want + to stop it.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_208"></a>208</span>“All + right,” said Katy firmly, “but you will get more pinches than + you are expecting.” + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie and poor Calico were all ready to settle down for a rest. + But Chicken Little was burning to show off before Ernest and Sherm. She + untied Caliph and took several turns around the tree, going faster and + faster. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh,” she said after a while, “I bet I could ride + Caliph anywhere. Suppose we go meet the boys. You and Gertie can both ride + Calico bare back. I guess they’ll be surprised. It’s most + noon; I can tell by the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “But Jane, we can’t go to meet the boys this way.” + Gertie looked distressed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot. What can we do? I’d be afraid to ride Caliph + with even a short skirt–he’s never had a woman on him before.” + </p> + <p> + “What if the boys do see us? Nobody else is likely to come along + just at noon. Anyway, your father thinks it’s dangerous for girls to + wear long skirts to ride in. I heard him say so.” Katy was plausible + and Chicken Little wanted to be persuaded. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care, if you don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, let’s do it. I think you look real nice that way, + Chicken Little, honest I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they’re heaps more comfortable. I feel so light. You + make an awfully cute boy, Katy, and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_209"></a>209</span>Gertie is just sweet. And you couldn’t + ride bare back half so well sidewise.” + </p> + <p> + It took some persuasion to secure Gertie’s consent, but she finally + gave in. + </p> + <p> + They rode gaily out into the lane. Calico was too tired to make any + protest to his double burden. Once in the lane, they waited in the shade. + But the boys did not come. They waited until Jane was sure it must be one + o’clock and their appetites suggested two at the very earliest. + Calico waited patiently enough, but Caliph was uneasy over the flies. + Finally, they decided to give the boys up and go back and have their + picnic alone. + </p> + <p> + “We might take one gallop down the line to the creek to make sure + they’re not in the meadow,” Katy suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I bet they finished the weeds sooner than they expected and went + fishing.” Chicken Little strained her eyes in the direction of the + meadow. + </p> + <p> + They started the horses off at a smart pace, then faster and faster, till + they broke into a swift gallop. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it glorious?” Chicken Little called back. She was + several lengths ahead. + </p> + <p> + She did not hear Katy’s response. A jack rabbit, frightened by the + approaching horses, broke cover from some wild blackberry bushes that grew + over the stone wall, and dashed across the road directly in front of + Caliph. The spirited beast shied violently, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_210"></a>210</span>then leaped forward, throwing Chicken Little + neatly off into the exact middle of the dusty lane. Her pride was more + hurt than she was. She tried to stop him by calling “Whoa” + lustily. But Caliph seemed to have a pressing engagement elsewhere. He + quickly disappeared around a bend in the lane. + </p> + <p> + The girls looked at each other in dismay. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little got hastily to her feet. There was no time to nurse + bruises. She must catch Caliph somehow. + </p> + <p> + “Golly, he’s got that beautiful Mexican saddle on and he may + take a notion to roll. I knew I hadn’t any business to take it, but + I wanted to ride him just as Ernest does.” + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie noticed the “Golly,” but there seemed to be + more important business on hand. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose you could take Calico and catch him?” asked + Katy anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, but I guess I’ll have to try.” + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie climbed down and Chicken Little swung herself up. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe one of you’d better come, too, to hold Calico and ride + him home if I catch Caliph.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll come, and Gertie had better run and change her clothes + and go back to the orchard to give the boys their lunch, if they come + before we get back. Don’t tell them where we’re gone.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_211"></a>211</span>“Nor + about Caliph, Gertie, you can say we’ll be back in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Katy had mounted behind Jane while she was giving this last direction and + poor Calico started off at a gallop. They crossed the creek and came to + the place where the road forked just beyond the timber without seeing hide + or hair of Caliph. + </p> + <p> + “He must have streaked it. I don’t think he’d take the + road to town–he must have gone straight home to the Captain’s. + Oh, dear, I’ll have to tell him I used Ernest’s horse without + permission, and I’ve got these awful clothes on! It just seems as if + the Captain has to know every single bad thing I ever do.” Chicken + Little heaved a long sigh and clucked to Calico. + </p> + <p> + They had almost reached the Captain’s gate when they saw Wing Fan + approaching on horseback, leading the truant Caliph. Chicken Little was + immensely relieved to find, as they came near, that neither saddle nor + bridle had suffered from the run away. + </p> + <p> + Wing Fan was also greatly relieved to find that no one had been hurt. + </p> + <p> + “Me velly ’fraid honorable brother have bad fall. Captain + Clarke no home. I bring horse, find out.” + </p> + <p> + Wing held Caliph while Jane mounted, and rode a little way with her to + make sure he would not be fractious, but Caliph seemed to have had his + fling and bowled along smoothly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_212"></a>212</span>In the + meantime Ernest and Sherm had arrived and were plying Gertie with + questions between mouthfuls. Gertie parried as long as she could, shutting + her lips together tight when they began to press her too hard. + </p> + <p> + “I’d just like to know what they are up to now. That precious + sister of mine can get into more scrapes than any kid I ever saw.” + </p> + <p> + “And Katy isn’t far behind her,” added Sherm, hoping + Gertie would try to defend her absent sister and let something out. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little and Katy took the horses to the barn, carefully unsaddled + Caliph, and rubbed both horses down and fed them, before going back to the + orchard. They forgot all about their unusual dress. + </p> + <p> + They arrived there, tired and flushed, in time to help the boys finish the + last melon. + </p> + <p> + “You mean things to eat the melons all up.” Chicken Little + almost forgot her own offense in her disgust over their greediness. + </p> + <p> + The boys did not waste time defending themselves; their attention was + concentrated on the girls’ peculiar costume. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what in the demnition bow wows have you been doing now, + Chicken Little Jane Morton?” Ernest’s gaze wandered from his + sister to Katy, who suddenly became self-conscious and tucked her feet + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_213"></a>213</span>and as much + of her trouser-clad legs as she could manage, underneath her. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gave a start of surprise, then faced Ernest boldly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just having a little fun.” + </p> + <p> + By this time Ernest was beginning to grasp details. “Suppose next + time you start out to have fun you let my things alone. Isn’t that + Sherm’s best tie you’ve got on?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little clutched the offending tie and glanced hastily at Sherm. + The boy was regarding her with a peculiar expression, both admiring and + disapproving. There was no denying that Chicken Little made a most + attractive boy. + </p> + <p> + The swift color swept into the girl’s face as she caught Sherm’s + glance. “Oh, dear, and he had told her only that morning that girls + should be different!” She liked Sherm–she didn’t want + him to think she was a bold, awful girl. Some way their prank seemed to + need excusing. She replied to the look in Sherm’s eyes rather than + to her brother’s accusation. + </p> + <p> + “We–I wanted to ride Caliph–I just knew I could if I + didn’t have a lot of horrid skirts to frighten him. And we did + beautiful stunts and we couldn’t, if we hadn’t put on your old + things. I bet if you had to wear cluttering things like skirts all the + time you’d be glad to take them off some times, too.” <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_214"></a>214</span>Chicken Little’s + big brown eyes sought Sherm’s appealingly. + </p> + <p> + Ernest answered before Sherm could say anything. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can settle with Mother about the skirts, but I’ll + thank you to let Caliph and my best ties alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ride him?” asked Sherm. “You’re welcome + to my tie, Chicken Little. It’s very becoming.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little felt subtly consoled. “Yes, I rode him, but he threw + me once,” she confessed. + </p> + <p> + “He threw me once, too,” said the boy. “You’d + better be a little careful.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm grinned and Chicken Little smiled back happily. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0214.jpg" id="img028" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_12"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_215"></a>215</span> + <img src="images/p0215.jpg" id="img029" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + DICK AND ALICE GO ON ALONE + </h2> + <p> + Dr. and Mrs. Morton got home about four o’clock. The girls had + studied some time as to whether they should make a clean breast of the + morning’s doings, but Ernest, urged on by Sherm, had discouraged + them. + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t be afraid I’ll peach, Sis. You’re an + awful good rider for a girl and I don’t mind your taking Caliph so + long as you didn’t get hurt. And I guess it was sensible of you not + to try him with skirts. But you’d better be careful. You’re + getting most too big for such tom boy business.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t anything really wrong,” argued Chicken + Little. + </p> + <p> + “I know my mother wouldn’t have cared way off out here in the + country.” Katy added her mite to the whitewashing. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_216"></a>216</span>“I don’t + think it was wrong, but I guess your mother wouldn’t be pleased to + hear about it,” observed Gertie sagely. + </p> + <p> + “She isn’t going to,” said Chicken Little with decision. + “I shall tell Father instead.” + </p> + <p> + Father only laughed. Mrs. Morton did not learn of it until the girls had + gone home to Centerville, when Chicken Little, wishing to convince her + that she could ride Caliph safely, let it out, and received the + long-delayed scolding. + </p> + <p> + Two days after the riding school, a letter came from Dick and Alice, + saying they would arrive Sunday and must leave for Centerville the + following Saturday. The same mail brought a letter for Sherm from his + mother, and another from Mrs. Dart to Dr. Morton. The doctor did not + mention the contents of his until the boy had finished reading his own. + Then he stepped over to his side and laid his hand gently upon his head. + Sherm was looking pretty sober. “Can you be content to be our boy + this winter, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, you’re mighty good to want me. I–I guess + there’s no college for me this winter. Father’s no better. I + wish–excuse me.” Sherm finished abruptly and bolted out of the + house. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked after him with some concern. She turned inquiringly + to her father. + </p> + <p> + “Poor lad,” he said in response to her look, “his <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_217"></a>217</span>father is no better–will + be a helpless invalid to the end, I judge, more from what Mrs. Dart doesn’t + say than from what she does. I’m afraid their affairs are in bad + shape. Dart’s illness must have cost enormously and they have had no + man to look after their business. She writes that Sue is to be married + quietly next month. She says they are sadly disappointed not to have Sherm + home for this event, but feel that he will be better off to stay with us + this winter, and she can hardly afford to have him come so far just for a + short visit. There is something sort of queer about the letter–something + mysterious, as if she were keeping the really important facts to herself. + See what you make of it, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + He handed the letter to Frank, who had just walked in with Jilly perched + on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little did not wait for Frank’s verdict, she slipped out the + door in search of Sherm. Her first guess was the stables and she made a + hurried survey of stalls and hay mow. He was not there. She tried the + orchard next, then the arbor. Perhaps he had taken one of the ponies and + gone for a ride. No, she remembered both Calico and Caliph had whinnied as + she went by their stalls. He might have walked down the lane. She went + clear to the ford and hunted among the trees for a short distance up and + down the bank. He was nowhere in sight. Coming back, she caught sight of + the tops of the <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_218"></a>218</span>Weeping + Willows and, remembering that Sherm sometimes went there Sundays with a + book, she stole up quietly. He had thrown himself down on the ground under + the interlacing branches. No, he was not crying–just lying perfectly + still, staring up into the boughs above him with such misery in his face, + it hurt her to see him. + </p> + <p> + She hardly knew what to do. She knew Ernest generally preferred to be let + alone when things went wrong, but then Ernest had never come up against + any real trouble. She suspected that Sherm’s was very real. Chicken + Little watched him for several minutes, undecided. He did not stir. + Finally, she decided she didn’t care whether Sherm wanted her round + or not, she wasn’t going to go off and leave him to grieve all + alone. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm,” she called softly. The boy raised up on his elbow. + “What do you want?” he asked rather gruffly. + </p> + <p> + His manner didn’t suggest any longing for her society, but she + persevered. “I won’t bother you but just a minute, Sherm, but + I’m awful sorry–about your father–and college and + everything.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm did not answer or look at her. The tender note of sympathy in her + voice was imperilling his self-control. He didn’t mean to play the + baby, especially before a girl. But the braver the boy was, the more + Chicken Little burned to comfort him. She <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_219"></a>219</span>stood for a moment staring at him helplessly, + the tears welling up into her own eyes. Then on a sudden impulse she + dropped down beside him, and before he could protest, began to stroke his + hair. Sherm tolerated the caressing fingers for a few minutes, but his + pride would not let him accept even this comforting. He dabbed his eyes + fiercely. “Don’t, Chicken Little, don’t! You’re a + trump to stand by a fellow this way. I am all right–I just got to + thinking about Father–and Sue’s going.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm would have carried it off beautifully if he hadn’t attempted a + smile, but his heart was too sore to quite manage that. The smile vanished + in a hasty gulp, and, burying his face on his arm, he had it out. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little’s eyes were redder than Sherm’s when she got up + to go back to the house. Sherm noticed her tear-stained appearance. + “Wait a minute,” he ordered bruskly. He ran down to the spring + stream just beyond the willows and soaking and rinsing out his + handkerchief, brought it dripping to her. “Mop your eyes, Jane, they + look awful. There–that’s better. I’ll be along pretty + soon!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had not considered it necessary to inform Katy and Gertie that + she had also written to their mother, asking if their visit might be + prolonged until the last of August. Mrs. Morton was firm in the opinion + that every detail of children’s <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_220"></a>220</span>lives should be settled by their elders for + their best good, and she expected the children to be properly thankful. + Her expectations had not always been realized with her own children–all + three having often very definite ideas of their own as to what they wanted + and what they didn’t want. But in this instance she was not + disappointed. The joy was general when Mrs. Halford wrote that the girls + might remain until the twenty-eighth, when a business friend of Mr. + Halford’s would be coming through Kansas City, and would meet the + girls there and bring them on home. To be sure, Gertie had a bad half hour + thinking how much longer it would be before she could see Mother, but she + soon forgot all this in the bustle of preparation for Alice and Dick. + </p> + <p> + Marian and Frank had arranged several excursions for their last days at + the ranch. They had seen fit to include the young folks in only one of + these–a day in town when they were to go to the old Mission and look + up some interesting Indian Mounds in the neighborhood. Captain Clarke was + to be of the party, and, true to his promise, insisted upon driving the + boys and girls in himself. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon Alice and Dick were expected, the girls were down the lane + watching for the first glimpse of the bay team, to greet them. They had + arrayed Jilly in white with a wreath of forget-me-nots on her blonde curls + and a small market basket <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_221"></a>221</span>full + of hollyhock blooms to scatter in the pathway of the expected guests. + Frank was responsible for the hollyhocks. Flowers were becoming scarce, it + had been so dry, and Chicken Little was bemoaning the fact that they could + hardly find enough to trim up the house. + </p> + <p> + “Hollyhocks, sure. There’s a whole hedge of them right at your + hand. Nothing could be more appropriate for returning honeymooners. + Further, they’re gaudy enough to compete with the two inches of dust + in the lane. If we don’t have rain pretty doggoned soon we won’t + have any crop.” + </p> + <p> + Both Mrs. Morton and Marian looked up anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t think—?” Marian hesitated. She did not + wish to burden Katy and Gertie with family worries. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think, not being in the weather man’s + confidence. But a rain inside of the next three days would mean hundreds + of dollars to the Morton family and the whole Eastern half of Kansas as + well.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little’s mind flew instantly to Ernest’s cherished + hopes. “Oh, can’t Ernest go to college if we don’t have + rain?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t bother your head, Chicken, we’ll find some way to + take care of Ernest. Go back to your decorations.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest and Sherm had spent the preceding evening <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_222"></a>222</span>erecting a + remarkable arch over the front gate with “Welcome to Our City” + done in charcoal letters a foot high on a strip of white paper cambric, + depending from it, and an American flag proudly floating above. The girls + completed this modest design by trimming up the gate posts with boughs. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton’s preparations were more practical. Three peach and + three custard pies crowded a chocolate cake and a pan of ginger cookies on + the lowest pantry shelf. The bread box lid would not shut, the box was so + full, and a whole boiled ham was cooling down at the spring house, not to + mention six dismembered spring chickens which had been offered up in place + of the regulation calf. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t mind if they had cooked two of the pigs,” + groaned Katy. They were giving their charges an extra big feed, being + fearful lest they should forget them in the excitement of the guests’ + arrival. + </p> + <p> + “Neither would I,” Chicken Little replied with a sigh. “I’m + sick of the sight of ’em!” + </p> + <p> + Gertie threw a carrot and hit the one time beauteous white one with the + curly tail, so smart a rap on his snout that he squealed his disapproval + while his relatives bagged the carrot. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care if I don’t get any money for my share of + ’em,” said Katy after a pause of disgusted contemplation of + the pigs. “I’d have to spend it <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_223"></a>223</span>for something useful like as not, or give some + of it to the heathens. Let’s give them back to your father.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d just as lief, only Frank and the boys would tease us + everlastingly if we backed out now–and we’ve worked so hard!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. I’d just as lief quit.” Gertie’s + discouraged expression was so funny that Chicken Little laughed and + Gertie, the patient, flared. She hated to be funny. + </p> + <p> + “Stop it–I am not going to help you feed those horrid pigs + another time, Chicken Little Jane Morton. I’ve just been doing it to + help you out. And I don’t think it’s a suitable occupation for + girls–or company!” Gertie climbed down from her perch on the + log pen and departed with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Humph, I guess I never asked you to help me. Besides, you expected + to get as much money as I did. You can just go off and sulk if you want + to.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t think that is a nice way to talk to your + guests.” Katy climbed down and departed to soothe her sister. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little whacked her heels against the logs and made a face at the + nearest pig to relieve her feelings. She loathed the creatures. She wished + she could wipe them off the face of the earth. Katy was half way to the + house when she had an inspiration. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_224"></a>224</span>“Katy!” she called eagerly, + “Katy, I’ve got an idea.” + </p> + <p> + Katy continued her way without glancing ’round. + </p> + <p> + “It’s something you’ll like.” + </p> + <p> + Katy wavered and unbent enough to ask: “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Come here and I’ll tell you. I’m not going to yell it.” + </p> + <p> + Katy considered and finally returned reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + When she came back to the pen, Chicken Little glanced round to make sure + that no one was about, to overhear, then, to make sure, whispered + excitedly into Katy’s ear. + </p> + <p> + Katy’s face lighted. “All right, let’s. Gertie won’t + care.” + </p> + <p> + They had entirely made up this slight unpleasantness by afternoon. Perched + on rocks under the shade of the cherry trees they waited impatiently for + Dick and Alice. Jilly had been coached in her little speech so often that + there was no doubt at all that she would get it wrong. She had been told + to say, “Welcome, Uncle Dick, welcome Auntie Alice.” She had + said it faultlessly three times already when approaching wheels started + them to their feet expectantly. They were disappointed by seeing a + neighbor drive round the bend in the lane. When the familiar bays did come + into view with their swinging trot, Jilly was so enchanted she started off + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_225"></a>225</span>pell mell to + meet them, spilling her blossoms out generously as she ran. The girls + overtook her before she quite got in the path of the horses and reminded + her of her responsibility. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton pulled up and Dick leaped to the ground, punctuating her + attempted “Weecome” by tossing her into the air and kissing + her noisily. + </p> + <p> + Jilly struggled free. Her coaching had not been in vain. + </p> + <p> + “Oo muttant–I ain’t said it, and oo pillin’ ve + fowers.” + </p> + <p> + Dick set the mite on her feet with exaggerated courtesy. “Of course–to + be sure. I beg your most humble pardon, Miss.” + </p> + <p> + Jilly drew in a long breath and began at the beginning again. She plunged + a fat hand into the market basket and aimed two hollyhock tops in the + general direction of Dick’s diaphragm, repeating impressively: + “Wee-come, Unky Dick.” She took no notice of his profound bow, + but looking up at Alice, who was leaning out the side of the seat watching + with amused eyes, she showered another handful upon the wheels and horses + hoofs impartially. “Wee-come, An-tee Alish,” she said + solemnly, then, with a rapturous look of triumph, turned to the girls for + approval. + </p> + <p> + She got it, with numerous hugs and kisses for interest. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_226"></a>226</span>Dick surveyed + the remainder of the reception committee critically. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, I hate to mention it, but is there anything left on + the ranch to eat? I have been a little nervous all the time we have been + away, remembering the execution Katy and Gertie and Sherm were doing when + we left and now—” He gazed sorrowfully at the girls’ + plump cheeks. “I know they have gained ten pounds apiece. Be frank + with me, Jane, is there anything left?” + </p> + <p> + “If there isn’t, Dick, you might commandeer one of Chicken + Little & Co.’s pigs. They are fat enough to sustain you for a + few hours,” replied Dr. Morton, glancing at the girls. + </p> + <p> + Katy and Jane also exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + Dick was quite overcome when he caught sight of the triumphal arch and the + flag. + </p> + <p> + “Support me, Chicken Little, this reception is so, ah, flattering it + makes me faint with emotion. Young ladies, Dr. Morton,” he placed + one hand over his heart and bowed low to each, “and esteemed—” + he hesitated, not seeing anyone but Jilly to include in this last + salutation, “esteemed fellows,” he bowed once more, including + trees, bushes, and any other objects handy, with a courtly sweep of the + arm, “it is with deepest gratitude I—” + </p> + <p> + “Heart-felt sounds better, Dick,” interrupted Alice, laughing. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_227"></a>227</span>Dick gazed at + her reproachfully. “’Tis always the way when I try to soar, my + wife seizes my kite by the tail and pulls it down with a jerk. I thought + lovely woman was supposed to inspire a man to higher—” + </p> + <p> + Dick was interrupted in the middle of his complaining by Mrs. Morton’s + coming out to greet them. + </p> + <p> + The next few days fairly flew by. Each member of both families had thought + of a variety of things that Alice and Dick must do before they went home. + Unfortunately, there were only twenty-four hours in a day and it seemed + necessary to spend part of these in sleep. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to have at least one more hunting party,” declared + Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + “We ought–I shall feel the lack of that hunting party for + years to come, Jane. There will be a vacuum in my inner consciousness. I + shall wake up in the middle of the night sighing for that hunting party. + But you see to-day is Wednesday, and we must leave Friday, and Frank and I + have sworn by every fish in the creek to take to-morrow off for a fishing + trip. Chicken Little, there is only one way out of the dilemma. Painful as + it will be for you, you’ll have to invite us to come again.” + </p> + <p> + The worst of it was that Frank firmly declined to take a single petticoat + along. Neither Marian nor Alice could move him from this ungallant + resolve. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_228"></a>228</span>“My + dear wife,” Frank replied, “I love you, but I don’t love + to have you round when I’m fishing.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Marian with decision, “if we can’t + go we won’t get them any lunch. Will we, Mother Morton?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was rather horrified at such a breach of hospitality, Dick and + Sherm being included in the boycott, but Marian and Alice both urged, and + she finally promised neither to get up a lunch herself nor to permit Annie + to. + </p> + <p> + Marian and Alice looked triumphant. Frank motioned to Dick and the two + promptly disappeared. Marian quickly followed. + </p> + <p> + “The villain! He’s gone over home to confiscate that batch of + doughnuts I baked this morning. I hope he doesn’t find them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton took the hint and locked up her pies and cake. But the two + boys and Dr. Morton had joined the foraging party and food disappeared + most mysteriously at intervals during the remainder of the day. A custard + pie already cut and served on plates on the kitchen table, reassembled + itself in the pie tin and walked out of the kitchen door when Annie + changed the plates in the dining room. One entire loaf of bread vanished + from the earth while Annie was trying to expel Ernest from the kitchen + with a broom. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_229"></a>229</span>The foragers + were so capable that even Mrs. Morton ceased to worry about the men folks + going hungry. + </p> + <p> + But Marian’s blood was up. “We’ve just got to do + something to get even. The best pool for fish on the whole creek is on + Captain Clarke’s land and I know they are not going there. Let’s + take the spring wagon and drive over and get the Captain to go fishing + with us. He’ll take us to his own pool and with him to help, I’d + be willing to wager we can beat these top-lofty fishermen at their own + game.” + </p> + <p> + Alice and the girls were instantly enthusiastic, but Mrs. Morton preferred + to stay at home and keep cool. + </p> + <p> + Marian and Chicken Little left the others to put up the lunch, while they + went out to the stable to hitch up the bays. They were soon on their way, + with a can of bait and a pocket full of fish hooks and stout cord to rig + up impromptu fishing lines, the men having taken all the poles with them. + </p> + <p> + The others had gone soon after daybreak. It was nearing ten when Marian + drove up to the Captain’s hitching post. + </p> + <p> + “What if he isn’t at home?” said Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + “He’s got to be,” laughed Marian. + </p> + <p> + Wing Fan came out, grinning. He did not share his master’s reputed + dislike for ladies. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_230"></a>230</span>He ushered + them all into the big library and went off to notify the Captain, who was + down in the meadow superintending the hay cutting. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we are an awful nuisance, but my prophetic soul tells + me he will enjoy the joke and be pleased to have us come to him.” + Marian was bolstering up her courage. + </p> + <p> + “Of course he will. You don’t suppose anybody could resist + this crowd, do you?” Alice encouraged. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke was both pleased and amused. They were so excited they all + talked at once, and it took several minutes for him to get command of the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “They have the advantage in fishing early in the day, but I’ll + impress Wing Fan and we’ll have more fish, if I have to get out a + net and seine them. We’ll go down to the long hole now and see what + we can do, and Wing will come as soon as he gives the men their dinner. If + there is a fish in the creek you can depend on Wing to lure him. He just + goes out and crooks his little finger and they begin to hunt for the hook,” + he explained to Gertie. + </p> + <p> + The Captain proved to be an expert fisherman himself. He showed them all + his little stock of fisherman’s tricks and they had a good catch by + noon when Marian and Alice stopped to prepare the lunch. About two o’clock + Wing Fan appeared, his face one broad, yellow smile. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_231"></a>231</span>“Big + missee and little missee have most,” he assured them. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little and Katy and Gertie laid off and perched some distance up + the bank behind Wing to watch his methods. He didn’t seem to do + anything different, but the fish certainly came to his hook in a most + astonishing manner. + </p> + <p> + They fished until four, and the catch exceeded their wildest expectations. + They wanted to leave some with the Captain, but he wouldn’t hear of + it. “If the men have more than you, you can send me some of theirs. + I should like to see if the flavor is better.” + </p> + <p> + They expected their fishermen to drift in about five, and knew they would + bring their fish to the house to display them before taking them down to + the spring stream. Hurrying home, they put away the team and took their + fish down to the spring house. Captain Clarke had saved a considerable + part of their take alive for them, in a wooden cask, which Wing carefully + loaded into the spring wagon. They got a piece of chicken wire and + fastened it across the opening where the water flowed out underneath the + spring house, and then, removing the milk and butter crocks from the + rock-lined channel, turned all the living fish into the water. The others + they spread out on the rock floor to make the best showing possible. The + spring house seemed alive with fish. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_232"></a>232</span>“They’ll + never beat that!” Alice’s eyes were dancing. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how they can.” Marian chuckled. “My + lofty spouse will have to come down off his high horse this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t breathe a word, girls. I don’t want them to have + the least inkling of what we have been up to, till they see this array.” + </p> + <p> + The fishermen arrived, hot, dusty, and hungry. After all their efforts, + their supplies had hardly kept pace with their appetites. They displayed + their booty proudly. Frank had three trout and five catfish on his string. + Dick, one trout, and three catfish. Dr. Morton and the boys had pooled + theirs, and boasted twelve altogether. But most of the fish were small. + The ladies obligingly went into ecstasies over their skill. Chicken Little + and Katy admired and ohed and ahed until Marian was afraid they would + rouse suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want them all here at the house or shall we put part of them + down at the spring?” Frank asked, with emphasis on the all. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, since there are so many, perhaps you’d better put some + away for breakfast,” Marian replied, after an instant’s + consideration. + </p> + <p> + Frank, Dick and the boys started for the spring. The three girls rose to + accompany them. Alice and Marian looked languidly uninterested. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_233"></a>233</span>The spring + house was very dark and shadowy, coming in from the bright sunshine + outside. Frank was in the lead. He stopped just in time to avoid stepping + on a fish. He and Dick got their eyes focused to take in the display at + almost the same instant. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll be darned!” Frank looked at Dick in wild + amaze. Dick stared, speechless, for fully twenty seconds. Then he broke + into a roar. The boys, a few paces behind them, rushed in to see what the + fun was. Ernest took one good look over Frank’s shoulder. “Jumping + Jehosaphat!” he ejaculated, making room for Sherm. Sherm gazed his + fill and glanced at Frank. + </p> + <p> + Dick came to first and hazarded a guess. “The ladies–God bless + ’em–they’ve been to town and bought out a market.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, there isn’t a fish market in the burg–men + sometimes peddle fish round at the houses, but they never get out here. + They’ve been fishing on their own hook.” + </p> + <p> + Dick turned on Chicken Little, who was watching them demurely. “If + you don’t tell us how you worked this I’ll—” He + advanced threateningly. + </p> + <p> + “Fished,” she replied laconically. And neither coaxing nor + threats extracted any further information from the ladies that evening. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_234"></a>234</span>After supper + Marian remarked carelessly: “Frank, there are more fish than we can + use, don’t you think it would be nice to send some over to the + Captain?” + </p> + <p> + But it was Marian herself who finally let the cat out of the bag the + following morning just before Alice and Dick left. The train would not + leave until evening, but they were all going in to make a tour of the + Indian remains and to do some shopping. Frank was driving for the guests + and Marian; the youngsters were with the Captain. Marian reached down + under the seat to push a satchel out of the way of her feet, and to her + surprise, came in painful contact with a fish hook. She pulled up a bunch + of line and several hooks. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wondered what became of our lines,” she said + carelessly. “Wing must have put them in for us.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up to find both Dick and Frank regarding her with interest and + Alice looking reproachful. + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” remarked Dick, gazing at the heavens thoughtfully, + “I see a great light.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew they’d let it out,” Frank replied meanly. + “Women are clever, but a secret is too many for them every time.” + </p> + <p> + The day was cloudy but sultry. Collars wilted and little damp spots + appeared between their shoulder <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_235"></a>235</span>blades if they ventured to lean against the + backs of the seats. + </p> + <p> + Leaves were curling in the corn fields; the prairies were parched with the + heat. Frank got out and examined several of the ears of corn just heading + out in a field they passed. + </p> + <p> + He looked sober when he returned. “Forty-eight hours more like + to-day will finish that field. It’s a trifle better on the bottom + lands.” + </p> + <p> + Marian and Alice scanned the heavens. “That cloud bank off to the + south looks hopeful,” said Marian after several minutes’ + silence. + </p> + <p> + Whether it was the weather or their unusual exertions of the preceding day + or the menace of the drouth, that weighed upon them, it would be hard to + say, but their interest in the Old Mission and the Indian mound on the + Cook place was languid. Perhaps Ernest had been right when he declared + that they were more interesting to hear about than to see. “It looks + just like other houses, only the walls are thicker and the stone chimneys + go clear down to the ground outside!” Katy exclaimed, distinctly + disappointed at the appearance of the one-time fort. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it was just a schoolhouse. They used it for a fort + because it was stronger than any of the other houses, and, being all of + stone, the Indians couldn’t set it on fire so easy.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian mound looked as if somebody had <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_236"></a>236</span>made a nice symmetrical sand pile about twenty + feet high out in the middle of the prairie and then grassed it over + neatly. + </p> + <p> + “If we could cut into it after the fashion of a birthday cake,” + said Captain Clarke, “you would find some very interesting things + inside, I imagine, weapons and iron utensils. I should think Mr. Cook + would take the trouble to explore it some day.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess he isn’t interested in anything unless he sees a + dollar close by,” Ernest replied. + </p> + <p> + They had dinner at the one decently kept hotel in Garland, and scattered + along the comfortable veranda afterwards to rest and cool off. + </p> + <p> + Ernest pointed out the place near the top of the bluff where a dark spot + in the rocky ledge revealed the location of the hermit’s cave. + “Who is ready for the climb?” he asked, rejoining the others. + </p> + <p> + “I pass,” said Dick from the depths of a willow porch chair. + </p> + <p> + “And I,” Marian echoed. + </p> + <p> + “I am just dying to go, Ernest, but it wouldn’t be proper for + me to desert my liege Lord.” Alice shot a mischievous glance at the + occupant of the willow chair. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t think of leaving our guests,” Frank stopped + smoking long enough to say. + </p> + <p> + “Put it to a vote, Ernest, and save us the trouble of inventing + excuses,” remarked the Captain dryly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_237"></a>237</span>“Resolved–That + we stay right where we are until train time. All in favor—” He + was not permitted to continue. A chorus of “Ayes” drowned him + out, the Captain leading. + </p> + <p> + And they stayed until train time. + </p> + <p> + “What is it,” queried Ernest as they started homeward, “about + a railroad train that makes one so crazy to go along?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it the train, or merely your love of adventure?” suggested + Captain Clarke. + </p> + <p> + “I think it’s because a train always seems so–oh, jolly–and + exciting,” ventured Katy. + </p> + <p> + “That’s only part,” said Chicken Little, who had been + studying; “it’s wondering what’s at the other end of the + track that tempts you so.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, I know what’s at the other end of this track and it + tempts me like sixty.” + </p> + <p> + “Home?” Katy and Jane asked together. + </p> + <p> + “No, supper!” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0237.jpg" id="img030" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_13"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_238"></a>238</span> + <img src="images/p0238.jpg" id="img031" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + CHICKEN LITTLE AND ERNEST + </h2> + <p> + The household was awakened in the middle of the night by peals of thunder + and the rush of rain against the windows. Chicken Little was drenched + before she could get the window down next their bed. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care,” she said, as she hunted out a dry gown, + “it’s raining and Ernest can go to college.” + </p> + <p> + They slept late the following morning. The rain was coming down in a + steady, business-like way that gladdened the heart of every farmer on the + creek. Dr. Morton was jubilant. + </p> + <p> + “This will save the corn and make thousands of dollars difference in + the hay yield in the country,” he remarked at the breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I don’t like about farming,” said + Ernest. “So much depends on things that you can’t <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_239"></a>239</span>help. A man can + work like a dog, and along comes a drouth or chinch bugs or too much rain + during the haying season and, presto, all his fond hopes are knocked sky + high.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied his father, “I guess there are mighty + few businesses or professions where you don’t have to take chances. + By the way, Son, I’m beginning to be afraid your hopes of Annapolis + may be disappointed. I don’t understand why Senator Pratt ignores my + letter this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Father, Captain Clarke heard at the hotel + yesterday that Senator Pratt has been seriously ill for several weeks, but + they’ve been keeping it quiet. They say he’s just beginning to + take up his affairs again.” + </p> + <p> + “We may hear then in a day or two. I believe I’ll go to town + to-day–it’s too wet to do any work.” + </p> + <p> + The day dragged for the young people indoors. They tried dominoes and + authors, but the boys soon found these tame and settled down by themselves + to chess as more worthy of a masculine intellect. + </p> + <p> + The rain ceased and the sun came out about two o’clock. Gertie was + in the midst of a letter home, but Katy and Chicken Little hurried + outdoors into the moist, fresh air joyfully. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go get some of those summer sweetings. I’m hungry + for an apple. My, doesn’t the air taste good?” Chicken Little + was taking deep breaths. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_240"></a>240</span>They picked + their way daintily to avoid the wet weeds and high grass. The sky once + more serene, receded in deep bays above the arches of foliage. Every now + and then a bird, startled by their coming, flew out from the branches + overhead, sending down showers of drops on their hair and shoulders. + </p> + <p> + They found the sweeting tree and Chicken Little soon had an apron full. It + was too wet to linger and they had started back, when Chicken Little + stopped still and made a wry face. “Katy Halford, we haven’t + fed those pigs!” + </p> + <p> + “No sir, we haven’t!” + </p> + <p> + “Say, this would be an awful good time to do it–everything’s + so wet, we could loosen one of the stones easy. And I guess they’ll + do the rest fast enough.” + </p> + <p> + “If we don’t give ’em much to eat they’ll want to + get out worse.” + </p> + <p> + The days since Alice’s and Dick’s coming had been so full they + had found no opportunity to carry out Jane’s scheme for ridding + themselves gracefully of their burdensome boarders. Katy had explained the + plan to Gertie, who heartily endorsed it. She went back to the house after + her now, while Chicken Little began scouting to see if there were anyone + about. The coast seemed clear. Jim Bart had gone to look after the pasture + fences, and Marian told her that Ernest and Sherm had taken the + wheelbarrow and started to the south field after a load of <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_241"></a>241</span>watermelons. + “They’ll be back in half an hour if you want them for + anything, Jane.” + </p> + <p> + Jane didn’t want them for anything: she merely wanted them safely + out of the way. + </p> + <p> + She sped back to the house. “Hurry, girls, everybody’s gone, + and Marian’s putting Jilly to sleep in the bedroom on the other side + of the cottage, so she won’t see us. I’ll go get the milk and + those pea pods Annie saved.” + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie undertook the feeding, while Chicken Little went to the + tool house for pick and spade. The log pig pen was merely one corner of + the big hog corral, fenced off for the benefit of the new litters to + protect them from the older hogs. Stones had been securely embedded + underneath the lowest rail to keep the pigs from burrowing out beneath. + Chicken Little went into the corral and inspected these, carefully trying + one or two with the pick. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s one that isn’t very big and it’s loose at + one corner. Let’s try it.” + </p> + <p> + The stone had been put there to stay and did not yield readily. Jane dug + till she was tired, then Katy took a hand. Gertie had been posted as a + sentinel where she could watch the road. + </p> + <p> + They strained and tugged, but the stone was obstinate. Jane was getting + red in the face. + </p> + <p> + “The old hateful—I’ll get it out or bust!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_242"></a>242</span>“Perhaps + I can help you, Chicken Little.” + </p> + <p> + The girls glanced up in dismay. Sherm stood there grinning. He had come + back across lots. + </p> + <p> + “What you trying to do, anyhow? Have your pets been getting out?” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to do but take Sherm into their confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Please promise you won’t tell, Sherm–they’d tease + me to death if they know. But we’re sick of those pigs. I never want + to lay eyes on a pig again. So we thought we’d just loosen a stone + so they could get into the corral with the others and Father’d think + they’d dug out themselves. Nobody can ever pick ’em out from + the others. They are every bit as big as old Whity’s pigs and Father + turned them in two weeks ago.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm chuckled. “Mum’s the word. Hand over the pick and we’ll + do such an artistic job that the porkers themselves will think they are + responsible for the whole business. I don’t blame you. That’s + not girl’s work!” + </p> + <p> + The pigs rose to the occasion beautifully. The tiny opening called as + loudly as a pile of corn. They continued the excavating so promptly and + expeditiously that by the time Dr. Morton returned from town, every piglet + had deserted its maternal ancestor and was joyously rooting for itself in + the corral. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_243"></a>243</span>“I don’t + see how those pigs got out,” said Dr. Morton disgustedly. “I + thought that small pen was secure.” + </p> + <p> + The girls listened attentively. + </p> + <p> + “They were there at four o’clock, I saw them,” Sherm + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose the heavy rain loosened the earth and it was easy + rooting.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” said Sherm. + </p> + <p> + The incident might have awakened more interest if the Doctor had not + returned, bringing a fateful letter. The long-expected letter from Senator + Pratt had come. He would be most happy to give Ernest the appointment + immediately, if he thought he could pass the mental examinations. An extra + examination was to be held on the 30th at Annapolis. He was sending a + catalogue and some special literature as to the ground to be covered, by + the same mail. He would, however, recommend that Ernest go immediately to + some reputable physician and see if he could pass the physical + examination. They had a naval surgeon there in Topeka, if he cared to + incur the expense of a visit to the Capital. + </p> + <p> + Ernest was so busy poring over the catalogue that he could hardly be + induced to stop long enough to eat his supper. + </p> + <p> + “I’m more afraid of the mathematics than anything else. I + wonder if I couldn’t get Prof. Smith <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_244"></a>244</span>to coach me. I could study all week and go in + Saturdays to recite.” + </p> + <p> + “The first thing to do is to get that doctor’s certificate. We’ll + go to town to-morrow and have Dr. Hardy look you over, and if he doesn’t + find anything suspicious, we’ll run down to Topeka to see the + surgeon and call on the senator at the same time. I think I could go + Monday.” + </p> + <p> + The entire family held its breath or at least tried to, for the next few + days. Mrs. Morton quite forgot how badly she had wanted Ernest to have an + education, when she learned that he could only come home once a year, and + then only for a short month. She sighed so much and was so distraught, + that the family were almost afraid to rejoice with Ernest, when he came + home jubilantly waving his physician’s certificate. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Mother, that surgeon may send me packing. Don’t + worry till you are sure I’m going. Even if I am vouched for as up to + the scratch physically, I may flunk, alas! Wouldn’t that be nice + after Father had put up a lot of money to send me on? You’d be + ashamed of me, Mother, you wouldn’t want to see me come home.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not expecting you to fail, son,” said Dr. Morton, + “though I wish we could have arranged matters sooner to give you + more time for review. But with the exception of a little extra + mathematics, <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_245"></a>245</span>the + requirements are certainly no worse than for college entrance exams. And + you’ve tested yourself out twice on those. Aren’t you glad I + insisted on more geometry?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t need to come home if he does fail. He can visit + some of our friends in Centerville till college opens. It would only be a + few days,” Frank consoled him. “However, I am not expecting + you to fail, old boy. I have always flattered myself that the Morton + family are not lacking in brains, and you know how to study.” + </p> + <p> + “I most wish he would fail so he could come to see us. Mother would + love to have him spend the Christmas vacations with us,” put in Katy + naïvely. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Katy, I’d enjoy nothing better, but I’ve + kinder set my heart on showing this naval outfit that a wild and woolly + Kansan can measure up with some of those down-easters.” + </p> + <p> + The naval surgeon confirmed Dr. Hardy’s judgment. The senator had + been cordial, and after some questioning, said he would send Ernest’s + name to the department immediately. He also gave him some helpful + suggestions as to what subjects to put the emphasis on. + </p> + <p> + Two weeks seemed a pretty short time for preparation. Ernest thanked his + lucky star that he had done a little studying through the summer in + preparation for his college entrance, and was not rusty. <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_246"></a>246</span>The entire family + waited on him and followed him round till Frank declared they would ruin + the boy, if he didn’t get off soon. Chicken Little sadly neglected + her guests whenever it was possible to hang round Ernest. But Ernest was + so busy, she seldom had a word alone with him. The two were very dear to + each other despite their occasional bickering, and Chicken Little was + almost jealous of every one who came near him during those last few days. + </p> + <p> + “Ernest,” said his father the Saturday before his departure, + “will you take one farewell turn at herding to-morrow? Jim Bart + wants to get off for the day and I’d like to have the cattle clean + off that stubble field. I think I will plow early and put it in winter + wheat this year. I have promised to drive Mother and the girls to town to + church in the morning. We are to have dinner with the parson and won’t + be home until evening.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Ernest overtook Chicken Little coming up from the spring with + the butter and cream. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Sis, don’t you want to stay home and help me herd + to-morrow? The girls wouldn’t mind this once.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’d love it. We just haven’t had a good talk for + ages–but I don’t know what Mother’ll say.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll fix Mother,” he answered confidently. + </p> + <p> + Later, he whispered: “It’s all O. K.” + </p> + <p> + “Gee, I guess Mother’d give you the moon if she <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_247"></a>247</span>could, she feels so + bad about having you go so far away.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Mother, it’s mighty rough on her out here on the ranch. + Say, Sis, I don’t mind if you want to wear some of my old truck + to-day–we’ll just be down in the field and your riding skirt + will be a nuisance in among the cattle.” + </p> + <p> + This was a mighty concession for Ernest, who had a considerable share of + his mother’s respect for the conventions. Chicken Little appreciated + it. + </p> + <p> + She reached up and gave him a big hug. + </p> + <p> + “It’s going to be awful hard to have you go, Ernest.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest didn’t say anything in reply, but he squeezed his young + sister tight, as if he were realizing himself that he was about to miss + something precious from his life. + </p> + <p> + The two were up early the next morning and off with the herd before the + rest of the family were fairly through breakfast. Sherm was going in with + the others to church. Annie had put up a lunch for Ernest and Jane; they + did not expect to get back to the house until late afternoon. + </p> + <p> + The day was an August masterpiece, warm, but not too warm, with a fresh + breeze blowing and shreds of blue haze lingering over the timber along the + creek. + </p> + <p> + “It has almost a fall feel,” said Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_248"></a>248</span>A brisk + half-hour’s work, in which Huz and Buz took an active part, + hindering rather more than helping in the cattle driving, was sufficient + to transfer the herd from the pasture to the stubble field. Chicken Little + was thankful she had discarded her skirt, for they had many a chase after + refractory animals through the timber and underbrush. Calico and Caliph, + being mustangs, seemed to enjoy the sport as much as their riders. + </p> + <p> + “Cricky, Caliph is almost human when it comes to heading off a + steer, and he’s never done much cattle driving either. He must have + inherited the range instinct.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph, what about Calico?” retorted Jane. “He turned + that roan Father always says is so mean, three times.” + </p> + <p> + The cattle scattered over the stubble eagerly. Ernest picketed the ponies + so they could graze after their good work and he and Chicken Little threw + themselves down under a red bud tree near the edge of the field to rest. + </p> + <p> + “They won’t stray much till they get their stomachs full,” + said Ernest, “and that won’t be before afternoon. I brought a + book along–Cooper’s ‘Naval History.’ It’s + great, though Father says it’s better romance than history. Do you + mind if I read you a bit?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little backed up against a tree and settled <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_249"></a>249</span>herself comfortably + and they were soon fighting with Paul Jones, so utterly absorbed that the + herd had drifted down to the farther end of the field before they realized + it. A half dozen adventurous beasts were already disappearing into the + timber, apparently headed for the Captain’s cornfield, which lay + just beyond the creek. + </p> + <p> + “The pesky brutes! Why can’t they be content with a good + square meal at home?” Ernest hated to be interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps they like to go visiting as much as we do. Besides, they + don’t often have a chance at green corn.” + </p> + <p> + It took some time to recover the truants. By the time they were settled + once more under the tree, the sun was nearing the zenith and they were + growing hungry. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only half past eleven, but I’m starved. Let’s + eat now.” Ernest eyed the packet of luncheon hungrily. + </p> + <p> + “All right, go fill the water jug, and I’ll get it out.” + </p> + <p> + After lunch they read for awhile, but, presently, the sun seemed to grow + hotter and they commenced to feel drowsy. They decided to take turns + watching the cattle and napping. The cattle also seemed to feel the heat + and were hunting patches of shade, lying down to chew their cuds + contentedly. The <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_250"></a>250</span>air + seemed palpitating with the incessant humming and whirring of insects. + Bees, and white and yellow butterflies flittered in a mat of weeds and + wild blackberry vines, which had entirely covered an angle of the old rail + fence near them. + </p> + <p> + Ernest’s nap was a long one. The boy had been studying hard for his + examinations and was thoroughly tired. He was lying on his side, his face + resting on his hand, and his old straw hat drawn over his face to keep off + the flies. But the nagging insects soon discovered his neck and hands. + Chicken Little fished his bandanna out of his pocket to protect his neck, + covering the hand that lay on the grass with her own handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + He woke at length with a start, smiling up at Chicken Little when he + discovered the handkerchiefs. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Sis. Whew, I must have slept for keeps,” he added, + glancing at the sun. “It’s four o’clock. The folks will + be along about six.” + </p> + <p> + He sat up and took a survey of the field. The cattle were all quiet. + Chicken Little was braiding little baskets with a handful of cat tail + leaves she had brought from the slough. Ernest reached over and patted the + busy fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Sis, I’m mighty fond of you–do you know it?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked up at him affectionately. “I suspected it, + Ernest,” she answered demurely. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_251"></a>251</span>The boy was + going on with his own thoughts. “I’m mighty glad to get away + from the ranch. I don’t believe I’m cut out for this sort of + thing. Guess, maybe, I’m not democratic enough–you remember + that party at Jenkins’? Well, I’ve been thinking about it a + good deal since. I guess Sherm sort of set me to thinking with his fuss + about the kissing games. At any rate, I’ve made up my mind I don’t + intend to be like any of the boys on this creek, and I don’t propose + that you shall be like any of the girls if I can help it. It isn’t + that they aren’t smart enough and good enough. The people round here + are mighty touchy about one person’s being just as good as another. + Maybe one person is born just as good as anybody else, but, thank + goodness, they don’t all stay alike. I mayn’t be any better + than the Craft boys, but I know I’m a sight cleaner, and I don’t + murder the king’s English quite every other word, and I know enough + to be polite to a lady. And if I take the trouble to make myself decent, + and they don’t, I don’t see any reason why I should be + expected to pretend they’re as good as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest was waxing wroth. The insistent equality of the Creek was on his + nerves. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care if people do think I’m stuck up–I’m + going to try to associate with the kind of people I like. It isn’t + money–it’s just nice living. If it wasn’t for people + like the Captain and one or two <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_252"></a>252</span>others we’d forget what lady and + gentleman meant. And that isn’t saying that there aren’t lots + of good kind people on the Creek, too. But they’re so dead satisfied + with themselves the way they are–they don’t seem to know there + is any better way to live.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was listening eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you mean. Lots of it’s little things. I noticed + that night at the Jenkins’. Mamie’s prettier than me and the + boys like her better, but I don’t want to be like her all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think not, Chicken Little, and you needn’t worry. + You’re nothing but a kid yet, but by the time you’re eighteen, + Mamie Jenkins won’t hold a candle to you. And while I think of it, + Sis, the less you see of Mamie the better. And I don’t want you + playing any more kissing games–you’re too big.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph, you just said I was nothing but a kid. You’re as bad + as Mother.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest was not to be diverted. “None of your dodging. I want you to + promise me you won’t.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little considered. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t that I want to play them,” she argued, “but + if I don’t, I’ll have to sit and look on and all the old folks’ll + ask me if I’m not well, and the girls’ll say I’m stuck + up. It wasn’t as easy as you seem to think, Ernest Morton, but I’ll + promise, if you’ll promise not to kiss any girl while you’re + gone.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_253"></a>253</span>“Nonsense, + Jane, you don’t understand. It’s different with a boy.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little fixed her brown eyes upon Ernest’s face musingly. + </p> + <p> + “How is it different?” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little Jane Morton, haven’t you had any raising? You + know as well as I do it isn’t nice for a girl to let boys kiss her.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little considered. “You needn’t be so toploftical; + girls don’t want most boys to kiss ’em.” + </p> + <p> + “Most?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I said. I hated it when Grant kissed me at Mamie’s + party, but I don’t know that I’d mind if Sherm—” + </p> + <p> + She got no further. Ernest bristled with brotherly indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Has Sherm ever—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, Sherm wouldn’t! I guess it’s because I + know he wouldn’t, that I shouldn’t much mind if he did.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little said this soberly, but her face grew a little red. + </p> + <p> + Ernest’s brotherly eyes were observant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sherm’s all right, but Sis, I want that promise.” + </p> + <p> + “I told you I’d promise if you would.” Chicken Little + drew her lips together in a firm way. + </p> + <p> + “But I can’t–it would be silly–I might look <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_254"></a>254</span>ridiculous sometime + if I refused. The fellows would guy me if they knew I made such a promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I just told you they’d guy me if I refused to do what + the others do.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Chicken Little, it isn’t nice.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I know that as well as you do. And I don’t know that + I shall ever play that kind of games again, but I’m not going to + promise if you won’t. Boys don’t need to think they can do + everything they want to, just because they’re boys. You don’t + want anybody to kiss me, but I’d like to know how you are going to + kiss a girl without making somebody else’s sister do something that + isn’t nice, Ernest Morton.” + </p> + <p> + The discussion ended there. Ernest was not very worldly wise himself, and + Chicken Little’s reasoning was certainly logical. + </p> + <p> + They had but little time to talk after that. The cattle began to roam + restlessly once more and they were in the saddle pretty constantly for the + remainder of the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Ernest took the trouble to lift her down from Calico when they reached the + stable that evening, an unusual attention. He also gave her a shy kiss on + the cheek and whispered: “I’ll promise, Sis. I don’t + know but you are about half right.” + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_14"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_255"></a>255</span> + <img src="images/p0255.jpg" id="img032" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + OFF TO ANNAPOLIS + </h2> + <p> + “Golly, I sha’n’t have any fingers left by the time I + finish this needle case! King’s excuse, Katy, you needn’t + mind. I know I said it, but if you tried to push a needle through this + awful leather and pricked yourself every other stitch you’d say + Golly, too.” Chicken Little edged off as she saw Katy approaching. + </p> + <p> + Katy was not to be deterred. “You said to pinch you every single + time, Jane Morton, and you’ve said it twice. Besides, your mother + said she hoped I could cure you.” Katy gave Chicken Little’s + arm two vigorous pinches to emphasize this statement. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little did not take this kindly office in the spirit in which it + was intended. She hated to sew and she had been toiling all morning on a + little bronze leather case to hold needles, buttons, and pins–a + parting gift to Ernest. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_256"></a>256</span>“Katy + Halford, I told you not to! I think you are real mean to do it when I’m + having such a hard time. I’ll thank you not to any more, if I do say + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t need to go and get mad! You told me to.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I just now told you not to!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you’d say King’s excuse every time if I’d + let you. A lot of good it’s going to do, if you sneak out of it + whenever you want to.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t sneak out of it–this is the very first time, + and you know it!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know any such thing, but I don’t think it’s + very good manners to be telling your guests they’re saying something + that isn’t so! The day before they’re going home, too!” + Katy forgot the dignity of her fifteen years. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think it’s quite as good manners as to tell your + friends they’re sneaks!” Jane’s tone was icy. + </p> + <p> + Gertie came between the belligerents. “Please don’t quarrel, + girls. It’d be dreadful the very last day, after we have had such a + beautiful summer. I never did have such a good time in all my life. I most + wish I could live on a ranch always.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t like to live on a ranch, but we have had a jolly + time, Chicken Little,” Katy recovered herself enough to say + graciously. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_257"></a>257</span>Chicken + Little was not to be outdone. “I suppose I was ugly, Katy. It always + makes me cross to sew. I wish nobody had ever invented needles. O dear, I + shall be as lonesome as pie when you are gone. It isn’t much fun + being the only girl on the ranch, I tell you. Sometimes, I don’t + even see another girl for weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “But your school begins soon, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I’ll have Sherm. I just don’t believe I could + bear to have Ernest go if Sherm wasn’t going to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m awful glad Mr. Lenox put off coming for another day so we + can go on the same train with Ernest.” Katy had been exulting over + this for the past twenty-four hours. + </p> + <p> + “Ernest will be on the train for three days. I feel as if he would + be as far away as if he were going to China.” + </p> + <p> + Their conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Morton’s entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Would you rather have chocolate or cocoanut cake for your lunch, + girls? Annie has killed three chickens, and I thought you could take a + basket of those big yellow peaches; I only wish I could send some to your + mother. And I’ll put in cheese and cold-boiled ham and a glass of + current jelly. Mr. Lenox may want to get a meal or two at the stations, + but you are so hurried at these–and it’s always well <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_258"></a>258</span>to have plenty of + lunch in traveling. Dr. Morton told Ernest that he’d better get all + his breakfasts at the eating houses to have something hot. And by the + third day his lunch will be too stale–even if there is any left.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest was creepy with excitement between joy at going and his haunting + fear that he might disgrace the family by failing to pass the + examinations. + </p> + <p> + “Buck up, old chap,” Frank admonished, “you’ve got + facts enough in your head if you can only get them out at the right time. + My advice is to forget all about exams and enjoy your trip. One doesn’t + go to Washington and Baltimore every day. You ought to have several hours + in St. Louis if your train is on time. Be sure to eat three square meals + every day and keep yourself as fresh as you can and I’ll back you to + pass any fair test.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have time in St. Louis I want you to be sure to go and see + Shaw’s Gardens. They used to be wonderful and they must have been + greatly improved since I saw them,” said Mrs. Morton. + </p> + <p> + Each individual member of the Morton family, except Jilly and Huz and Buz, + took Ernest aside for a parting chat with advice and remembrances. Jilly + and the dogs secured their share by getting in the way as often as + possible. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had her turn first. She tendered the needle case + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_259"></a>259</span>“Mother + said you would have to sew on your own buttons at the Academy and that you’d + find this mighty handy, but I’d loathe to have anybody give me such + a present. And, Ernest, here’s the five dollars I got last birthday. + You take it and buy something you really want.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest demurred about accepting the money, but Jane insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Little Sis, you’re sure a dear—” Ernest found + himself choking up most unaccountably. He gave her a good old-fashioned + hug in conclusion to save himself the embarrassment of words. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton took his son into the parlor and closed the door immediately + after dinner. They stayed an hour, during which time the Doctor gave + Ernest much practical advice about his conduct and sundry warnings not to + be extravagant or careless in handling his money. No sooner had they + emerged, Ernest looking important and rather dazed, when his mother laid + her hand upon his arm, saying: “My son, I also wish to have a little + talk with you. We shall be hurried in the morning so perhaps we would + better have it now.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest returned to the parlor with his mother. Chicken Little lay in wait + outside in the hall. She and Katy had a beautiful plan for a last boat + ride that afternoon. She knew Ernest would be going over to say good-bye + to the Captain anyway. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_260"></a>260</span>Chicken + Little waited and yawned and waited and squirmed for a solid hour and a + quarter. The steady hum of her mother’s voice was interrupted + occasionally by brief replies from Ernest. At last, Chicken Little heard a + movement and roused herself joyously. But her mother began to speak again–this + time with reverent solemnity. Chicken Little forgot herself and listened a + moment. + </p> + <p> + “Umn, I guess she’s praying–they must be most through. + Golly, I bet Ernest’s tired!” + </p> + <p> + When the door opened a moment later there were tears on Mrs. Morton’s + lashes and Ernest looked sober. He held a handsome Oxford bible in his + hand. Mrs. Morton glanced at Jane suspiciously, but passed on into the + sitting room. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little surveyed her brother wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “Did Mother give you a new bible?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had one.” + </p> + <p> + “Got two–Mother forgot, I s’pose.” + </p> + <p> + “Bet you’d rather have had a new satchel–that bible must + have cost a lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I would, but don’t you dare let on to Mother. I wouldn’t + hurt her feelings for a farm! She’s awful good, but she doesn’t + understand how a fellow feels about things. I’d rather be licked any + day than prayed over. I guess if I attended all the ‘means of grace’ + she wants me to, I wouldn’t have <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_261"></a>261</span>any time left for lessons. I’m going to + try all-fired hard not to do anything to hurt Mother or make her ashamed + of me, but I’m not calculating to wear out the pews at prayer + meetings–not so you’d notice it.” Ernest grinned at + Chicken Little defiantly. + </p> + <p> + Jane replied soberly: + </p> + <p> + “A prayer meeting’s a real treat to Mother. She hasn’t + had a chance to go to one for so long she is just pining for the + privilege, but I bet she didn’t feel that way when she was young! + But she thinks she did, so there’s no use fussing.” + </p> + <p> + Marian’s admonition to Ernest was brief and to the point. She stood + him up against the wall and looked him so squarely in the eyes that she + could see her own reflection in the pupils. Ernest’s six feet of + vigorous youth was good to look at. His hazel eyes gazed back at her + steadfastly. Marian smiled up at him. + </p> + <p> + “Ernest Morton, I’m downright proud to be your sister, and if + you can look me in the eye as fearlessly and unashamed when you come home, + I shall be still prouder. I want to tell you something I overheard in a + store the other day about Father. Some men were evidently discussing him + in connection with a business deal, and one remarked emphatically: ‘Old + man Morton may have his weaknesses like the rest of us humans, but his + word’s as good as his bond any day, and there’s precious few + men you can say <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_262"></a>262</span>that + of.’ It’s worth while to have that sort of a father, Ernest, + but it makes the Morton name somewhat of a responsibility to live up to, + doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Marian gave him a pat and pulled his head down to kiss him. + </p> + <p> + Katy and Gertie had been busy all day with their own preparations for + departure. Marian was helping them with their packing, because Mrs. Morton + had her hands full with the lunch and Ernest’s clothes and trunk. + Chicken Little vibrated between the two centers of interest. Jilly also + assisted, contributing articles of her own when she caught the spirit of + packing. Her mother rescued a cake of soap and one of her shoes, but after + Katy and Gertie arrived at home, they discovered one of Jilly’s + nighties reposing on top of their Sunday hats and her rag doll neatly + wedged in a corner of their trunk. Ernest was not overlooked either. When + he unpacked at Annapolis, his recently acquired New York roommate was + decidedly amazed to see him draw forth a small, pink stocking from the + upper tray and a little later, a soiled woolly sheep along with his + shirts. Ernest found his explanations about a baby niece received rather + incredulously until a choice packet containing half a doughnut, a + much-mutilated peach, two green apples, and a mud pie appeared. Jilly had + evidently prepared a lunch for her uncle. They both went off into rumbles + of mirth over this remarkable <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_263"></a>263</span>exhibit and began a friendship which was + destined to be enduring. + </p> + <p> + Jane’s boat ride scheme found favor, but Mrs. Morton declared they + must put it off till after supper. They drove over and found the Captain + smoking contentedly on the veranda. + </p> + <p> + “I was hoping you young people would come to-night,” he said, + “though I intended going to the train to see you off in any event. I + shall miss these young ladies sadly, and Ernest seems to belong to me a + little, now that he has decided to be a sailor, too.” + </p> + <p> + “If I get in, I shall owe it to you, for I should never have thought + of Annapolis if you hadn’t suggested it,” Ernest replied. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I trust I have not influenced you to a decision you will some + day regret. You seem to me to have many of the qualifications for a naval + officer.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he is sufficiently qualified to row the <i>Chicken + Little</i>, Captain Clarke?” asked Jane suggestively. + </p> + <p> + The Captain’s eyes twinkled. “If he isn’t, I think Sherm + is. We might let the one who gets there first prove his skill.” + </p> + <p> + The boys were not slow in acting upon this hint. They sprinted their best + without waiting for a starter, and reached the skiff so exactly together + that the question of precedence was still unsettled. The <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_264"></a>264</span>boys did not wait + for an umpire. Ernest untied the boat and both attempted to fling + themselves in with disastrous results. The <i>Chicken Little</i> had not + been built for wrestling purposes. She tipped sufficiently to spill both + boys into the creek. The water was shallow, but Sherm was wet well up to + the waist, and Ernest, who had been pitched still farther out, was soaked + from head to foot. They appeared ludicrously surprised and sheepish. + </p> + <p> + The girls and the Captain laughed most unfeelingly. But Chicken Little + immediately began to consider the consequences. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Mother, she’ll have to dry that suit out and press it + before it can be packed. It’s a blessed thing you didn’t wear + your new suit as you wanted to, Ernest Morton.” + </p> + <p> + “My, but you are wet!” exclaimed Katy. “Oughtn’t + you to go right home and change?” + </p> + <p> + “Come with me into the house, boys. I think Wing and I can fix you + up.” The Captain cut a laugh in the middle to offer aid. + </p> + <p> + The lads were so ludicrously crestfallen; they were doubly comical. + </p> + <p> + Wing, fortunately, had a good fire in the kitchen and soon had their wet + garments steaming before it, while the Captain hunted out dry clothes for + them. Some spirit of mischief prompted him to array Ernest in an old + uniform of his own, with amazing <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_265"></a>265</span>results, for Ernest was considerably slimmer + than the older man, and fully two inches taller. The ample blue coat with + its gold braid hung on him as on a clothes rack. The sleeves were so short + they left a generous expanse of wrist in view, and the trousers struck him + well above the ankle. + </p> + <p> + The Captain saluted him ceremoniously, chuckling at the boy’s absurd + appearance. The girls were openly hilarious. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little struck an attitude. “Behold the future admiral! + Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce Admiral Morton, of whose + distinguished exploits you have often heard. His recent feat of capsizing + the enemy’s frigate single-handed, has never been equalled in the + annals of our glorious navy.” + </p> + <p> + She was not permitted to finish this speech undisturbed. Ernest had chased + her half way round the house before she got the last words out. + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hand firmly over her mouth to restrain her from further + eloquence. + </p> + <p> + Jane struggled helplessly. “Katy–say, Katy, come–help—” + </p> + <p> + Katy, nothing loath, flung herself on Ernest from the rear and the three + had a joyous tussle, with honors on the side of the future admiral, till + Sherm, who had been a little slower in dressing than Ernest, came out the + front door. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_266"></a>266</span>Jane called + to him despite the restraining hand and her shortening breath: “Sherm, + he’s choking me—” + </p> + <p> + “Choking nothing–it’s Katy who is choking me–just + wait till I get hold of you, Miss Halford!” + </p> + <p> + Katy had both hands gripped fairly on his coat collar and was tugging + Ernest backward with all her might, while Chicken Little struggled to get + away. + </p> + <p> + “Come help,–Sherm, please!” Chicken Little loosened + herself from the gagging hand enough to plead again. + </p> + <p> + “Keep out, Sherm. Three against one is no fair.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm watched the fray a moment, undecided. + </p> + <p> + “You may have bigger odds than that, Ernest,” laughed the + Captain. “You might as well be getting your hand in.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm sauntered leisurely over and helped Chicken Little wrench loose, + then, whispering something hastily, took her by the hand and they both + made for the creek. + </p> + <p> + Ernest, relieved of his sister, swung quickly round, catching Katy by the + shoulders before she could save herself. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve a mind to—” At this moment he detected Sherm’s + game. “No, you don’t, smarties!” + </p> + <p> + Katy likewise saw and acted even more quickly than Ernest. She was very + light and swift, and she <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_267"></a>267</span>darted + past Sherm and Chicken Little like a flash, reaching the boat twenty + seconds ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Ernest!” She slipped the rope deftly from the post, + not waiting to untie it, and, pushing off, leaped lightly into the row + boat. + </p> + <p> + Ernest needed no second invitation. Katy motioned to him to run farther + along the bank and paddled the skiff in close enough for him to climb on + board. Sherm and Chicken Little, dazed by the suddenness of this maneuver, + were still some feet away. + </p> + <p> + “Katy Halford, you’re a pretty one to go back on your own side + that way,” Jane scolded. + </p> + <p> + “Katy, I didn’t think it of you–after asking me to come + and help you, too!” Sherm was also reproachful. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t ask you, Sherman Dart. It was Chicken Little.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Ernest encouraged. “Katy’s been on my + side all the time. Haven’t you, Katy?” + </p> + <p> + Katy nodded, laughing. + </p> + <p> + The Captain, who had followed the young people at a more sober gait, + smiled at this outcome of the skirmish. + </p> + <p> + “When a woman will she will, you may depend upon it,” he + quoted. “The trouble is to find out what she wills.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest, secure in the rower’s seat, could afford to <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_268"></a>268</span>be generous. He + brought the boat in and took them all on board. Gertie had been a quiet + spectator of the frolic. She had little taste for boisterous fun. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke handed her in with a flourish. “Gertie is my partner.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm had his revenge. Ernest rowed energetically–so energetically + that he was tired enough to be willing to resign the oars before a half + hour had gone by. Under the circumstances he did not quite like to ask + Sherm to relieve him. Sherm seemed to be oblivious to the fact that it + required energy to propel the boat. He was strumming an imaginary banjo as + an accompaniment to the familiar melodies the girls were softly singing, + occasionally joining in himself. Katy did not fail to observe that Ernest + dropped one of his oars to regard a blister ruefully, and she did her best + to help. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Ernest, let me try one oar. I believe I could row with you if + you would take shorter strokes.” + </p> + <p> + Ernest hadn’t much faith in Katy’s skill, but the experiment + gave him an excuse to rest a minute. He moved over and handed her the oar + with a little smile of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a trump, Katy,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + Darkness dropped softly in the timber. They heard a distant splash where a + muskrat had taken to the water. Every one wished solemnly by the evening + star. And two of the wishes came true in record <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_269"></a>269</span>time. The Captain + wished that he might find the son so long lost to him. Katy wished–she + didn’t quite put the wish into words–but she did want Ernest + to have what he wanted. One by one the other stars twinkled forth and the + darkness deepened till their faces were dim, white blurs, and the girls’ + pink-and-blue dresses faded into patches of dusk in the blackness. + Fireflies winked in the gloom. At the Captain’s suggestion, Katy and + Ernest rested on their oars. They stopped singing and listened to the + night’s silences–silences broken by rustling movements from a + thicket on the farther bank or by eery creakings of the branches overhead. + The little group felt vaguely the bigness of things, though no one but the + Captain knew exactly why. + </p> + <p> + It was ten o’clock before they went back to the house. Wing had + performed a miracle in the meantime; the boy’s suits were not only + dried, but neatly pressed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton let them all sleep late the next morning in view of the long + journey ahead for Ernest and the girls. + </p> + <p> + Poor Sherm found this last day trying. His father’s health was not + improving and a fear lay close in his heart that he should never see him + again. It was almost more than he could bear to hear the girls talk about + going home. He eased the ache by keeping at work. Dr. Morton had already + initiated <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_270"></a>270</span>him + into Ernest’s duties. The others were too busy to think much about + Sherm but Chicken Little, who sat beside him at the table, noticed that he + scarcely tasted his dinner. She started to remark about it, but a glance + at Sherm’s drawn face warned her in time. + </p> + <p> + Presently, she had a gracious thought. “Sherm, let’s ride + Caliph and Calico in to the train, then the others won’t be so + crowded and Marian and Jilly can go, too.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm somehow felt better immediately. The brisk gallop they took at + starting helped still more. Sunflowers and golden rod lined the roadside + for miles; brown cat tails nodded above the swales. A bobolink, swaying on + a weed stalk near by, answered Sherm’s chirrup to the ponies with a + volley of golden notes. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,” he remarked, apropos of nothing, after they + had ridden a few miles, “you are a mighty comfortable person to have + ’round.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you won’t think so in a day or two. I shall be so + lonesome I may be tempted to follow you about like Huz and Buz.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t scare me that way, Chicken Little, I think the + ranch is going to be a pretty loose fit for all of us for a few days. But + your school begins about the middle of September, doesn’t it? That + will help.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_271"></a>271</span>“Yes, I + wish you were going to school, too. Say, Sherm, why couldn’t you + arrange to take one or two special studies under the new teacher? They say + he only lacks one year of graduating from college and knows a lot. He’s + teaching to save the money for his last year. Perhaps you might take some + of your freshman work.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could–I hate to get behind the rest of the boys. But + your father is hiring me to work, not to study.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but when winter comes you won’t need to work all the + time, and you’ll have all your evenings–Jim Bart does.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could only keep up my mathematics and Latin, I wouldn’t + be losing so much.” Sherm was considering. + </p> + <p> + The nine-mile ride to town seemed shorter than usual to most of the party + that afternoon. Ernest, in spite of his joy in actually going away to + school, found home and home folk unexpectedly dear now that he was leaving + them for many months. Poor Mrs. Morton could hardly tear her eyes from the + son who was taking his first step away from her. Chicken Little was + feeling disturbingly sober; no Ernest, no Katy, no Gertie–how could + she ever stand it? + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, if I start to cry, just wink, will you–that funny way + you do sometimes. Ernest bet I <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_272"></a>272</span>would–and I won’t, but I know I’m + going to want to dreadfully.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was as good as her word. She didn’t–that is, as + long as Ernest could see her. She kissed him good-bye and gave him a + playful box on the ear. She threw kisses, smiling as the group at the car + window slid by, then the lump in her throat grew startlingly bigger. + </p> + <p> + “Race you to the horses, Chicken Little,” said Sherm. “If + it’s all right with you, Mrs. Morton, we’ll go straight home.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little raced with Sherm and with her tears. She beat Sherm but the + tears won out. She could hardly see to untie Calico’s rein. Sherm + took the strap out of her hand, fastened it, and swung her up. + </p> + <p> + “Shut your eyes and open your mouth,” he commanded, as soon as + she was securely seated. + </p> + <p> + Jane obeyed meekly and Sherm popped a big chocolate drop in. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she exclaimed, smiling through the trickling tears, + “was that what you stopped down town for? My, what a baby you must + think me!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm reached over and patted her hand. “I think you are several + pumpkins and some squash, Chicken Little. Have another?” + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_15"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_273"></a>273</span> + <img src="images/p0273.jpg" id="img033" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + SCHOOL + </h2> + <p> + The days crawled by during the next two weeks. + </p> + <p> + “I hate them so by night, I want to shove them off into to-morrow by + main force,” Jane told Marian complainingly, the third day after + Ernest and the girls had gone. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be all right in a day or two. It’s always + hardest at first,” Marian consoled her. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it doesn’t make any difference whether I’m + all right or all wrong–the folks have gone just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “And you might as well make the best—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I might as well! ‘Count your blessings, my brethren, + etc.’ I’ve done counted ’em till I’m sick of + hearing about them! Marian, if you don’t find me something new to do + I shall bust!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_274"></a>274</span>Marian was + particularly busy that morning and not so patient as usual. + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand around the room ironically. “I shall be charmed, + Chicken Little, will you finish these dishes or sweep the sitting room or + sew on that dress of Jilly’s? I can furnish you an endless variety + to choose from.” + </p> + <p> + “I said something new.” + </p> + <p> + “Jilly’s dress is brand spanking new.” + </p> + <p> + “You know what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know, Jane, I have had the feeling myself, but I don’t + imagine the heavens are going to open and shower down something new and + choice on you because you’re lonesome and bored. If you can’t + amuse yourself, you might as well be useful and have something to show for + a tedious day.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little drummed on the window for several minutes without replying, + then swung round with a grimace. + </p> + <p> + “Hand over the dress–I can run up the seams on the machine all + right, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + The family waited, excited and expectant, for the report on Ernest’s + examinations. They had had a long letter telling of his journey and safe + arrival. Katy and Gertie and Mrs. Halford had each written long letters + full of Centerville news and references to their pleasant summer. Mrs. + Halford could not say enough concerning the girls’ improved + appearance. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_275"></a>275</span>Katy + wrote the most interesting item. “What do you think? Carol Brown + left for Annapolis, too. Do you suppose Ernest will know him? P. S. We + showed him your picture and he stared at it awful hard and said–you’ve + got to get me a trade last for this–‘Say, Chicken Little’s + going to be a hummer if she keeps on!’ Don’t you think I’m + nice to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + Jane gave the letter to Sherm to read, forgetting this part. Sherm snorted + when he came to it, glancing up curiously at her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like that sort of stuff, Chicken Little?” he asked + later. + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + It was almost two weeks after Ernest went, before Dr. Morton, on his + return from town one September evening, came up the walk excitedly waving + a telegram. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + “He must have passed or Father wouldn’t look so pleased,” + said Mrs. Morton. + </p> + <p> + The doctor came in slightly breathless. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mother, I’m afraid you have lost your boy.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton looked startled for a moment, then, reassured by her husband’s + smile, fumbled nervously for her glasses to read the yellow paper he + handed her. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_276"></a>276</span>She was + maddeningly deliberate. Jane, perched upon the arm of her chair, tried to + anticipate her, but her mother held it so she could not see. + </p> + <p> + “It’s Mother’s place to see it first, daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Reproving Chicken Little steadied Mrs. Morton’s nerves, and she read + the few words aloud with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Sworn in to-day–hurrah!” Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “That means that he—?” She looked inquiringly at her + husband. + </p> + <p> + “That means he has passed both physical and mental examinations and + has been regularly sworn in to Uncle Sam’s service.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought he was just going to the Naval Academy–why does + he have to be sworn in as if he were enlisting?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he, practically, has enlisted. He enters the government + service when he enters the academy, and he simply takes his oath of + allegiance.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton’s questioning was interrupted by the entrance of Sherm, + Frank, and Marian, who came in demanding news. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry, Mother,” said Frank, patting her shoulder, + “your precious lamb is in good hands. He’ll be back next + September such a dude the family won’t know how to behave in his + presence.” Frank couldn’t resist teasing even when he tried to + comfort. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_277"></a>277</span>Mrs. Morton + sighed. “A great many things can happen in a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mother dear, they can, but most always they don’t. The + only things you can depend on are bad weather and work.” + </p> + <p> + A letter soon followed the telegram, giving details of the examinations, + and a glimpse of Ernest’s new life, which comforted his mother, + because he was forming punctual habits and had to go regularly to chapel + whether he wished to or not. He had met Carol unexpectedly, to their + mutual joy. “He’s an awfully handsome chap–knows it, + too, but I think he has too much sense to let it spoil him. It’s + jolly to have some one I know here,” Ernest wrote. + </p> + <p> + School began for Chicken Little at the little brown schoolhouse a mile + distant, on the fifteenth of September. Chicken Little and the whole + Morton family rejoiced, for she had been a most dissatisfied young person + of late. Her mother watched her walk away down the lane, immaculate in her + new flower-bordered calico, lunch basket in hand, with positive + thankfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to have her out of the way, aren’t you, Mother? Jane is + too restless a girl to be idle,” laughed Marian. + </p> + <p> + Jane had spoken to her father about her plan for Sherm and he had heartily + agreed. But Sherm was <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_278"></a>278</span>not + to begin until the first of November when the most pressing of the farm + work would be over. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little promptly talked the matter over also with the new teacher, + Mr. Clay, a young man of twenty-one, fresh from his junior year at + college. He was wide awake and attractive, and while ignorant, as they, of + many of the niceties of polite society, seemed a very elegant being to the + majority of his new pupils. Mamie Jenkins had concluded to stay at home + for the fall term instead of going to the Garland High School. For some + reason it took an astonishing number of consultations with the teacher to + arrange Mamie’s course satisfactorily, especially when she learned + that Sherm would be coming soon. She quizzed Chicken Little carefully as + to what studies Sherm would take. + </p> + <p> + “Geometry and Latin, I think. I asked Mr. Clay and he said he could. + Maybe bookkeeping, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking I ought to go on with my Latin. I had Beginning + Latin last year, and I really ought to take Cæsar right away before I + forget.” + </p> + <p> + Jane regarded her thoughtfully. She happened to know that Sherm was + planning to study Cicero. How mad Mamie would be if she started Cæsar all + alone! She had half a mind to let her go ahead. Mamie had spent the entire + morning recess telling her how the boys bored her hanging round. Yes, it + would do Mamie good to have to recite alone. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_279"></a>279</span>Chicken Little shut her lips firmly for a + second. When she opened them, she replied that she understood Cæsar was a + very interesting study. + </p> + <p> + Mamie bridled and said condescendingly: “It’s a pity you haven’t + had Latin so you could come into the class, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see enough of Sherm at home!” returned Chicken Little + maliciously. Mamie had the faculty of always rubbing her up the wrong way. + </p> + <p> + Mamie gave her shoulders a fling. “Of course, I always forget you + are just a little girl, Jane. You’re so big and—” Mamie + didn’t finish her sentence. She merely glanced expressively at Jane’s + long legs. “I think I’ll go in and talk to Mr. Clay. He must + be sick of having all those kids hanging round him.” + </p> + <p> + Mamie sailed off in state, leaving Jane feeling as if she had run her hand + into a patch of nettles. She was standing there in the sunshine looking + after Mamie resentfully when Grant Stowe came along. + </p> + <p> + He nodded toward the schoolhouse door through which Mamie had vanished. + “What’s Miss Flirtie been saying to make you so ruffled? She’s + begun to sit up nights now fixing her cap for the teacher. Bet you a + cookie he’s too slick for her.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little laughed, but retorted: “Humph, how many times have + you sat on her front porch this summer?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_280"></a>280</span>Grant + reddened. “Oh, we’re neighbors, and a fellow has to kill time + summer evenings. Father and mother always go to bed with the chickens and + it’s no fun listening to the frogs all by yourself. Suppose your + folks wouldn’t let anybody come to see you–I hear they’re + all-fired particular.” + </p> + <p> + Jane did not have an opportunity to answer. One of the little girls came + begging her to play Blackman with a group of the younger children. Grant + suggested that she choose up for one side, and he would for the other. She + had just begun to choose when Mr. Clay appeared at her elbow. “May I + play on your side, Jane?” + </p> + <p> + “Teacher’s” entrance into the game acted like magic. The + few big boys who had come on this first day, edged near enough to be seen + and were speedily brought into the sport. Mamie, venturing languidly to + the door to see what had become of Mr. Clay, suddenly decided she was not + too big to play “just this once.” + </p> + <p> + Teacher and Jane were both swift runners and Grant had hard work to make a + showing. Mamie sweetly let herself be caught by teacher the first rush, to + Grant’s openly expressed disgust. The big boys warmed into envious + rivalry with Mr. Clay right from the start, but he soon convinced them + that they would have to work, if they worsted him at any of their games or + exercises. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_281"></a>281</span>Chicken + Little found team work with him very delightful and could scarcely believe + the noon hour was over, when he pulled out his watch and announced that he + must call school. She turned a radiant face up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s such fun to have you play–I wish you would + often.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, it’s fine exercise, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Mamie began her Cæsar the next day, requiring much help from “Teacher.” + She also came to school in her best dress. Mamie had faith in first + impressions. Chicken Little had been tempted the night before to betray + Mamie’s schemes to Sherm, but she stopped with the words on the tip + of her tongue. She couldn’t exactly have explained the scruple that + would not let her “give Mamie away,” as she phrased it. + </p> + <p> + “Is the teacher any good?” Sherm had asked, meeting her at the + ford on her way home, and taking lunch basket and books with an air of + possession, which was the one trick of Sherm’s that annoyed Chicken + Little. He never asked leave or offered to relieve her of burdens; he + merely reached over and took them. + </p> + <p> + She minded this more than usual to-day; Mr. Clay’s manner had been + so delightful. She couldn’t even thank Sherm. They trudged along in + silence for a few minutes. Finally, Sherm asked dryly: <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_282"></a>282</span>“Left your + tongue at school, Miss Morton?–you’re not very sociable.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little responded by making a face at him, which brought an ominous + sparkle into the boy’s eyes. Things hadn’t gone very well with + him that day and he had waited for Jane for a little companioning. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he demanded gruffly, “what’s the matter? + Did Mr. Clay stand you in a corner the first day or did the handsome Grant + neglect you for Mamie?” + </p> + <p> + The last thrust put fire in Chicken Little’s eye. She turned and + looked at him squarely. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, if I slapped you some day would you be surprised?” she + demanded unexpectedly. + </p> + <p> + Sherm flashed a sidelong glance at her. “Not as surprised as you’ll + be, if you ever try it.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little considered this remark. Just what did he mean? + </p> + <p> + Sherm’s face was flushed a trifle angrily. He looked as if he might + mean most anything. She replied demurely with a provoking shrug of her + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t say I should–but I wanted to dreadfully a + minute ago.” + </p> + <p> + The tall lad beside her seemed genuinely surprised at this statement. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know what you are talking about, Chicken Little, but + I’m blamed if I do.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_283"></a>283</span>“It’s + the way you take my books and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” Sherm was still more surprised. Then an idea popping + into his mind, “Oh, I presume you’d like to have me take off + my hat and make you a profound reverence as your favorite heroes do in + novels. What in thunder you girls find to like in those trashy novels is + more than I can see!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little bristled. “Hm-n, Walter Scott and Washington Irving, + trashy! Shows how much you know, if you have graduated from High School, + Sherman Dart! Besides, I didn’t mean any such thing. Only, you sort + of take my things without asking–as if–as if—” She + was getting into rather deeper water than she had anticipated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, as if what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t suppose you mean it that way–but you act as + if I was only a silly little girl–and didn’t count!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was decidedly red in the face by the time she finished. + </p> + <p> + Sherm didn’t say anything for a moment, but he continued to look at + her. He looked at her as if he had found something about her he hadn’t + noticed before. + </p> + <p> + “Who put that idea into your head?–Mamie?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Grant Stowe?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_284"></a>284</span>“Nobody, + thank you, I guess I have a mind of my own.” + </p> + <p> + “New teacher start in by giving you a lecture on deportment?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little stamped her foot. “You’re perfectful hateful–and + I sha’n’t walk another step with you!” + </p> + <p> + They were near the gate leading from the lane into the orchard and she + suited the action to the word, by darting through it and running off under + the trees. + </p> + <p> + Sherm looked after her a moment, undecided whether to stand on his dignity + or to pursue. He had considered Jane a little girl–most of the time. + Some way she was alluringly different to-day. He suddenly resolved that he + would not be flouted in any such fashion. It took him about two minutes to + catch up with Chicken Little and slip his arm through hers. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don’t, Miss. You are going to sit down here under + this tree and tell me exactly what’s the matter!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little struggled rebelliously, but Sherm held her firmly. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t–Mother told me to come straight home from + school; she wanted me.” + </p> + <p> + “Fibber! Your mother and Marian went over to Benton’s this + afternoon. You needn’t try to <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_285"></a>285</span>dodge–you and I are going to have this + out right now. So you might as well be obliging and sit down comfortably.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t anything to make such a fuss about.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why are you making such a row?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little flung herself down upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + Sherm stretched his muscular length on the sward in front of her and began + to chew a grass stem in a leisurely fashion while he watched her. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little pulled a handful of long grasses and commenced plaiting + them. Her hair was windblown and her face rose-flushed from her run. She + declined to look at Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little–O Chicken Little, are you very mad? Chicken + Little?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little kept her brown eyes fixed upon the pliant stems. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,” Sherm murmured softly, “you have the + prettiest eyes of any girl I know.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little caught the touch of malice in his tone and shot an + indignant glance at him from the aforesaid eyes. + </p> + <p> + Sherm laughed delightedly. “Chicken Little, you don’t need to + tell me what’s the matter with you–I know.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little shot another indignant glance. “There isn’t + anything the matter except what I <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_286"></a>286</span>told you–of course, it wasn’t + anything really–only—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is, Chicken Little, that was only a symptom.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop your fooling.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you want me to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Bet you do–honest, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t the least curiosity–so you can just stop + teasing.” Jane was positively dignified. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m going to tell you, whether you want to hear it or + not. You’re growing up, Chicken Little, that’s what’s + the matter with our little feelings. But don’t forget you promised + to give me part of Ernest’s place this winter. It was a bargain, + wasn’t it?” Sherm reached over and took possession of her busy + fingers. “Wasn’t it? Chicken Little Jane, wasn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Jane looked at this new and astonishing Sherm and nodded shyly. + </p> + <p> + Sherm gathered up her books with a laugh. “Come on, your mother + wants you.” + </p> + <p> + “She does not–and I’m going to sit here till I make a + grass basket for Jilly.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + September and October slipped away quietly, their warm, hazy days gay with + turning leaves and spicily fragrant with the drying vegetation and + ripening <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_287"></a>287</span>fruits. + Chicken Little found school under Mr. Clay unwontedly interesting. He + departed from the regulation mixture of three parts study and one part + recitation and tried to lead his pupils’ thoughts out into the world + a little. Indeed, some of his innovations were regarded with suspicion by + certain fathers and mothers in the district. When he advised his advanced + history class to read historical novels and Shakespeare in connection with + their work, there was much shaking of heads. But when he took advantage of + the coming election to waken an interest in politics, the district board + waited on him. If the visit of the school board silenced Mr. Clay, it did + not discourage his charges, and partisanship ran high. The favorite method + of boosting one’s candidates being to write their names on the + blackboard at recesses and noons, and then stand guard to prevent the + opposing faction from erasing them. + </p> + <p> + The fun grew furious. The Mortons were staunch Republicans, and Chicken + Little strove valiantly to write “Garfield and Arthur” earlier + and oftener than the Democrats, led by Grant Stowe and Mamie Price, could + replace them with “Hancock and English.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was the biggest and strongest and bossiest lad in school. His + favorite method of settling the enemy was to pick them up bodily and set + them outside the schoolhouse door while he rubbed out their <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_288"></a>288</span>ticket. Or better + still, to hold the door while Mamie or some other democrat turned the + entire front board into a waving sea of “Hancocks and Englishes.” + </p> + <p> + The Republicans were in the lead as to numbers, but they were mostly the + younger children. But few of the older boys could be spared from the farm + work to enter school so early in the fall. So Chicken Little captained her + side, aided by quiet suggestions from Mr. Clay who did not wish to take + sides openly. + </p> + <p> + Many were the ruses employed to capture the blackboards. Jane stayed one + evening after school to have things ready for the morrow, but, alas, Grant + Stowe was in the habit of waiting to walk a piece home with her. He waited + down the road till he grew suspicious, and, coming back, caught her in the + act. + </p> + <p> + He took swift revenge, none too generously, by forcing her to erase every + line, then rubbed it in by guiding her hand to make her write the names of + the opposition candidates. Despite all Chicken Little’s struggles, + he persisted until the hated names were finished in writing that decidedly + resembled crow tracks, but could be read by anyone having sufficient + patience. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was furious but helpless. Mr. Clay had gone home early in + order to drive into town <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_289"></a>289</span>that + evening. Grant treated her anger as a good joke. She finally wrenched her + hand loose and gave him a resounding smack across the cheek, that made her + tormentor’s face tingle. + </p> + <p> + It was Grant’s turn to be vexed now. He caught her arm and twisted + it till she winced. “Say you’re sorry!” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t!” + </p> + <p> + Grant turned the supple wrist a twist farther. “Now, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “No sir, not if you twist till you break it–I won’t! I’m + not going to be bullied!” + </p> + <p> + Grant began to be afraid she meant what she said. But his pride would not + let him give in to a girl. “All right, little stubborn, I’ll + kiss you till you do.” + </p> + <p> + As Grant loosened his hold on her wrist, Jane jerked away and fled toward + the door in a panic. She was more than half afraid of Grant in this humor–and + then her promise to Ernest. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, I knew better than to do that, but he made me so mad!” + she mourned. + </p> + <p> + Grant was close upon her. She fairly hurled herself out the door and most + unexpectedly bumped into Sherm, who caught her in time to save her + catapulting down the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Save the pieces, Chicken Little, what’s your hurry?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_290"></a>290</span>“O + Sherm,–oh, I’m so glad you came–I—” + </p> + <p> + Before she could finish Grant reached the door, stopping short on seeing + Sherm. + </p> + <p> + Jane clutched Sherm’s arm tight. “Don’t let him, please + don’t let him!” + </p> + <p> + Her words were not entirely clear, but Sherm promptly shoved her behind + him and confronted Grant angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Big business you’re in, frightening girls–you bully!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm had taken a dislike to Grant that evening at Mamie’s and + exulted in this opportunity to pick a quarrel. Grant was equally ready. He + scorned explanations and replied by pulling off his coat. Sherm swiftly + peeled his also. Chicken Little was alarmed by these warlike preparations. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t, boys, don’t! I guess it was part my fault, + Sherm. Grant didn’t mean any harm. We were scrapping over the + election and—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care whether it was your fault or not, Jane. If Grant + doesn’t know enough to be a gentleman, it’s time he learned.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm sprang forward and the boys clinched. They were pretty evenly + matched. Grant outweighed Sherm, but the latter was quicker and had had + some training in wrestling. This was the popular method of settling + quarrels, boxing not having come into vogue. Inside of three minutes both + were <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_291"></a>291</span>down, + rolling over the ground an indiscriminate, writhing heap of arms and legs. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was utterly dismayed. She didn’t want either of the + boys hurt, but they heeded her remonstrances no more than if she had been + a mosquito. She even tried pulling at the one who came uppermost, but they + both pantingly warned her off. Chicken Little set her jaw firmly. She flew + into the schoolhouse to the water bench, and seizing the water bucket, + flew out. Pausing long enough to take good aim, she dashed its contents + over the boys’ heads with all her might. + </p> + <p> + Grant being underneath at the moment, with lips parted from his exertions, + received the full force of the water in his mouth and nose, and nearly + strangled from the dose. Sherm had to let him up and apply first aid to + help him recover his breath–the lad was purple. When he began to + breathe readily once more, both boys got to their feet, glaring + reproachfully at Chicken Little. Each was restrained by the presence of + the other from expressing forcibly his opinion of the young lady. The + heroine was in wrong with both the villain and the hero. However, the + heroine did not care. + </p> + <p> + “You boys ought to be ashamed of yourselves, both of you–fighting + like a pair of kids. I wish you could see yourselves! You look exactly + like drowned rats!” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_292"></a>292</span>The lads + could not not see themselves, but they could see each other, and the + exhibit was convincing. Sherm’s mouth puckered into its crooked + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, Chicken Little, it’s + all right with me. So long, Grant.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm picked up his coat and cap and set off, leaving Jane to follow or + linger as she saw fit. She turned to Grant. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble, Grant.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t mention it, and, truly–I didn’t intend to + frighten you, Chicken Little. I guess you aren’t like most of the + girls on the Creek–I didn’t suppose you’d take it that + way. Good-bye, Sherm,” he called. Grant also picked up his + belongings and departed. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little rescued the water pail and carried it into the schoolhouse. + She secured her hat and lunch basket, and was starting for the door when a + wonderful idea buzzed in her brain. Slipping to the window she glanced + out. Grant was striding rapidly off up the road. She ran to the board and + hastily erased that hateful “Hancock and English” and as + hastily wrote the names of the other presidential candidates in letters a + foot high across the front board, underlining them heavily and putting + hands pointing toward them on each of the side boards. This done, she + locked the schoolhouse <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_293"></a>293</span>door, + as she had promised Mr. Clay, and, taking the key over to a neighbor’s + a few rods away, joyously departed homeward. + </p> + <p> + Sherm was not in sight when she started. A little farther down the hill + she saw him waiting beside a haystack. He had evidently been watching to + make sure she did not get into further trouble. He walked briskly on as + soon as he caught sight of her. + </p> + <p> + Young Mr. Dart looked a trifle sulky at supper that evening. Chicken + Little tried to attract his attention in various ways without success. + Sherm was resolved to ignore her. Finally, she addressed him directly. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you please pass the water, Sherm?” she asked with + exaggerated meekness. + </p> + <p> + Sherm grinned in spite of himself. The other members of the family looked + at Jane inquiringly. Jane, having received the water, ate her supper in + profound silence. + </p> + <p> + He came on her unexpectedly down by the spring a little later. It was + growing dark and he did not see her until he was almost beside her. He + hesitated a moment, then joined her. She glanced up demurely. + </p> + <p> + He regarded her an instant in complete silence. Chicken Little tossed her + head. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_294"></a>294</span>Sherm came a + step closer and Jane prepared to fly if necessary, but Sherm contented + himself with staring at her till he made her drop her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You mischievous witch, I’d like to shake you hard!” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0294.jpg" id="img034" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_16"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_295"></a>295</span> + <img src="images/p0295.jpg" id="img035" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PRAIRIE FIRE + </h2> + <p> + The prairies were brown–a dead, crisp brown, as if they had been + baked by hot suns through long, rainless days and nipped by a whole winter + of killing frosts. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand why the grass is so dry by the middle of + November,” said Dr. Morton. “Of course the summer was pretty + dry, but then we had rains in September.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Father,” Frank replied, “but there has been less + rainfall for the past two years than Kansas has known for a decade. I + imagine the ground is baked underneath on the prairies, and the rains only + helped for a time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, whatever caused it, we shall have to feed earlier than usual. + I am afraid we may have some <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_296"></a>296</span>bad + fires, too, if we don’t have rain or a snowfall soon.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a fire over on Elm Creek night before last,” spoke + up Sherm. “Grant Stowe’s cousin was telling us about it at + school.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw smoke off to the north yesterday,” said Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope we sha’n’t have any bad fires this fall!” + exclaimed Mrs. Morton. “I do think a big prairie fire is one of the + most terrifying sights, especially at night. I couldn’t sleep that + first fall for dreading them. I used to get up in the middle of the night + and look out the windows to see if that awful glare was anywhere on the + horizon.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t go borrowing trouble, Mother. There hasn’t been a + bad fire on Big John for years. The country is so thickly settled a fire + doesn’t have the sweep it used to.” Dr. Morton tried to + reassure her. + </p> + <p> + “They must be wonderful things to see. I hope there won’t be + any bad ones, but if one shows up anywhere within ten miles, I propose to + be on hand,” Sherm said eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “You won’t be so keen after you have fought one or two, Sherm.” + Frank smiled with the wisdom of the initiated. “Say, Father, I think + Jim and I had better fire round those stacks on the north eighty. <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_297"></a>297</span>It would be hard to + save them if a fire got started on the divide.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I don’t know but you’d best do it this afternoon. + Burn a pretty wide strip. And we ought to run a guard on the west from + that field of winter wheat to the county road. If a fire ever got in + there, it might come down on the house.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little spoke up. “May I go, too, Frank? I love to watch you.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be in school, but you can come home that way if we are + still at work. You can easily see the smoke. We won’t try it if the + wind rises, and I believe it is going to.” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, if you see the smoke you may tell Mr. Clay I won’t + come for my recitation this afternoon. I am going to find out how this + back-firing business is done.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm had begun his studies some two weeks previous and was making rapid + progress, studying evenings, and going to the school a half hour before + closing time to recite. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little found this arrangement extremely pleasant, because Sherm + was always there to walk home with her. They took all sorts of detours and + by-paths through the woods, instead of coming along the road to the ford. + They discovered unexpected stores of walnuts and acorns and wild rose + hips, and scarlet bitter-sweet just <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_298"></a>298</span>opening its gorgeous berries after the first + hard frosts. + </p> + <p> + Jane helped Sherm press autumn leaves and pack a huge box of nuts to send + home. His mother wrote back that his father hadn’t showed as much + interest in anything for weeks, as he did in the nuts. They seemed to + carry him back to his own boyhood. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dart seldom left his bed now, and Sherm’s mother told but little + of his condition. Sherm understood her silence only too well. Chicken + Little noticed that he always worked hard and late the days he heard from + home. She began to watch for the letters herself, and to mount guard over + the boy when he looked specially downcast, teasing him into going for a + gallop or wheedling him into making taffy or playing a game of checkers. + She got so she recognized Sherm’s blue devils as far off as she + could see him. + </p> + <p> + Sherm did not notice this for some time or suspect she was looking after + him, but one day he remarked carelessly when she thought she had been + specially clever: + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, don’t make a mollycoddle of me. A man has to + learn to take what comes his way without squealing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sherm, but if you get thorns in your hand, it’s better + to try to pull them out than to go on pushing them in deeper, isn’t + it? I know when I was <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_299"></a>299</span>a + kid, it always helped a lot to have Mother kiss it better.” + </p> + <p> + “How’d you get so wise, Chicken Little?” The lad smiled + his wry smile. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t make fun of me, please, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + “Make fun of you? Lady Jane, I’ve been taking off my hat to + you for a week. How in the dickens you girls find out exactly what’s + going on inside a chap beats my time. It’s mighty good of you to put + up with my glooming and try to cheer me along. Maybe I don’t look + grateful, but I am.” Sherm was eager to make this acknowledgment, + but found it more trying than he had anticipated. He revenged himself by + starting in to tease. + </p> + <p> + “Say, I wish you’d try your hand at this splinter–I can’t + budge the critter.” + </p> + <p> + Jane flew for a needle, unsuspecting. The splinter didn’t look + serious, but she painstakingly dug it out. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all right?” she demanded, looking up to encounter a + wicked glint in Sherm’s gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Hm-n, aren’t you going to put any medicine on it?” + </p> + <p> + “Medicine?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know you said it helped.” Sherm was grinning + impishly. + </p> + <p> + “Sherman Dart, I think you’re too mean for <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_300"></a>300</span>words!” She + was about to turn away affronted when she had an inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” she called, “O Mother!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had been placidly sewing in the sitting room while the young + people were studying their lessons by the dining-room table. She came to + the door, inquiring. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, Sherm’s had a splinter in his finger and he wants you + to kiss it better.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm started to protest, but Mrs. Morton did not stop to listen. + </p> + <p> + “Jane, I think that kind of a joke is very ill-timed, making your + poor mother get up and come to you for nothing. You must remember I am not + as young as I once was.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton departed with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Now will you be good?” chuckled Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess I’m square,” Chicken Little retorted, going + back to her lessons. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton had said truly that she was not so young as formerly. She had + not been well all fall. Dr. Morton had persuaded her to see another + physician, who, having assured her that she was merely run down, had + prescribed the usual tonic. He had told Dr. Morton, however, that her + heart action was weak and warned him to guard her against shocks of any + kind and to have her rest as much as possible. This had agreed with the + doctor’s own diagnosis of <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_301"></a>301</span>her condition, and the family had been trying + to save her from all exertion. So Chicken Little was a tiny bit + conscience-stricken. + </p> + <p> + High winds and more pressing farm duties had interfered with running the + fire guards. It was not until the week before Thanksgiving that the men + got at it, then they succeeded only in protecting the stacks. They had + intended to finish the job the following morning, but one of the + neighbors, passing through the lane, stopped to tell Dr. Morton of a sale + of yearlings to be held the next afternoon in the neighboring county. + </p> + <p> + “It must be part of the Elliott herd. They’re three-quarters + bred shorthorn; I’d like mighty well to pick up a bunch of them. We + have plenty of feed for any ordinary winter.” Dr. Morton was talking + the matter over with Frank after supper. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we ride over, Father, it’s only about twenty miles. + We can start early–we don’t need to buy unless they are + actually a bargain.” + </p> + <p> + They were off at six the following morning, planning to return the same + day. Dr. Morton, however, warned his wife not to be anxious if she did not + see them before the next afternoon. If they bought the steers, they would + not try to drive them home the same day. + </p> + <p> + The morning was bright and pleasant, but the wind rose toward mid-day and + was blowing a young <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_302"></a>302</span>gale + by the time Chicken Little returned from school at half-past four. Mrs. + Morton began worrying lest the doctor and Frank had not wrapped up + sufficiently. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it isn’t cold yet, Mrs. Morton. In fact, it is + astonishingly warm for November. And there’s the queerest, yellowish + haze I have ever seen.” Sherm said this to reassure her. + </p> + <p> + “Probably dust,” replied Mrs. Morton carelessly, relieved from + her anxiety about her family. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little hurried through her supper and went over to see Marian. + Presently Marian threw a shawl over her head and they both climbed the + hill back of the house. The wind was still blowing fiercely. Sherm saw + them on the ridge and followed to see what was tempting them to a stroll + on such a night. + </p> + <p> + “What’s up?” + </p> + <p> + Marian answered. “Why, Jane thinks all this yellow haze comes from a + prairie fire. We’ve been trying to see if we could see any trace of + it. It seems to me I do smell smoke–there’s a kind of pungent + tang to the air, too.” Marian sniffed uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Like burning grass or leaves?” + </p> + <p> + Marian’s face paled. “Sherm, that’s exactly what it is! + What can we do? And the menfolks all away except Jim Bart, and he’s + gone to Benton’s on an <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_303"></a>303</span>errand. + He’ll be back in a few minutes though.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry, Marian,” said Jane, “if it’s a + prairie fire it’s miles and miles off. It must be on the other side + of Little John. It can never cross the creek–besides, the wind is + blowing the wrong way for it to sweep down on us.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s so–but the wind might change any minute, and in + a gale like this I’m not so sure it might not jump Little John. I do + wish Frank had finished that back-firing.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it wouldn’t be possible to do it until the wind + lulls, but Mrs. Morton, I’ll sit up and watch to-night–at + least until the wind goes down. It often falls about midnight,” said + Sherm, looking troubled. + </p> + <p> + “It looks to me as if we were in for a three-days’ blow,” + Marian replied despondently. “But I’d be much obliged if you + would, Sherm, I don’t quite like to ask Jim Bart to, for he’s + had such a hard day. Do you think you can keep awake? And, Chicken Little, + don’t let on to Mother–we mustn’t worry her.” + </p> + <p> + “Sherm,” said Jane, after they went into the house, “I’m + going to stay up, too; I’ll slip down again after Mother goes to + bed. It’s a lot easier for two people to keep awake than one.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Chicken Little, I don’t believe you’d better. Your + mother wouldn’t like it. And we’d be dead sure to laugh or + talk loud enough for her to hear <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_304"></a>304</span>us. I hope the wind will go down early. If it + doesn’t and I find I can’t stay awake, I’ll call you and + let you watch while I doze on the couch here.” + </p> + <p> + Jane stayed up as late as her mother would let her, and Sherm made the + excuse of having special studying to do, to sit up later. After Mrs. + Morton had retired he made frequent excursions to the hill top. A lurid + glare lit up the horizon to the northwest. He could still catch the tang + of smoke and whiffs of burning grass, but these were not so pungent as + earlier in the evening. The fire seemed farther away. By eleven, the glare + was decidedly fainter and the wind had subsided noticeably. At twelve, he + concluded it was safe to go to bed. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little waking about two, stole down stairs and finding everything + dark, made the rounds of the windows, but the distant fire showed only a + faint glow in the night. + </p> + <p> + When they arose the next morning there was no trace of the fire to be + seen. Sherm hailed some men passing, for news. They reported that it had + swept the north side of Elm Creek and said it had burned up a lot of hay. + There was a rumor that two of the upland farmers had lost everything they + had and that a man and team had been caught in it. But they hadn’t + been able to get any details. + </p> + <p> + “Though it wouldn’t be surprising,” one of the <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_305"></a>305</span>strangers added, + “that fire was traveling faster than any horse could run.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had come out and was standing beside Sherm. Her eyes grew + big. “Do they really think somebody got burned?” + </p> + <p> + One of the men nudged the man who had spoken. + </p> + <p> + “No, Sis, it was just a rumor–I don’t ’low it was + true. When folks can’t give you any name or place–it most + generally ain’t so.” + </p> + <p> + The men drove on. + </p> + <p> + It was Saturday. Jim Bart had gone down to town for the weekly supplies + and Sherm was busy with odd jobs. He asked Jane to go up to the hill top + occasionally to make sure there were no fresh signs of the fire, though + Jim Bart had assured him the danger was over. Sherm noticed that the wind + had changed. It was blowing freshly from the very direction where they had + seen the fire the preceding night. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little obediently made trips once an hour until noon; she could + detect nothing to occasion alarm. After dinner her mother set her to + making doughnuts and she forgot all about it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was not so well to-day and Jane persuaded her to go to bed. + Drawing the blinds to, she put a hot iron to her mother’s feet and + left her to sleep. The clock striking four attracted Jane’s + attention as she came back into the sitting room, the <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_306"></a>306</span>last doughnut was + draining in the collender while Annie mopped the kitchen floor. + </p> + <p> + She stood irresolute for an instant, undecided whether to read or to fetch + some walnuts from the smokehouse for Sunday. Dr. Morton always liked to + have a basket of walnuts handy on Sunday afternoons. “I guess I’ll + get the nuts, and perhaps I’d better run up the hill to be sure that + old fire hasn’t had a change of heart. Father says often some little + side fire smolders and burns after the main fire is all out. Though I + guess one would have showed up long before this if there’d been any + this time.” + </p> + <p> + She argued with herself for two or three minutes, finally deciding that it + wasn’t much trouble to go take a look, even if it were foolish. Just + outside the door she met Sherm and he walked up to the crest with her. + </p> + <p> + Half way up the slope Chicken Little suddenly stopped, sniffing + suspiciously. “Sherm, I believe I smell smoke again.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm stopped also to draw in a long breath. He did not wait to announce + his observations, but broke into a run for the top of the hill. Chicken + Little followed him a length in the rear. Sherm took one look and gave + vent to a surprised whistle. Chicken Little stared, fascinated, at a tiny + line of fire burning merrily on a hillside not a mile distant. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_307"></a>307</span>“Jumping + Jehosophat!” exclaimed Sherm, “how did it ever creep up on us + this way?” + </p> + <p> + Jane was thinking rapidly. She scarcely noticed what he said. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, Frank left the water barrels and the mops and everything on + the wagon, didn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes–what—” + </p> + <p> + “Are the barrels filled?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep, do you think—” + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, run hitch the bay team to the wagon quick. I’ll get + Marian and warn Annie not to tell Mother–she’s asleep still. + Hurry, Sherm, every minute’s precious!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm’s “All right” drifted from him on the run. He was + already on his way to the stable. He realized that Jane knew more about + fire fighting than he did. + </p> + <p> + Jane hurried to the cottage. Marian listened to her news, white to the + lips. + </p> + <p> + “Annie can take Jilly. Perhaps I’d better ride over after Mr. + Benton.” + </p> + <p> + “Marian,” protested Chicken Little, “there isn’t + time. And if Mr. Benton’s home, he has probably seen it, too, and is + trying to protect his own place. No, we’ve got to work fast. Unless + we can run a fire guard before the fire reaches that tall grass on the + division line, the whole place is a goner! It isn’t coming very fast + yet. Here, I’ll run with Jilly <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_308"></a>308</span>over to the house and you put on a pair of + Frank’s trousers–your skirts might catch. I’ll get that + old pair of Ernest’s. Hurry, Marian, hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gathered up Jilly and started on the run. + </p> + <p> + Both Marian and Jane reached the stable yard just as Sherm drove the heavy + farm wagon clattering out of the gate. They hurriedly climbed in and Sherm + lashed the horses into a gallop. As they passed the cottage, Marian + exclaimed: “Did you get matches either of you?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm slowed up the team and examined his pockets. + </p> + <p> + “A handful.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop a moment–I’ll run fetch a box. It takes a lot.” + Chicken Little was over the wheel before the words were fairly out of her + mouth. + </p> + <p> + She was back in a jiffy with the matches, which she proceeded to divide + among them, while the horses leaped forward again. + </p> + <p> + “Stop on the backbone where the Santa Fe trail strikes the road.” + </p> + <p> + Precisely four minutes later Sherm pulled up the panting team. Chicken + Little promptly took command. She had been out many times with her father + and brothers and knew exactly what to do. + </p> + <p> + “Wet your mop–take a bucket of water and fire <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_309"></a>309</span>right along the + trail, Marian,–that buffalo grass burns slow. Call if it starts to + get away from you. I’ll begin there by the hedge. Drive about fifty + yards farther on, Sherm,–the horses will stand. Fill all the buckets + and wet the extra mops. We’re liable to want them in a rush.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Jane, save your breath–you’ll need it. + Careful there, Mrs. Morton, beat out the flames along the trail as you go. + Never mind how fast it whoops the other way. Cæsar’s ghost! that + fire is getting close!” + </p> + <p> + The waving, irregular lines of flame on the hillside were coming steadily + on, now leaping up several feet high as the breeze freshened, now creeping + close to the ground when the gusts died away. The wind was fitful. + </p> + <p> + Marian and Sherm both had their trail of fire flickering into a blaze + before Chicken Little got hers kindled. Her hands shook so she could + hardly hold the match. The first flickered and went out, a second, then a + third, blackened, before she could coax the stubbly grass to burn. She + caught up a bunch of weeds, set it blazing in her hand and dragged it + swiftly along the ground. Tiny swirls of yellow flame wavered in her wake, + crackled feebly for an instant in the shorter herbage, then, reaching out + tongues into the longer blue stem beyond, leaped forward like a frolicsome + animal. Sherm’s and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_310"></a>310</span>Marian’s + lines of fire were eating their way merrily toward hers on each side. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to beat out the flame in the Buffalo grass, which formed their + safety line toward the house, and the three soon had several hundred feet + of fire running to meet those menacing flames on the neighboring hillside. + For a while it seemed almost pretty play save for that haunting dread of + disaster. But the dripping mops were heavy for girls’ wrists and + arms, the constant stooping and rising and the lifting of the heavy + buckets pulled painfully on aching muscles. They must backfire for a third + of a mile before they dared hope the place was safe. + </p> + <p> + A field of winter wheat adjoining the wagon road where they had started, + and extending down to the bank of Big John, was the best of protection to + the lower half of the farm. West from this, there was neither track nor + field to break the tindery sweeps of prairie grass, until the strip of + breaking on the north boundary of the pasture was reached. The old Santa + Fe trail along which they were firing, fortunately extended to within some + two hundred yards of the breaking, and was their safeguard against the + ever-present danger of letting the fire get away from them to the rear. + </p> + <p> + Older heads would have selected that hundred yards of high grass as a + starting place, while they <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_311"></a>311</span>were + fresh and best able to cope with its perils. Chicken Little was leaving it + to the last. Swiftly as the three worked, the head fire was rapidly + gaining on them. Again and again, one of them glanced toward the house in + the hope that Jim Bart might have returned, or some neighbor have seen + their danger and be on the way to help. Not a human being was in sight in + any direction. + </p> + <p> + Marian straightened up with a groan and glanced despairingly at the head + fire. Sherm’s gaze followed hers anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “We’ve got to do better than this, girls. Here, Chicken + Little, make a torch of some of those resinous weeds–those long + crackly ones–and fire just as fast as you can. I’ll follow + with the mop and yell if I can’t manage it.” + </p> + <p> + The plan worked well for a time–their haven of hope, the brown strip + of breaking, seemed to move steadily nearer. But Chicken Little and Marian + were fast becoming exhausted. The main fire was now so close that its + smoke was beginning to drift in their faces. Prairie chickens and quail, + startled and confused by the double line of flame, whirred above their + heads, uncertain how to seek safety. A terrified jack rabbit leaped up + almost at Sherm’s feet. Rabbits, ground squirrels, one lone skunk, + and even an occasional coyote, darted past them. Back at the road where + they had begun, the head fire was already <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_312"></a>312</span>meeting their line of back fire and dying down + in sullen smoke. Still, that hundred yards of blue stem was untouched. + </p> + <p> + They paused a moment at its edge in hurried consultation. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s souse all the mops–dripping wet–and trail + across first,” suggested Chicken Little in short, labored gasps. She + had been running for several minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and then fire back. Christ!–we must hurry!” Sherm, + too, was breathless. “Can you stick it out a few minutes longer, + Marian?” + </p> + <p> + Marian Morton’s face was drawn and colorless. She nodded and rested + a moment, leaning on her mop. + </p> + <p> + For the next sixty-five yards the blows of the wet mops rained down with + the precision of clock work. Twice the flames started in quick eddies back + of their line, but, panting, the girls almost sobbing, they beat them + back. The smoke was growing stifling. The wind, freshening, blew it from + both fires full in their faces. They could see only a few feet ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Light another torch and run, Chicken Little–there’s no + time to lose–we must chance it!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little obeyed silently. Half way to the breaking she stumbled and + fell. Her torch of twisted grass flew from her hand, scattering the + burning fragments about her. Before she could get <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_313"></a>313</span>to her feet, the + grass was ablaze all around. Quick-witted Sherm threw her a mop, then beat + his way toward her. Marian, summoning her last remaining strength, ran to + help, but sank to the ground in a faint before she could reach Jane. + </p> + <p> + Sherm and Chicken Little, beating, stamping madly, did not see her fall. + The flames fairly licked up the long grass. They beat them out around Jane + only to see them spread in an ever-increasing circle. Chicken Little’s + legs gave way under her and she sank helplessly down, watching the rushing + fire. Sherm struggled on with parched throat and stinging eyes, but he, + too, was fast becoming exhausted in the unequal fight, when a strong pair + of hands seized the mop from his straining arms and rained swift blows on + the flaming grass. Answering blows resounded from four other stout pairs + of hands and an irregular line of charred vegetation was soon all that was + left to tell the tale of the danger they had escaped. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, we got here in time!” Captain Clarke ejaculated + fervently, raising Marian’s head and dashing water in her face to + restore her. + </p> + <p> + “We’re so shut in by the timber at our place, I didn’t + dream the fire was in this part of the country till one of the hands went + up in the pasture. We mounted and came double quick, I tell you. And we’d + have got here quicker, if I’d known what straits <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_314"></a>314</span>you were in. You’re + a plucky lot! Easy there, Mrs. Morton, you are all right, and the fire is + safe to smoke out at its leisure. Here, drink a drop of this whiskey.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm had gathered up Chicken Little and carried her beyond the smoke, + then dropped down beside her with a sigh to recover his breath. He felt + numb and so dazed he hardly heeded what the Captain was saying. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well done for, yourself, aren’t you, lad?” one + of the men inquired. “You sure knew exactly what to do, if you are a + tenderfoot.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm roused himself enough to twist the corners of his mouth into his + wonted smile. + </p> + <p> + “Me? I didn’t do anything–Chicken Little was the boss of + this gang.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0314.jpg" id="img036" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_17"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_315"></a>315</span> + <img src="images/p0315.jpg" id="img037" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LOST OYSTER SUPPER + </h2> + <p> + Thanksgiving came and went its turkey-lined way rather lonesomely. + Christmas preparations also lacked their usual zest. + </p> + <p> + “Everything seems to have caved in round where Ernest was,” + Chicken Little confided to Marian. “You see, we always talked + everything over and planned our Christmas together. Sherm takes Ernest’s + place in lots of ways, but, of course, he isn’t interested in what I’m + making for Mother, or in helping me make $5.25 go clear round the family + and piece out for Katy and Gertie besides.” + </p> + <p> + “If sympathy is all you need, Jane, I can lend you a listening ear.” + Marian crocheted another scallop. + </p> + <p> + “I’d be thankful for a few suggestions, too, I can’t + think of anything to send Ernest. When he <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_316"></a>316</span>has to have everything regulation, and the + government furnishes him with every single thing it wants him to have, why–it’s + awful.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I agree with you–I’ve been racking my brains for + Ernest, too. Mother is patiently knitting him a muffler, which I know he + won’t be permitted to wear, but I haven’t the heart to + discourage her–she gets so much comfort out of it. Uncle Sam should + be more considerate of fond female relatives. He might at least tolerate a + few tidies and hand-painted shovels or a home-made necktie.” + </p> + <p> + “Or a throw or a plush table cover with chenille embroidery. Mamie + Jenkins is making one for Mr. Clay. He will be too cross for words. He + loathes Mamie, though he tries not to show it, and plush is his special + abomination. He says it reminds him of caterpillar’s fuzz.” + Chicken Little’s eyes danced maliciously. + </p> + <p> + Marian looked at her young sister-in-law meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Mamie doesn’t seem to be dear to your heart just now. Is she + too popular or too affected or too dressy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’s just too utterly too too all around. I do have lots + of fun with her–she can be awfully nice when she wants to be, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know–she swells up so, lots of times <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_317"></a>317</span>over things I’d + be ashamed to tell–they’re so silly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess Mamie’s pretty cheap, but as long as you make + friends with her, don’t rap her behind her back. It was all right to + tell me–I quizzed you anyhow. I wish you didn’t see so much of + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, she’s the only girl at school I can go with, who is + anywhere near my own age. The Kearns twins aren’t even clean–I + don’t like to go near them.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t think you would. Our public school system has its + drawbacks as well as its virtues. Well, Jane, be nice to Mamie, but don’t–don’t + be like her.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t worry; she’s going to town to school after + Christmas, so I sha’n’t see much more of her.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was still far from well, and she hung on Ernest’s + letters almost pathetically. Ernest, boy fashion, was inclined to write + long letters when he had something interesting to tell and preserve a + stony silence when he didn’t. Life at the academy was monotonous and + he had to work hard to keep up with his studies. Further, his father and + Frank suspected he was having many disagreeable experiences which he kept + from his family. These were still the days of rough hazing at the academy + and Ernest, being a western boy, big and strong and independent, was + likely to attract his full share of this unpleasant nagging. He revealed + something <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_318"></a>318</span>of + his experiences in a letter to Sherm. Sherm showed the letter to Chicken + Little and Chicken Little, vaguely worried, told her father. Dr. Morton + talked it over with Frank. + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t a thing you can do about it, Father. Most of it + does the boys more good than harm anyway. I talked to a West Pointer once + about the hazing there. He said some of it was pretty annoying and at + times decidedly rough, but that if a fellow behaved himself and took it + good-naturedly they soon let him alone. He said it was the best training + he had ever known for curing a growing boy of the big head. Don’t + worry–Ernest has sense–he’s all right.” + </p> + <p> + To Chicken Little, Ernest confided, two weeks before Christmas, that he + was getting confoundedly tired of having the same things to eat week after + week. “Say, Sis, if you and Mother would cook me up a lot of goodies + for Christmas, I’d like it better than anything you could do. Send + lots, so I can treat–a turkey and fixings.” + </p> + <p> + This letter did more for Mrs. Morton’s health than the doctor’s + tonic. She tied on her apron and set to making fruit cake and cookies and + every delicious and indigestible compound she could think of that would + stand packing and a four-days’ journey. Chicken Little and Sherm + spent their evenings making candy and picking out walnut meats to send. + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_319"></a>319</span>Dr. Morton + made the nine-mile trip to town on the coldest day of the season to insure + Ernest’s getting the box on the very day before Christmas. + </p> + <p> + The family at the ranch had a quiet holiday week. The day after New Year’s, + Jane was invited to come to town and stay over night to attend an amateur + performance of Fatinitza, a light opera the young people had staged for + the benefit of a struggling musical society. Chicken Little was excitedly + eager to go. Mrs. Morton deliberated for some time before she gave her + consent. Marian and Frank and Sherm all teased in her behalf, before it + was won. + </p> + <p> + Sherm drove her in, and Frank, having business in town the following day + with a cattle buyer from Kansas City, volunteered to bring her home. Jane + wore her Christmas present, a crimson cashmere with fine knife plaitings + of crimson satin for its adorning. Frank lent her his sealskin cap and she + felt very grand, and looked piquantly radiant, as she revolved for her + mother’s inspection before slipping into her big coat. Sherm, + standing waiting, inspected her, too. + </p> + <p> + “Scrumptious, Lady Jane, you look like that red bird I’ve been + trying to catch out in the evergreen by the gate.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton shook her head disapprovingly. “No compliments, Sherm, + Jane is just a little girl and she must remember that pretty is as pretty + does. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_320"></a>320</span>Don’t + forget, dear, to thank Mrs. Webb for her hospitality when you come away. + Are you sure your ears are clean?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mother, I’m not a baby!” Chicken Little protested + indignantly. “You talk as if I were about five years old.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear daughter, your mother will speak to you as she sees fit. + Have you got the high overshoes? I think, perhaps, you’d better take + Father’s muffler. Sherm, have you both buffalo robes?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little relieved her feelings by making a little moue at Sherm. He + winked discreetly in return. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” she said disgustedly after they were started, “won’t + mothers ever let you grow up? I am a whole inch taller than Mother now, + and half the time she treats me as if I didn’t have the sense of a + chicken.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see you’re the only girl in the family, and you’ve + been the littlest chicken so long your mother kind of likes to shut her + eyes to all those extra inches you’ve been collecting. By the way, + Miss Morton, I don’t notice that muffler your mother mentioned, and + I think you’ll be cold enough before we get to town to wish you had + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t suppose I was going to wear that clumsy thing? I + can snuggle down under the robes if I get cold.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_321"></a>321</span>“No, I + didn’t suppose, so I brought the red scarf Mother gave me Christmas, + for your ears. They’d be frosted sure without anything. Did you + think your pride would keep you warm, Chicken Little?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was inclined to resent this delicate attention; Sherm + seemed to be putting her in the same class her mother had. But her ears + were already beginning to tingle as they left the timber and got the full + force of the wind on the open prairie. Sherm was swinging the bays along + at a good pace. The cutter glided smoothly over the frozen snow. She + submitted meekly while he awkwardly wrapped the muffler over her cap with + his free hand. The soft wool was deliciously comfortable. She neglected, + however, to mention this fact to him. + </p> + <p> + “Too stubborn to own up, Lady Jane?” + </p> + <p> + Jane stole a glance at the quizzical face turned in her direction. Then + she evaded shamelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, don’t you just adore to skate?” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + Chicken Little was in a pulsing state of excitement that evening as she + listened to the pretty, lilting music and watched gorgeously clad young + people, many of whom she recognized, moving demurely about the little + stage. To others it was merely a very creditable amateur performance; to + Chicken Little, it opened a whole new world of ideas and imagining. She + had been to a theatre but twice in <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_322"></a>322</span>her whole life, once to Uncle Tom’s + Cabin and once to a horrible presentation of Hamlet, which resulted in her + disliking the play to the day of her death. She loved the light and color + and harmony of it all. She delighted in it so much that she sighed because + it would be so soon over. + </p> + <p> + “What are you sighing for, Jane? Don’t you like it?” her + hostess inquired. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gave a little wriggle of joy. “Like it? I just love + it–it’s like butterflies keeping house. Don’t you wish + everything was like that–pretty and gay, with all the lovers getting + things straightened out right?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, Jane, do you get all that out of this poor little comic + opera? I must have you come in to all our amateur things if you love music + so.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t love music so very much–I hate to practice. I + shouldn’t care for their singing very much by itself, it’s + seeing the actors and thinking how they feel–and their pretty + clothes and—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Webb laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, I envy you–you are going to see so many + things that most people shut their eyes to.” + </p> + <p> + Jane studied about this, but she hardly liked to ask what things Mrs. Webb + meant, because that lady seemed to expect her to know, and she felt she + would appear stupid not to. She lay awake a long time that night; the + music seemed to be splashing <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_323"></a>323</span>over + her in little waves of melody. Even after she had once fallen asleep, she + awakened to find her brain still humming the insistent measures. The next + morning she went downtown with her hostess and met Mamie Jenkins in a + store. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Chicken Little, I didn’t know you were in town? Your + brother didn’t say anything about your being here.” + </p> + <p> + “Frank? Is he in already?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I just saw him. Say, did you know a crowd of us are going out + to his house to-night to an oyster supper?” + </p> + <p> + “No, who’s going?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a lot of the town boys and girls, and Grant Stowe and me. John + Hardy asked him if a crowd of us couldn’t come out to-night and + surprise your sister, and Frank said come along, he’d have some hot + oysters for us. The boys have got a big bobsled from the livery stable. I + bet we have a lovely time. Why don’t you and Sherm stay in and go + out with us–I guess there’ll be room. Anyhow, you can always + crowd more into a bobsled, it’s more fun when you’re packed + in.” + </p> + <p> + Mamie giggled expressively. + </p> + <p> + Jane was surprised to learn that Sherm had come in with Frank and she was + also extremely doubtful whether her mother would approve of her waiting to + come out with the party. John Hardy’s crowd <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_324"></a>324</span>was one of the + gayest in town and they were very much grown up. But her outing the + previous evening had given her a taste for grown-up things; she was eager + for the lark and resolved to tease Frank to let her stay in. + </p> + <p> + Frank studied the matter for several minutes, but finally consented rather + reluctantly. He saw Sherm was also keen for the fun. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Sis, that set are pretty old for a kid like you and I’ll + have a time squaring myself with Mother. But you don’t have many + good times and Sherm’s steady enough to look after you. They are + planning to start early. I guess you’ll get home by eight.” + </p> + <p> + Frank left for the ranch about three o’clock to warn Marian of her + surprise party. Mrs. Webb had insisted that Sherm stay with them for an + early supper. The party had arranged to start at six. With a good team + they should reach the ranch easily by eight, have two hours for + merry-making, and get back to town by midnight. + </p> + <p> + The cold had moderated through the day; by five o’clock, the sky was + leaden gray and it looked like snow. Some of the fathers and mothers were + doubtful as to whether they ought to risk so long a drive. But the weather + was ideal, if it only didn’t snow, and there might not be another + night during the holidays when they could all go. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_325"></a>325</span>The + expedition had bad luck from the start. The livery man, disliking the + weather prospects, had had an inferior team harnessed to the big sled. + John Hardy and the other young men stood for their rights and after a long + wrangle, succeeded in getting what they wanted. But this had consumed + precious time. They drove out of the livery barn at six-thirty instead of + six, as they had intended. Then two or three of the girls were not ready. + One of the last called for, having sat with her wraps on for over + three-quarters of an hour, had finally removed them and her party frock as + well, in disgust, thinking the jaunt had been given up on account of the + weather. By the time she had dressed herself afresh it was a quarter past + seven. There was still one young man to be picked up at the hotel. He, + too, had grown tired of waiting and had started out to hunt the sleigh. + Ten minutes more were consumed searching for him. The clock in the + schoolhouse tower was striking the half hour as the sleigh load passed the + last house in the little town, and turned into the country road leading to + the ranch. + </p> + <p> + Sherm pulled out his watch. “Whew, Frank and Marian will have a nice + wait for us! We can’t possibly make it till after nine.” + </p> + <p> + The next two miles went with a dash. The moonlight was a dim gray half + light instead of the silvery radiance they had counted upon. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_326"></a>326</span>“Those + clouds must be beastly heavy–there is scarcely a star to be seen,” + ejaculated John Hardy, who was on the driver’s seat with a sprightly + girl of nineteen for his companion. “What’ll you bet the snow + catches us before we get home to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll bet you it catches us before we get out to Morton’s,” + retorted one of the other young men. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m glad I am taking my turn at driving going out, if + that’s the case. I shouldn’t like the job of keeping the road + on these prairies in a nice blinding snowstorm.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s just because you’re a town dude,” said + Grant Stowe boastfully. “It is just as easy to follow a country road + as a street in town if you only know the country.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Grant, if it snows, we’ll let you drive home.” + </p> + <p> + “If it snows?” exclaimed one of the girls. “I felt a + flake on my nose this very minute.” + </p> + <p> + The party surveyed the sky. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are just dreaming, Kate.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody blew you a kiss and it cooled off on the way,” + teased another. + </p> + <p> + “Just wait a minute, smarties. There–there was another!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I felt one, too!” exclaimed Mamie. + </p> + <p> + “You’re right, it’s coming.” Sherm stared at the + sky in some concern. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_327"></a>327</span>“Better + whoop it right along, John,” advised one of the young men + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure that we shouldn’t be sensible to turn round + and call this frolic off for to-night,” John Hardy replied. + </p> + <p> + There was a chorus of No’s. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, who’s afraid of a little snow? Besides, we’d + disappoint the Mortons and Jane’s mother would be frantic if she + didn’t come. Don’t crawfish, John Hardy.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m equal to anything the rest of you are. I merely thought + it might be rough on the girls, and occasion some alarm to other fond + relatives in town, if we failed to get back to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop your croaking!” + </p> + <p> + “There will be no trouble getting back.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, the horses can find the way if we can’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, start something to sing and shut off these ravens!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd sang lustily for the next twenty minutes, then the snow began + coming down steadily and the majority of the young people commenced to + disappear under the robes and blankets. + </p> + <p> + “The pesky stuff is getting inside my collar!” exclaimed one + of the men who had insisted upon keeping his head out. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_328"></a>328</span>“Why + don’t you tear yourself from the scenery and come under cover?” + asked Mamie pertly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Smith, I’m only holding one of Mamie’s hands. You + may keep the other warm.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s not either. Don’t you believe him, Mr. Smith,” + Mamie protested. + </p> + <p> + John Hardy spoke to the girl beside him. He had been watching the road + ahead too closely for several minutes to do any talking. + </p> + <p> + “Hadn’t you better go back with the others–there’s + no need for you to get wet and cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am all right–it isn’t cold–very.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it is going to be–the wind is rising and it’s + coming right in our faces. We’re a pack of fools to go!” + </p> + <p> + “We must be nearly half way there, aren’t we?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so–I have never been out to the Morton ranch. Well, + if worst comes to worst, I guess they’ll keep us all night.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd was beginning to quiet down. By the time they had covered two + more miles the wind was blowing the snow in their faces with stinging + force. John Hardy was having trouble to keep the horses in the road. They, + too, recoiled from the snow drifting in their faces. He finally persuaded + his companion to go back under the robes. Sherm volunteered to take her + place. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like the look of things,” said Hardy in <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_329"></a>329</span>a low tone as Sherm + climbed up beside him. “Can you tell where we are?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm stared at the snow-covered waste ahead and tried to recognize some + familiar land mark in the white gloom. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think so. That was Elm Creek you crossed some time back. We + must be about half way from Elm to Big John.” + </p> + <p> + “How far now?” + </p> + <p> + “Three miles.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you see the time?” + </p> + <p> + “Nine-twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “The dickens, we ought to be there!” + </p> + <p> + “It oughtn’t to be long now. Let me take the reins–your + hands must be cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute till I start the circulation. I feel sort of + responsible for this gang, because I got up this fool enterprise.” + Hardy clapped his hands together vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t be bad except for the wind!” Hardy said + presently. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the worst of Kansas, there always is a wind!” + Sherm had not yet been entirely converted to the charms of the sunflower + state. + </p> + <p> + When Hardy took the reins again, Sherm still peered ahead, watching the + road. He had been finding something vaguely unfamiliar about the + landscape, though this was not strange since neither house <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_330"></a>330</span>nor tree nor + haystack was visible through the storm until they were almost upon it. + Then it loomed up suddenly shrouded and spectral. This feeling of + strangeness grew upon him and he felt uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “Stop the team a minute, Hardy.” Sherm got down and went to + the horses’ heads, peering all about. He scraped the snow away with + his foot and examined the ground. + </p> + <p> + He let out a shrill whistle of dismay, as he uncovered grass spears + instead of the hard-trodden road bed. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Hardy, we’re off the road. I thought so from the way the + sled was dragging.” + </p> + <p> + Hardy climbed hastily down with an exclamation that sounded profane. The + boys in the sleigh also piled hurriedly out. They soon assured themselves + of the sorrowful fact. + </p> + <p> + “What can we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t there a house somewhere near where we can inquire?” + </p> + <p> + “What did you fellows go to sleep for when you were driving, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to go back on your tracks till you find the road + again.” + </p> + <p> + Questions and offers of advice were numerous. + </p> + <p> + Sherm had walked a short distance back, exploring. He returned in time to + hear this last remark. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble is, Grant, the snow hasn’t left us <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_331"></a>331</span>any tracks. Two + hundred yards back you can hardly see where we came.” + </p> + <p> + The others began to wake to the seriousness of the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you any idea where we are, Dart?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the faintest notion, except that we are somewhere between Elm + and Big John. Perhaps Jane might know. She usually has a sixth sense for + direction. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little,” he called, “do you mind getting out + and seeing if you can tell us where we are?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was on the ground with a spring before Sherm could help + her. She strained her eyes through the gloom. She, too, examined the + ground, then, accompanied by Sherm and Hardy, waded through the snow for + several hundred yards in each direction, the men kicking the snow in the + hope of finding the track. Finally, Chicken Little gave it up. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know a blessed thing more than the rest of you. But I + have the feeling we must be near Charlie Wattles’ place–you + know that old darkey. You see the wind was right in our faces most of the + way, and it isn’t now. It’s coming obliquely–course the + wind may have changed. Let’s try heading west a while–and see + if we can find the road. Let me sit up there with you and Sherm; I might + see something I’d recognize.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_332"></a>332</span>“Chicken + Little, you’d freeze,” objected Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Not any sooner than you will, Sherman Dart.” + </p> + <p> + “We can wrap her up in a blanket and she might help us–we have + got to get out of this some way. It’s ten o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + They drove about slowly for half an hour, but they could find nothing that + looked like a road. Some of the sleigh load were openly apprehensive and + inclined to blame Hardy for their plight, but for the most part they were + plucky and good-natured, trying to turn off their growing fear with jests. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little glued her eyes to the dimness ahead. + </p> + <p> + Sherm suggested that they give the horses their head. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll try to go back to town if we do, and I don’t + believe they could hold out–that off one is blowing pretty badly + now. This snow is heavy as mud to pull through.” Hardy looked + dubious. + </p> + <p> + “Turn due west, Mr. Hardy–we can’t be far from Big John.” + </p> + <p> + Hardy obeyed and they drove another half hour, seeing nothing save the + fluttering snowflakes and the snowy wastes opening out a few feet ahead as + they advanced. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, your theory is all right, but it doesn’t seem + to work,” Sherm remarked regretfully. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_333"></a>333</span>In the + meanwhile, time had also been moving along at the ranch. The big sitting + room at the cottage was brightly lighted and glowingly warm from an open + wood fire. By eight o’clock, coffee was steaming on the back of the + kitchen stove, the extension table pulled out to its full length, was set + with soup plates and cups and silver. Piles of doughnuts and baskets of + apples and walnuts stood awaiting the sharp appetites the Mortons knew the + cold ride would bring to them. Marian had the milk and oysters ready for + the stew and sat down to rest a moment before the arrival of the guests. + She hardly noticed the clock until the hand pointed to half-past eight. + </p> + <p> + “My, they’re late!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Frank got up and went to the door. He encountered Dr. Morton just coming + in. + </p> + <p> + “When did you say those youngsters were coming? It’s snowing + like fury.” He paused on the porch to give himself another shake. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe they’ll try to come out to-night. I + guess you’ve had all your trouble for nothing. I only wish Chicken + Little and Sherm had come home with you.” + </p> + <p> + Frank, being a good many years nearer to understanding the rashness of + youth than his father, disagreed with him. + </p> + <p> + “I bet they tried all right, but they may have had <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_334"></a>334</span>to give it up. I + wonder how long it’s been snowing this way. I haven’t been out + since supper.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton sat and visited for a half hour, then said he guessed he’d + better go back to Mother. She was worrying a little about her baby being + out such a night. + </p> + <p> + “She needn’t,” he concluded, “even a child like + Jane would have sense enough not to start on a nine-mile ride in such + weather.” + </p> + <p> + After his father had gone, Frank put on his coat and went down the lane + with a lantern. He came back presently and sat down by the fire without + saying anything. + </p> + <p> + Marian saw he was worried. “You don’t think they’ve got + lost, do you, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what to think. I hope Father is right and they + had sense enough not to start. But I wish to goodness I hadn’t let + Jane stay in.” + </p> + <p> + They sat there listening for every sound until the clock struck ten. Frank + had twice gone to the door, imagining he heard sleigh bells. He got to his + feet again at the sound of the clock. + </p> + <p> + “You might as well go to bed, dear. We sha’n’t see them + to-night, but I’ll sit up till eleven myself to make sure.” + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0334-insert.jpg" id="img038" alt="" /> + <p class="center caption"> + A half hour later when they were warmed + </p> + </div> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_335"></a>335</span>Marian waited + a little while longer, then took his advice. Frank sat by the fire and + pretended to read until five minutes of twelve, then he, too, gave up the + vigil as hopeless. + </p> + <p> + At ten minutes past two they both sat up with a start at the sound of + sleigh bells. An instant later there was a vigorous pounding on the door. + </p> + <p> + Frank stared into the darkness for one confused instant, then leaped out + of bed, and wrapping a dressing gown about him, flung open the door. + </p> + <p> + Twelve numbed and snow-covered figures stumbled into the room. Two of the + men were half carrying one of the girls. + </p> + <p> + “Fire up quick, Frank, we’re most frozen! And get some hot + water!” Sherm exclaimed, suiting the action to the word by stirring + up the coals of the dying fire and piling on wood. + </p> + <p> + It was not until a half hour later when they were warmed and fed, that the + Mortons had time to listen to any connected account of the night’s + adventures. Frank had speedily summoned his father to prescribe for + frosted cheeks and fingers and toes. Later, it was discovered that John + Hardy had a badly sprained wrist. Marian and Mrs. Morton made the girls + comfortable and finished preparing the belated oyster supper. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad we didn’t lose this oyster supper altogether,” + said Grant Stowe feelingly. “I never tasted anything better.” + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” a half dozen laughing voices echoed. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_336"></a>336</span>“I wasn’t + so darned sure an hour ago that some of us were ever going to taste + anything again,” said John Hardy soberly. + </p> + <p> + “Things didn’t look exactly rosy, specially when we got + spilled out,” one of the girls added. + </p> + <p> + “What, did you have an upset?” Dr. Morton looked as if this + were the last straw. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s how Hardy sprained his wrist!” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little had just assured us that if we would drive a little + farther west, we should surely find something, when we struck the sidehill + and went over as neat as you please.” Mamie enjoyed this thrust at + Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we found something, didn’t we?” defended Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “I should say we found out how deep the snow was.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the sidehill made Jane sure we were near the creek, and + then she saw the trees and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and then she found it wasn’t the creek at all, but the + Wattles’ place.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” exclaimed Frank, “you didn’t get over to + black Charlie’s? Why, that was three miles out of your road!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Frank, and you ought to have seen him. He was scared to death + when we came pounding on his door in the middle of the night.” + Chicken Little giggled at the recollection. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_337"></a>337</span>“And + there was a trundle bed full of pickanninies and they kept popping their + heads up. They were so ridiculous–with their little pigtails + sticking up all over their heads, and their bead eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, old Charlie warmed us up all right and started us back on the + road again,” said John Hardy gratefully. + </p> + <p> + “And there’s another thing sure,” said Marian, + interrupting this flow of reminiscence, “you can’t go back to + town to-night, and you must be tired to death, all of you. Mother Morton, + if you will take the girls over with you, Frank and I will make some + pallets by the fire for these boys, and let them get some sleep.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + The real sport of this excursion came the next day when Frank Morton + hitched an extra team on in front of the livery horses and drove the party + back to town himself, to make sure they did not come to grief again in the + piled-up drifts. But Chicken Little and Sherm were not along. They watched + them drive off with never a pang of envy. + </p> + <p> + “I have had enough bobsled riding to do me for this winter,” + said Jane wearily. Her evening at Fatinitza seemed a thousand years away. + </p> + <p> + “Ditto, yours truly!” And Sherm yawned luxuriously. + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_18"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_338"></a>338</span> + <img src="images/p0338.jpg" id="img039" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + AN APRIL FOOL FROLIC + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Morton and Marian were sitting by the great open fire at the cottage + sewing for Jilly. Jilly herself had constructed a wonderful vehicle of two + chairs hitched to the center table, and she was vainly trying to persuade + Huz and Buz to occupy seats in this luxurious equipage. Lazy Buz, having + once been dragged up into a chair, stayed put, though he looked aggrieved, + but Huz had his eye on the braided rag rug in front of the fireplace. The + moment Jilly’s gaze was attracted elsewhere, he would jump softly + down and curl up on the rug. + </p> + <p> + Marian had risen three times to restore him to Jilly because she mourned + so loudly, but she finally began to sympathize with the pup. + </p> + <p> + “Let him be, Honey, you’ve got Buz for company. Huz doesn’t + want to play.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_339"></a>339</span>Jilly opened + her mouth to wail. Then she suddenly changed her mind, climbed down, and + going over to Huz began whispering vigorously into his ear. Her warm + breath tickled Huz and he flopped his ear to drive away the annoying + insect. Jilly beamed, calling joyfully to her mother: “Huz say ess, + Mamma, Huz say ess.” + </p> + <p> + “But Jilly, Huz can’t talk.” + </p> + <p> + “He nod he’s ear, Mamma. Huz nod he’s ear.” + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate Huz went up into the chair once more. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton glanced out the window where the March wind was whipping the + bare branches of the cherry trees into mournful complaining. Eddying + leaves fluttered from the heaps accumulated in fence corners or beneath + the friendly shelter of the evergreens. A huge tumble weed went whirling + down the road, passed on by each succeeding gust. In and out of the + cedars, the robins were flying, prospecting for new nests. She pushed back + her hair and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t seem possible that April is almost here. Ernest + has been gone nearly a school year. I am beginning to realize that I sha’n’t + see much more of my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mother Morton, he is doing so beautifully and he likes the + life. You couldn’t keep him with <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_340"></a>340</span>you much longer, even if he were not in the + academy. Besides, you still have Jane.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton sighed again. + </p> + <p> + “That is the worst of this ranch life. Jane is growing so fast I + shall soon have to be sending her away to school. If we only lived some + place where she could be right with me till she finished her education.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mother Morton, I am glad she can’t. It is the best part + of a girl’s education to go away from all the home coddling and have + to rely upon herself. I wouldn’t give anything for what I learned by + being away from family and friends, and having to exert myself to make + people like me, instead of taking it for granted.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t doubt what you say is true, Marian, but Ernest is + gone, and you don’t know what a wrench it is going to be to send my + baby away, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you thinking of sending her next year?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I must, unless I can persuade Father to move to town for + the winter so she can go to the High School. It isn’t merely the + studies–I am most dissatisfied with her associations here.” + </p> + <p> + “I know–the Creek is certainly a little crude. Still I think + Jane is pretty sensible. And she is learning a lot about human nature–human + nature without its party clothes. It’s good for her, Mother, if she + doesn’t get too much of it.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_341"></a>341</span>“What’s + good for whom?” Dr. Morton, coming in, was attracted by Marian’s + earnest tone. + </p> + <p> + “Jane, and the effect District Thirteen is having on her,” + Marian explained. + </p> + <p> + “I was just saying, Father, that she is getting too old to be + associating with Tom, Dick, and Harry the way she is doing up at the + schoolhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “There you go again, Mother. You don’t go about enough among + the neighbors to know what good kindly people they are. Of course, they + are plain, but the Tom, Dick, and Harry you complain of, are more + wholesome than lots of more stylish youngsters I know. I wish you’d + try to be a little more neighborly. I am constantly hearing little thrusts + about our family being stuck up. Frank will bear me out in this.” + </p> + <p> + Frank had followed his father and was warming his hands in the blaze. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Creek thinks the Morton family has a good opinion of + itself, all right. But I have been thinking for some time that it wouldn’t + hurt us any to have some sort of a merry-making and invite all the + neighbors in.” Frank looked at Marian. + </p> + <p> + “What could we have, Frank?” Marian inquired, her brow + puckered a little. + </p> + <p> + “Well, April Fool’s Day is next Wednesday–why not get up + a frolic for that evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Just for the young folks?” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_342"></a>342</span>“No, + men, women, and children. Invite the families. Send out an invitation to + the whole Creek. There will be a lot who can’t come. Cook up plenty + of stuff and we can play tricks–they won’t need much + entertaining. How would that suit you, Chicken Little?” + </p> + <p> + Jane had just strayed in to join the family group and was listening with + interest. + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be bully.” + </p> + <p> + “Jane, where did you pick up such a coarse expression? Father, that’s + just what I complain of. How am I to teach my daughter to be a gentle + woman, when she is constantly hearing vulgar language?” + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little is old enough to know better than to use such words, + but she probably got that from Ernest or Sherm, if the truth were known.” + Frank laughed. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked injured. + </p> + <p> + “Why, bully isn’t a by-word–or strong language–and + Ernest said it a lot. You never said anything to him about it’s + being vulgar.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear daughter, can I never make you understand that little + ladies may not do everything their brothers do?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care, Mother, I’m sick of hearing about ladies, + and if bully is so vulgar, I don’t see why it isn’t vulgar + when a boy says it. You expect Ernest <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_343"></a>343</span>to be a gentleman, don’t you, just as + much as you do me to be a lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Chicken Little, don’t speak to your mother that way,” + Dr. Morton reproved her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was more severe. + </p> + <p> + “You may go to your room and remain until you can address your + mother respectfully, my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Frank’s plan was carried out. There were no formal invitations + issued. Frank and Dr. Morton and Jim Bart spoke to every neighbor they met + for the next few days, inviting them to come to an April Fool frolic at + seven on the evening of April first, and asking them to pass the + invitation along to the other residents of Big John. Chicken Little and + Sherm rode over to give Captain Clarke a special invitation, fearing he + might not have become sufficiently used to Creek ways to come on the more + general bidding. + </p> + <p> + The Captain was charmed and begged leave to send Wing over to help that + evening. Wing delighted in every new experience he was having on the + Creek. He grinned joyously at the prospect. + </p> + <p> + The entire Morton family entered into the preparations for this novel + party with enthusiasm. Even Jilly and Huz and Buz caught the excitement of + something unusual going on, and hung round, and got under everybody’s + feet, more successfully than usual. Jilly had the privilege of scraping + icing bowls <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_344"></a>344</span>while + Huz and Buz looked enviously on. They licked their sticky chops + ecstatically when Jilly turned the bowl over to them after she had done + her best with the big tin spoon. Her mother reproached her for letting the + pups eat out of one of the family dishes, but Jilly couldn’t see why + her mother was so particular. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton and Annie and Marian baked cakes and doughnuts and cookies and + mince pies and custard pies, and roasted turkeys and whole hams, until + pantry and cellar and spring house were all overflowing. It would be a + never-ending reproach, if there should not be an abundance for all who + might come, and no one could even guess how many would come. + </p> + <p> + “It looks like enough for a regiment,” said Mrs. Morton + wearily, dropping into a rocking chair on the afternoon of the + thirty-first day of March. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but country men do have such astonishing appetites. I am sure + it would feed all Centerville for twenty-four hours. Of course, some of + the things are not eatable,” Marian replied. + </p> + <p> + They had carried out the April Fool idea as much as possible without + spoiling the supper. Six nice brown doughnuts had wads of cotton concealed + in their tempting rings. These were to be mixed with the good ones. + Pickles just out of the brine, were to be put in the same dish with + deliciously perfect <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_345"></a>345</span>ones. + There was to be just enough of the false to keep the guests on the alert + and make fun. + </p> + <p> + While they were sitting there resting, Frank and Dr. Morton came in from a + trip to town. Frank tossed a package into Marian’s lap with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “These ought to do the work for somebody. I’d like to fool old + Jake Schmidt. It would be worth ten dollars to see his face–he is + such a screw about driving a bargain.” + </p> + <p> + Marian untied the string and opened the parcel, revealing a handful of the + most luscious-looking little cucumber pickles that ever lured the unwary. + </p> + <p> + “They certainly look all right,” said Marian, “what’s + the matter with them–salt?” + </p> + <p> + “Feel them.” + </p> + <p> + Marian picked one up gingerly as if she were afraid it might prick her or + explode in her hand. Then she threw back her head and laughed merrily. + </p> + <p> + “Frank, they are just perfect. I never should have guessed it. You + can fetch Jake all right with one of these. Let me know when you do, I’d + like to be round to see the fun.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you afraid you will hurt somebody’s feelings + with all these pranks? They don’t seem quite dignified some way for + grown up people.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just why we want to have them, Mother. The Creek + thinks the Morton family is entirely too <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_346"></a>346</span>grown up and stiff. They’ll be + good-natured, never fear.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Chicken Little and Sherm put their heads together. + </p> + <p> + “We just must find some way to fool Frank–I sha’n’t + be happy if we don’t.” Chicken Little bit her lips and + studied. “Can’t you think of something, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + “Not right off the bat, but if we keep our eyes open, we’ll + find a way. It would be jolly if we could do it before the crowd. They + would so love to see Frank have to take his own medicine. Say, this party + is going to be a Jim dandy!” + </p> + <p> + It had been decided to have the gathering at the cottage, as the big + sitting room and the bedroom adjoining would hold more people than Mrs. + Morton’s parlor, sitting room, and dining-room all three. Further, + the parlor, being separated from the other rooms by a short hallway, was + of use only for some little group who wished to be by themselves. Sherm + and Chicken Little were busy all day trimming up the pictures and the + windows with evergreen and bitter sweet berries, mixed with trailers from + the Japanese honeysuckle, which still showed green underneath where it had + escaped the hardest freezes. Marian flitted in occasionally with + suggestions, but the two did most of the work alone. Chicken Little began + by giving Sherm precise directions as to how <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_347"></a>347</span>he was to arrange each branch and spray, but, + presently, he began to try little effects of his own so much more charming + than hers, that she called Marian in to see. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly have a knack for decoration, Sherm. I never dreamed + you were artistic. Why didn’t you tell us? That spray against the + curtain is exquisite. Have you ever taken drawing lessons?” Marian + was both surprised and interested to discover this unexpected talent in + the self-contained lad. + </p> + <p> + “No, I have never taken real drawing–I used to copy little + geometrical designs at school along with the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you surely ought to have lessons. I shouldn’t wonder if + you had the making of an artist in you.” Marian hurried back to her + custards. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little went on tying evergreen into ropes, but Marian had put + several new ideas into her head. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to be an artist, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I want to be an architect.” + </p> + <p> + “You never said anything about it before.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use of talking? Doesn’t look as if I would + ever get the education to be one now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you can’t tell. Even if your father can’t send + you, maybe you could work your own way–Mr. Clay has.” Chicken + Little looked troubled; Sherm’s tone revealed a yearning she had not + suspected. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_348"></a>348</span>“Yes, I + could work my way if I had the chance. I guess Father is never going to be + well again and—” He paused for a moment as if it were hard to + go on. “Even if he lives, I may have to keep at work to support the + family. Mother never says anything, and Father never told me much about + his business–I don’t know how much we have, but I’m + afraid there isn’t a great deal left.” + </p> + <p> + There was a hopeless ring in his voice that hurt Chicken Little. She + wanted to double up her fist and attack somebody or something in Sherm’s + behalf. + </p> + <p> + “I think they–your mother ought to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mother doesn’t realize I am most grown–she–she + doesn’t think I amount to much I guess.” The boy had been + brooding; his manhood affronted because he had not been permitted to share + in the family councils. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t feel that way–she doesn’t mean to leave you + out, Sherm. You know it’s awfully hard to write things and you have + been away most a year.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just it. I’ve been away most a year, and Mother + doesn’t even hint at my coming back!” + </p> + <p> + “But Sherm, she’s so worried all the time about your father.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same, I bet your mother wouldn’t forget about Ernest + if your father was ill. I am the only boy in the family and I know I could + help, if they’d <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_349"></a>349</span>only + trust me. It’s being left out that hurts, Chicken Little. But forget + everything I’ve said. I didn’t mean to blab this way. I s’pose + Mother’s right–I can’t even keep my own affairs to + myself.” Sherm shut his lips together tightly. + </p> + <p> + Jane tactfully changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you’d have to know a lot to be an architect.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, right smart–I’d need a college education, and then + I’d like to go to Paris and study at the Beaux Arts.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s a school for architects and artists. I don’t + know very much about it myself. The New York architect who designed the + new court house at home told me I ought to go there, if I ever wanted to + be a real honest to goodness architect. I had a talk with him one day. He + said if I ever got ready to go, to write to him, and he would give me some + letters to people in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “My, wouldn’t that be grand to study in Paris? I most wish I + was a boy–they can do such wonderful things.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + The neighborhood gatherings began early. By half-past seven, hitching + posts and trees and fence were all in use for the teams. Frank was + pleased. + </p> + <p> + “If there is anything in numbers, this party is <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_350"></a>350</span>going to be a + success. Sure you have plenty to eat?” + </p> + <p> + Marian groaned. “Frank, I am dead sure we have all the food we can + possibly serve between now and midnight. I don’t see how we are ever + to manage.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry, I’ll impress about a dozen of the young + folks as waiters–they will like nothing better. The boys each have + one more pair of hands than they know what to do with. Look at the Raddon + boys over by the fireplace. They have put their hands in their pockets, + and taken them out, and dropped them by their sides, and picked up every + bit of bric-a-brac on the mantel, and smoothed back their hair, and Heaven + knows what else, during the last ten minutes. Hands are an awful + responsibility! It will be a Godsend to them to give them something to do.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little came out, after helping with wraps and seating guests, in a + gale of merriment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Marian, do take a peep at Mrs. Brown. She has a purple skirt + and a blue polonaise and a red bow on her hair, and she’s got her + hair banged in front and pulled back tight as can be behind.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Jane, they’re our guests.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, and I didn’t mean to be making fun–but Marian, + she’s a sight! And Jake Schmidt’s wife and sister have the + loveliest hand embroidered caps <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_351"></a>351</span>and aprons, with exquisite lace, that they + brought from the old country, and some of the other women are sort of + turning up their noses at them. I wish you’d go and say something + extra nice to them.” + </p> + <p> + Marian found her way to where Christine and Johanna Schmidt were shrinking + into a corner, painfully aware that their festal dress was very different + from their neighbors’. Marian asked after the children and said one + or two pleasant things to make them feel at home, then, raising her voice + a trifle so that the whole room might hear, she lifted a corner of Johanna’s + apron, exclaiming: “Where did you get this exquisite apron? I don’t + believe I have ever seen such a beautiful one. May I look at the lace?” + </p> + <p> + Johanna colored with pleasure. She forgot her shyness and explained + eagerly. Marian did not leave her until she had made every woman in that + part of the room admire both hers and Christine’s old country + handiwork, and they had promised to show her how to make the lace. There + was no more smiling at their unusual dress. Others followed Marian’s + example in asking to be taught the beautiful craft. Old Jake himself, who + had never before considered his women folk as amounting to much, was so + gratified by the attention they were receiving, that he was more offensive + than usual. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Frank, “I’ll fix Jake.” + </p> + <p> + The early part of the evening passed in visiting <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_352"></a>352</span>and games. Supper + was served at ten. There was a stir when the refreshments appeared. Word + had gone about that there was to be some hoaxing in connection with the + supper and everybody was firmly resolved not to be fooled. Marian allayed + suspicion by starting them off with delicious coffee and rolls and cold + ham and turkey. Having tasted these gingerly, and found them delicious, + both young and old grew less wary. Chicken Little came in demurely with a + great dish of pickles. The Creek loved pickles. It helped itself + plentifully. Captain Clarke got the first taste of brine, but after one + surprised grimace, he went on eating it heroically, while he watched the + others. Old Jake promptly fixed his eye on a nice firm-looking green one. + He lifted the fork awkwardly and attempted to take the pickle. The pickle + slid from under the fork as if it had been greased. Jake was terribly + afraid of being a laughing stock; he glanced slily around to see if any + one had noticed. Frank was watching from the opposite side of the room, + but Jake did not see him. He grasped the fork firmly in his great fist and + speared the pickle as if he had been harpooning a fish. The pickle + resented such violence. It shot out of the dish and half way across the + room with old Jake, the fork still clenched firmly, gazing stupidly after + it. + </p> + <p> + “April Fool, Jake!” called one of the men who saw the joke. + Some one picked up the pickle and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_353"></a>353</span>passed it from hand to hand. After that, + people avoided the wooden pickles, but several took liberal bites of + brine-steeped ones. + </p> + <p> + The fun was well under way by this time. So many people had been + victimized that many refused the dainties they coveted, for fear of being + deceived, only to find their next neighbor enjoying them. The guests began + to try to catch each other, and the young men would get Marian to point + out the traps. But, so far, Frank had escaped, though Sherm and Chicken + Little had been plotting all day. They took Captain Clarke into their + confidence, but even he failed, until he had the happy thought of getting + Wing to help. Wing had been working busily in the kitchen assisting Annie. + </p> + <p> + Frank had steadily refused cotton wool doughnuts and sanded pie and every + doubtful delicacy, but he was extremely fond of cup custard. When Wing + approached him, urging that he be served now, Frank hesitated a moment, + then said: “Just bring me a custard, Wing. And Wing, don’t let + anybody meddle with it.” + </p> + <p> + Wing came grinning to the conspirators. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear,” said Chicken Little, “I think the custards + are all right.” + </p> + <p> + Marian overheard. “Trust me, Chicken Little, I have one very special + one for Frank–I didn’t intend to have him crowing.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_354"></a>354</span>Wing bore in + a most tempting custard. Frank inspected it carefully to make sure it had + not been tampered with. In so doing he attracted the attention of those + round him. He took a generous spoonful and made a hasty dive for the + kitchen amid lively applause from the whole room. + </p> + <p> + “What was in it?” The Captain was still shaking. + </p> + <p> + “Mustard–Marian made it bad enough so he couldn’t hide + it!” Chicken Little was dancing up and down in glee. + </p> + <p> + “Wing, you rascal, I’d like to choke you.” Frank was + still sputtering. + </p> + <p> + Wing assumed a mournful expression. “Me velly sorry–nobody + touch, samee you say.” + </p> + <p> + It was the second of April before the last rattle of wheels died away down + the lane. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mother, I think it paid for the trouble,” said Dr. + Morton, as they were starting homeward, his arms laden with chairs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess, perhaps, I have been inclined to stand too much + aloof. That little Mrs. Anderson is really a cultured woman. She comes + from Maine. I asked her to come and spend the day Tuesday.” + </p> + <p> + Marian’s comment was brief. + </p> + <p> + “Frank, I am dead, but I’m glad we did it.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I–put out the light.” Frank was already half + asleep. + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_19"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_355"></a>355</span> + <img src="images/p0355.jpg" id="img040" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + SHERM HEARS BAD NEWS + </h2> + <p> + “Sherm, don’t you just love this room?” Chicken Little + gazed about Captain Clarke’s big library with a real affection. + “I don’t know why it is, but this room makes me feel the same + way a sunset, or the prairie when it’s all in bloom, does. I can’t + just tell you, but it makes me so satisfied with everything ... as if the + world was so beautiful it couldn’t possibly be very bad.” + </p> + <p> + “I know–it’s the harmony, like in music. The colors all + seem to go together ... everything seems to belong. I like that, too, but + it doesn’t mean just that, to me. I see the Captain every time I + step in here. It’s a part of him–almost as if he had worked + his own bigness and the kind of things he loves, into furniture and books + and–fixings.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there’s so much room to breathe here–I <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_356"></a>356</span>s’pose being + at sea so much, he had to have that. And he picked up most of these things + on his voyages–he must have wanted them pretty bad or he wouldn’t + have carried them half around the world with him.” + </p> + <p> + The young people had come over to the Captain’s for supper. School + had closed the day before, and Chicken Little was the proud possessor of + an elaborate autograph album, won as a spelling prize. Captain Clarke had + attended the closing exercises at her request. He had invited them over to + celebrate, this evening. He declared he had never learned to spell himself + and he wanted the honor of entertaining some one who knew how. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had brought the album along for the Captain’s + signature. “And write something, too, won’t you? Something + specially for me,” she had begged winningly. + </p> + <p> + “Have they all written something–specially for you, Chicken + Little? I should like to read them.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t asked very many people yet, just Mr. Clay and Grant + Stowe and Mamie Jenkins’ little sister–Mamie’s in town + you know. I asked Sherm, but he hasn’t thought up anything.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain glanced at Sherm and smiled whimsically. “Now, if I were + as young as Sherm, I shouldn’t have to think up things–the + trouble would be to restrain my eloquence.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_357"></a>357</span>Sherm grinned + and looked uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + The Captain was merciful; he changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t the middle of May a little early to close school?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is the usual time. You see the older children have to help + at home as soon as the weather gets warm.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. What are you going to do this summer?” + </p> + <p> + “Wish Ernest was home,” Jane answered pertly, but there was a + wistful look in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Before the Captain could reply, Wing came to the door to announce a man to + see him. The Captain was gone some time. When he returned, he explained + that it was a buyer from Kansas City after his corn, and he should have to + leave them to entertain themselves for a while. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you what you can do,” he paused in the + doorway as the idea occurred to him. “You two may rummage in the + drawers of the cabinet. Take out anything you like the looks of. I think + you will find a lot of interesting stuff there. Make yourselves at home.” + </p> + <p> + They lingered, discussing the room for several minutes after his + departure, then Jane went over to the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “Come on–there are heaps of wonderful things <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_358"></a>358</span>here. He showed me + some of them the day I ran off and came to see him on my own hook. That’s + a year ago! My, I feel as if it were a dozen–it seems as if I were + just a little girl then.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” Sherm adored to set Jane off. + </p> + <p> + “None of your sarcasm, Mr. Dart.” Then soberly: “Truly, + Sherm, I know I’m a lot older. Things seem so different to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are, too, Lady Jane. I was only teasing you.” + </p> + <p> + They had a beautiful half hour among the Captain’s treasures. Sherm + gloated especially over the prints–their wonderful composition and + soft color. + </p> + <p> + “Say, the Japs know a thing or two, don’t they? That wouldn’t + be my idea of what to put into a picture, but it’s awfully + satisfying.” He held the print off and closed one eye to see the + outlines more vividly. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, you surely were intended for an artist.” Chicken + Little had gone on to the drawer below. “Oh, Sherm, I believe this + is the drawer the Captain didn’t show me before. Do you suppose he + wants us to go through it?” + </p> + <p> + “He said all of them. What’s in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sashes and scarfs and things. I thought maybe they used to + belong to his wife.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm lifted a Roman scarf of crimson and yellow and rich blue, and + examined it admiringly. “It <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_359"></a>359</span>doesn’t look as if this had ever been + worn. I guess he wouldn’t have told us to go ahead if there had been + anything here he didn’t want us to find. Say, Chicken Little, this + would look dandy on you. Here, I’m going to fix you up for Captain + Clarke to see.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm shook out the glowing silken folds and proceeded to wreathe the + scarf around Chicken Little’s head, turban fashion. Her brown eyes + glowed and the color in her cheeks grew deeper, as she met the admiration + in Sherm’s eyes. He was staring at her, enchanted at the result of + his efforts. Jane moved restlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Hold still there, can’t you? I want to try it another way. + Didn’t I see one of those sleeveless jacket affairs in there?” + </p> + <p> + Jane rummaged and brought to light a crimson silk Turkish jacket + embroidered in gold thread. She noticed that it, too, seemed perfectly + fresh. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, I do wonder how Captain Clarke happened to buy all these + woman’s things. Do you suppose he bought them for his wife and she + was dead when he got home with them?” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder. Perhaps we oughtn’t to be handling them. See all + those queer beads, and there’s a bracelet! Isn’t it a beauty? + See, it is like silver lace. I guess those blue stones must be turquoises.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it dainty? That must be the filigree work we read + about.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_360"></a>360</span>Sherm was + staring thoughtfully at the contents of the drawer. “One thing sure,” + he muttered, “he must have thought a heap of her.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little had continued exploring. “Here’s a photograph + and two locks of hair in a little frame. Oh, Sherm, it’s her! Yes, + it must be, this is the same baby. I wonder why he doesn’t have this + on his bureau, too.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm took the picture and stared at it so long that Jane grew impatient. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Sherm? What’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm started, passing his hand over his forehead and eyes as if he were + dazed. + </p> + <p> + “Funny, the face seems sort of familiar. I had such a queer feeling + about it for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “I know why it looks familiar–there’s a tiny bit of + resemblance to you–not as much as in the pictures of the baby. I + suppose the baby got it from the mother. Still, I think it looks like + Captain Clarke, too, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s put these things back, Chicken Little. Poor little + lady, I wonder what happened to her.” Sherm laid the picture gently + back in the bottom of the drawer and helped Jane fold and lay away the + other things. They had both forgotten the Roman sash which still adorned + her dark hair. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke, coming in soon after, started when he saw her and glanced + at the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_361"></a>361</span>“Dressing + up, Chicken Little? That gew gaw was evidently intended by Providence for + you. Won’t you accept it as a present to keep that autograph album + company?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little put her hand to her head in dismay. Captain Clarke must + have thought she wanted it. She stammered awkwardly: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Clarke–I–couldn’t take it. I oughtn’t + to have put it on.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm calmly took the matter out of her hands. + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t put it on, Captain Clarke. I’m the guilty + party. I thought it would be so becoming to Chicken Little–her dark + hair and eyes–you know. I didn’t realize till we came across + the picture that it belonged to your wife–and–you might not + like to have us handle it.” + </p> + <p> + “It was never Mrs. Clarke’s,” the Captain said evenly. + “I bought it for her, but she”–he hesitated an instant–“she–died + before my return. I told you to rummage the drawers, and that scarf is + entirely too becoming to Chicken Little’s bright eyes to be wasted + in a drawer any longer. You will be doing me a favor, my dear. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to have an eye for color, Sherm. Juanita loved color, too, + that is why I picked up so many gay things for her.” Captain Clarke + seemed to have formed a sudden resolution. He plunged his hand down among + the rustling silks and brought up <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a + id="page_362"></a>362</span>the picture. His hand trembled a little as he + handed it to Chicken Little. “I have never shown you her picture + before. She had eyes something like yours.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little took the picture and tried to look as if nothing had + happened. She described the scene to Marian afterwards. “O Marian, I + felt as if I were standing in a story book. The Captain’s face was + as white, but he went on talking just as if I knew all about his wife, and–I + do wonder! I felt so sorry for him. Sherm said he wanted to kick himself + for being so thoughtless.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry about it, Jane, and don’t be trying to make + a mystery out of what was merely a big sorrow. It must have been an awful + blow to him to come home and find wife and baby both dead, but it happened + years ago. I expect it did him good to talk to you and Sherm about it.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little forgot about it after a few days, except when she went to + the box where she kept the scarf. She always thought of the picture of the + young mother and baby whenever she saw it. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe I ever can wear it,” she told Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you will, some of these days; the Captain would be hurt if + you didn’t.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + Sherm hadn’t heard from his mother for over a week when a neighbor + came one evening and handed <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_363"></a>363</span>Dr. + Morton a yellow envelope. “No bad news, I hope,” he said. + </p> + <p> + It was addressed to Dr. Morton and read: “My husband died this + morning. Break news to Sherm–he must await letter.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm, too, was older than he had been a year before. He was coming up the + lane whistling, swinging his supple young body along at a good pace, as if + he enjoyed being alive. Dr. Morton watched him, dreading to have to tell + him the bad news and wondering how he would take it. “It’s a + pity,” he thought, “Sherm’s a fine manly fellow and + ought to have his education and a chance at life, and I am afraid this + means more than losing his father.” + </p> + <p> + He waited until the boy came up to him. He was still holding the telegram + in his hand, but Sherm did not notice it until he spoke. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton’s voice was very kind. “My boy, I am–afraid—” + He got no farther. Sherm saw the telegram and understood. “Father?” + he questioned. Dr. Morton nodded. + </p> + <p> + Sherm stood motionless, as if he were trying to realize that the blow he + had so long dreaded, had fallen. Presently he looked up at the Doctor. + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t any train before to-morrow, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Sherm, and I don’t think your mother expects–here, + read the message.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_364"></a>364</span>Sherm’s + hand shook. He read the meager words through twice, then crushed the paper + in his fist. + </p> + <p> + “I am going home to-morrow,” he said doggedly. “I’ve + got enough saved up for the railroad fare. He was my father–I haven’t + seen him for a year. They might have told me! I am not a child any longer!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton laid his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t, Sherm–don’t + add bitterness to grief. Your mother may not have known in time. Death + often comes suddenly at the last in such cases. And, my boy, I would think + twice before setting out rashly. Your mother asks you to wait for her + letter–she must have some good reason. The message was sent this + morning. There will probably be a letter to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care whether there’s a letter or not, I’m + going.” There was a hard look on the boy’s face. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little came running up, with Jilly panting alongside. “My, + we had a good race, didn’t we, Jilly Dilly? Why–what’s—” + She stopped short at sight of their grave faces. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton told her. + </p> + <p> + She stood a moment awestruck; Chicken Little had never had death come so + near her before. Then she turned to Sherm, her face so full of tender pity + that his face softened a trifle. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry about me, Chicken Little,” he said <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_365"></a>365</span>gruffly, “I + am all right. If you’ll help me knock my things together after a + while, I’ll be grateful. I guess I’ll take a–walk–now.” + His voice broke a little at the last. + </p> + <p> + He did not wait for an answer, but walked hurriedly away. Jane gazed after + him, undecided whether to follow or not. Dr. Morton divined her thought. + “I wouldn’t, dear. Let him have it out alone first–you + can comfort him later on. I want you to help me persuade him not to rush + off before he receives his mother’s letter. I must say I don’t + blame Sherm for resenting his mother’s attitude. I think she is + making a big mistake.” + </p> + <p> + Dusk came and the darkness closed round while Chicken Little strained her + eyes in vain for Sherm. It was almost ten before he came back. She was + standing at the gate watching for him. The rest of the family had gone to + bed. “Chicken Little can comfort him better than any of us,” + Dr. Morton had told his wife. “He will be glad not to have to face + any of the rest of the family to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “You shouldn’t have stayed up, Chicken Little,” Sherm + called, as soon as he caught sight of her. “I forgot I asked you to + help me–I’d have come home sooner if I’d remembered. The + duds can wait till morning–I can get up early.” He spoke + quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you ought to go, Sherm?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm’s eyes smouldered. Jane could not see him <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_366"></a>366</span>very distinctly, + but she could fairly feel his determination. + </p> + <p> + “It’s no use talking, I’m going!” + </p> + <p> + They went up the walk in silence. The lilacs and the white syringia in the + borders were in bloom. She hoped Sherm did not notice the heavy fragrance–it + was so like a funeral. He did not say anything till they got to the foot + of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Jane, for–for waiting.” His voice broke + pitifully. + </p> + <p> + When Dr. Morton discovered the next morning that Sherm was not to be moved + from his purpose, he decided to go into town early and see if by any + chance there might be another telegram or a letter. Letters from the east + sometimes came down by a branch line from the north. There was nothing, + and he finally resolved to telegraph Mrs. Dart as to Sherm’s state + of mind. Sherm was to come later in the day with Frank in time to catch + the evening train, which was the only one that made close connections at + Kansas City. It was late afternoon before he received a reply. The message + was emphatic. “Sherm <i>must</i> await letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dart evidently knows her own mind,” thought the Doctor. + He drove a little way out of town and waited for Frank and Sherm. Chicken + Little was with them. He gave the boy this second message, explaining what + he had done. Sherm read <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_367"></a>367</span>it + over and over, as if he hoped in some way to find a reason for his mother’s + decision lurking between the lines. + </p> + <p> + At length he said stolidly: “I’ll wait till to-morrow. Perhaps + the letter will come to-night.” + </p> + <p> + They talked it over and Sherm and Chicken Little went on to town with the + light buggy to wait for the mail, while Dr. Morton and Frank drove home. + </p> + <p> + There was a handful of letters in the box. Sherm took them out hastily. + </p> + <p> + “I guess this is it,” he said, stuffing one into his pocket. + “And here’s three for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Three? Whoever from?” Jane held out her hand. “Ernest + and Katy–and here’s another with an Annapolis postmark. Who do + you suppose?” + </p> + <p> + Sherm glanced over her shoulder. “That’s Carol Brown’s + handwriting.” + </p> + <p> + “Carol?–writing to me? How funny!” + </p> + <p> + They hurried out to the team. + </p> + <p> + “Let me drive while you read your letter, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm shook his head. “Read yours first–this will keep.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea–I wouldn’t be so piggy selfish.” + </p> + <p> + “Please, Jane, I’d rather get out of town before I tackle it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, I wish I could—” She didn’t need to + finish. Sherm understood. + </p> + <p> + “Read Carol’s first,” he said. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_368"></a>368</span>She read it + with a beaming face. Sherm was looking at her without seeing her. She + started to tell him the contents of the letter, then suddenly stopped. She + couldn’t rejoice over being asked to a hop when Sherm was in such + trouble. Laying the letter in her lap, she took up Ernest’s. Sherm + noticed the movement and, remembering, asked her what Carol had to say. + </p> + <p> + She handed him the letter. He read it through absently. The houses were + thinning along the road. The prairie stretched ahead of them in solitary + sweeps of tender green, dappled with flowers. Jane reached for the reins. + </p> + <p> + “Read your letter, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed in silence. Chicken Little kept her eyes on the road ahead. A + sharp exclamation from Sherm startled her: + </p> + <p> + “God, it can’t be true!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm swearing? She looked at him in amazement. The boy was not swearing; + he had cried out in utter agony. He dropped the letter on the floor of the + buggy and buried his face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, Sherm, what is it?” Chicken Little was frightened. + </p> + <p> + He did not answer. He did not seem to have noticed that she had spoken. + She reached over and touched him. “Sherm! Sherm!” He shook off + her hand impatiently. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_369"></a>369</span>Chicken + Little hesitated a moment, then flicked the horses into a swift trot. She + must get him home. Perhaps he was going to be ill. The boy did not move or + look up for miles. When the horses splashed through the ford at Elm Creek, + he roused himself and looked dully at Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, please tell me. It will make it easier for you to tell + somebody, and I’m worried to death.” + </p> + <p> + He stooped and picked up the letter. Smoothing it out, he thrust it into + her hand. “Read it.” He took the reins. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little ran over the letter hurriedly. It bore a date some days + previous. + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + “<span style="font-variant:small-caps">My Dear Boy:</span> + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Jones has just told me it can be only a question of days now. I + have been studying whether to send for you or not. Father settled the + question for me. He said he wanted sorrowfully to see you, but in view of + the things that must be told you, it would be too painful an ordeal for + all of us. He said to tell you you were very precious to him–as + precious as if you had really been his own son.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + Chicken Little gave a little cry. “Sherm, what does she mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Read it all.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + “For, Sherm, you are not our own. If Father could have lived, we + never intended you to know <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_370"></a>370</span>this–at + least not until you were a man and had made a place for yourself. But + Father’s illness is leaving us penniless. Sue’s husband has + offered Grace and myself a home with them, but he thinks you must be told + the truth–that it is only fair to you. We took you when you were + about two and a half years old under very peculiar circumstances. It was + while we were still living in New York, and Sue was a tot of five. We were + going up to my father’s in Albany and were a little late. Father + told the hackman to drive fast; he’d give him an extra dollar if he’d + catch the train. The man had been drinking and drove recklessly. He was + just dashing round the corner to the station–the train was already + whistling–when he knocked down, and ran over, a woman with a child + in her arms. The child was pitched to one side and escaped with a few + bruises. The woman never regained consciousness. You have probably guessed + that you were that child. We could never find out who she was, though we + advertised for several weeks. We decided to bring you up with Sue, and + when we moved to Centerville, soon after, no one knew you were not our own + child. We had you baptized Sherman after the great general who had just + won his way to notice then. I have saved the clothing you wore, and a + brooch and wedding ring of your mother’s. I will send them to you, + together with a hundred dollars, which is all I can <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_371"></a>371</span> give you to start + you on your way.” The remainder of the letter was filled with her + grief over parting with her husband, and her separation from Sherm + himself. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little swallowed hard–something seemed to be gripping her by + the throat. + </p> + <p> + “And your father isn’t your father, Sherm?–or your + mother or Sue or Grace?” The tragic extent of what had happened was + dawning slowly upon Jane. + </p> + <p> + Sherm’s lips trembled. + </p> + <p> + “No, I–haven’t any father–I’ve never had a + father!... I haven’t got anybody.... I haven’t even got a name + that belongs to me!” Sherm’s voice grew shriller and shriller + till it broke with a dry sob. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little slipped her hand into his and the boy clung to it + spasmodically, as if that slim, brown hand were all he had in the world to + cling to. The tears were raining down Jane’s cheeks, but Sherm’s + eyes were dry and burning. The team trotted along evenly. They turned + mechanically into the stable yard when they reached the ranch. It was + growing dusk. + </p> + <p> + Sherm helped her out, saying: “Will you please tell them, Chicken + Little? I won’t come in just yet.” + </p> + <p> + She ran to the house and poured out her tale. Her <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_372"></a>372</span>father hurried to + the stable. Sherm was not there. Jim Bart, who was milking in the corral + near by, said he had saddled Caliph and gone off down the lane. Dr. Morton + talked it over with Frank and they decided that Sherm had done the wisest + thing possible in going for a gallop. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t mean to do anything rash or he wouldn’t have + taken Ernest’s horse,” Frank declared. + </p> + <p> + But as hour after hour went by, the family grew more and more anxious. At + eleven o’clock, Frank saddled Calico and tried to find him. He + returned some time later in despair. + </p> + <p> + “You might as well try to look for a needle in a haystack. Poor lad, + I have faith he will ride the worst of it off and Caliph is a pretty + steady little beast now. He’ll bring him home.” + </p> + <p> + A few moments after his return, a messenger came from Captain Clarke, + saying that he had been wakened by Caliph neighing at the gate and had + gone out to find Sherm dazed and apparently completely exhausted. He had + got him to bed where he was sleeping heavily. Captain Clarke was afraid + they must be worried. He would care for him till morning, but he would be + glad to have some inkling of what had happened so that he might know what + to say to the boy when he waked. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton got out his medicine case and went back with the man. + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <a id="link_20"></a> <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_373"></a>373</span> + <img src="images/p0373.jpg" id="img041" alt="" /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CAPTAIN FINDS HIS OWN + </h2> + <p> + Chicken Little climbed the hill of sleep painfully that night, and slept + late the following morning in consequence. While she was eating breakfast, + Frank came in with two tear-stained, dusty letters, which he had found in + the bottom of the buggy. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the way you treat your correspondence, Sis?” + </p> + <p> + “The idea–it’s Ernest’s and Katy’s letters + and I never read them. Sherm’s trouble drove them clear out of my + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Evidently, one is torn part way open, and the other hasn’t + been touched.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurry up and tell us what Ernest has to say. I was wondering why he + hadn’t written.” Mrs. Morton paused expectantly. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_374"></a>374</span>“He + says a lot of things,” replied Jane, skimming rapidly through the + letter. “He says they are going to start on their summer cruise next + week and the boys are tickled to death to go, though they’re + probably just going to cruise around to Navy yards and see dry docks and + improving things. He says that it’s rumored that Superintendent + Balch is going away and Old Rodgers is coming back as superintendent. And + this year’s class graduated three Japs–the Japanese government + sent them over. He gives the names, but I can’t pronounce them. One + is I-n-o-u-y-e.” + </p> + <p> + “Skip the Japs and give us the rest.” Frank was waiting to + hear the news. + </p> + <p> + “That’s about all that would interest you.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, anything concerning Ernest interests me,” protested + her mother. + </p> + <p> + “But it isn’t about Ernest; it’s about Carol Brown.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing much–he just took a fancy to my picture and asked + Ernest a lot of questions.” Chicken Little folded the letter and + hastily slipped it back into the envelope, devoutly hoping her mother + wouldn’t demand to see it. She tore open Katy’s. Before she + had read two lines she gave a little cry of delight. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mother, do you think I could? Oh, wouldn’t <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_375"></a>375</span>it be just too + wonderful? Oh Mother, you must say Yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Jane, what are you talking about? Calm yourself and tell me.” + Mrs. Morton looked up over her spectacles severely. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she says her mother wants me to come and live with them next + year and go to the High School and that Alice and Dick want me to come + there. And, perhaps, I could stay part of the time at one house and part + at the other, and for me to tell you and let you be thinking about it, and + Alice and Mrs. Halford are both going to write you all about it, and–oh, + Mother, wouldn’t it be too wonderful?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton looked both surprised and worried. “It is certainly most + kind of them all, but I shall have to think the matter over.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Frank, “that doesn’t have to be + settled to-day. Jane, Marian wishes to know if you want to go over to the + Captain’s with her to see Sherm. She is going to start in a few + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little jumped to her feet. “I’ll be ready in a jiffy!” + </p> + <p> + Sherm had still not wakened when they arrived. He had roused once toward + morning; Captain Clarke had spoken to him, telling him where he was, then + he had dropped quietly off to sleep again. + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke asked Chicken Little a good many questions. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_376"></a>376</span>“I + should like to see that letter,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It’s in his coat pocket. I tucked it in–I was afraid he’d + lose it.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morton, who was still there, sat for several minutes in a brown study. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said presently, “that under the + circumstances we should be justified in reading it without waiting for + Sherm’s permission.” He looked at Captain Clarke. + </p> + <p> + The latter nodded assent. + </p> + <p> + Both read it and discussed it briefly. Still Sherm did not waken. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I’ll drive over to Jake Schmidt’s while I am + waiting–I have an errand with him. Marian, don’t you want to + ride over with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Clarke,” said Jane rather timidly after they had + gone, “would you mind showing me that picture of your baby again?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Clarke rose and brought the photograph. Chicken Little studied it + carefully, then glanced up at the Captain. Sherm certainly was like the + picture–as much like it as a boy who was almost a man grown could + be. Should she dare to ask him? Chicken Little felt herself growing hot + and cold by turns. Her heart was beating so she thought the Captain must + surely hear it. One minute she was sure she didn’t dare, the next, + she remembered Sherm’s broken-hearted words about not belonging + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_377"></a>377</span>to anybody, + and she was sure she could screw her courage up–in just a minute. + Captain Clarke helped her out. He had been observing her restless + movements for several minutes and was wondering if she could possibly have + guessed what was in his own mind. + </p> + <p> + “Out with it, little woman, what’s troubling you?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little got up from her seat and went and stood close beside him. + “I want to say something to you awfully, only I am afraid you–won’t + like it,” she said earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, don’t be afraid of me.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little summoned up her resolution. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to ask–to ask you, if you wouldn’t adopt + Sherm. You see he looks like your little boy would have looked, and he + hasn’t got anybody or any name, and he isn’t going to want to + live hardly, I am afraid. And I thought.... You don’t know how fine + Sherm is. He’s so honorable and kind–so–so you can trust + him. I just know you’d be proud of him after a while.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was pleading with eyes and voice and trembling hands. The + Captain gazed at her a moment in astonishment, then he tenderly drew her + toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Chicken Little, I doubt if Sherm would agree to that. But if he is + willing, I should be proud and happy to call him my son. But don’t + get your hopes <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_378"></a>378</span>up–I + fear Sherm is too proud to let us find any such easy solution of his + troubles. But we’ll find a way to put him on his feet, you and I–we’ll + find a way, if it takes every cent I have! + </p> + <p> + “I think perhaps the first thing to do, Chicken Little,” he + continued after some pondering, “is to try to find out something + about Sherman’s real parentage. It hardly seems possible that a + comfortably dressed woman could have disappeared with her child without + making some stir. I am in hopes, by getting somebody to search through the + files of two or three of the leading New York newspapers immediately + following the day of the accident, we might secure a clue. I shall write + to Mrs. Dart at once for particulars, and then send to a man I know and + pay him to make a thorough investigation.” + </p> + <p> + They were so interested discussing what could be done, that Sherm entered + the room before they knew he was awake. The boy was calm, but looked years + older, and very white and worn. Captain Clarke greeted him cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you rested. Jane tells me you had a staggering day + yesterday. Chicken Little, would you mind telling Wing to serve Sherm’s + breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + As soon as she disappeared, he gripped the boy’s hand, saying + confidently, “I don’t wish to talk about your trouble just now + and I have no words to comfort you for your loss, lad, but I want to tell + you not <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_379"></a>379</span>to + begin to worry yet about your identity. I believe we shall find a way to + get track of your people and that you will find you have an honorable + name, and, possibly, a living father to make up a little for the kind + foster-father you have lost.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how we could–after all these years.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you leave the matter to me for a few days? And Sherm, make an + effort to eat something for Chicken Little’s sake–she is + worrying her heart out over your trouble. You have some good friends right + here–don’t forget that. Dr. Morton watched by you all night. + Brace up and be a man. I know you have it in you, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + Letters came to Sherm in a short time from Sue Dart, from Dick and Alice + Harding, and from Mrs. Halford, who painstakingly wrote him all the + details of his supposed father’s last days. She evidently knew + nothing of his not being the Dart’s own son. Sue’s letter + seemed to comfort him a little. He did not show it to anyone, even to + Chicken Little. He confided to her, however, that the folks were sending + his things to him the next day. They had already broken up the home and + were going back to Chicago with Sue the following week. + </p> + <p> + When the express package arrived, Sherm took it straight to Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You open it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little took his knife and cut the string and <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_380"></a>380</span>folded back the + paper wrappings carefully. It seemed some way as if she were meeting Sherm’s + mother. + </p> + <p> + The quaint little old-fashioned garments were musty and faded. A frock of + blue merino braided in an elaborate pattern in black lay on top. There was + a cape to match, and a little cloth cap. Beside these lay a funny pair of + leather boots with red tops–almost like a man’s–only, + oh, so tiny! + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little hardly knew whether to laugh or cry at these. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sherm, did you ever wear them? How you must have strutted! I + can fairly see you.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm smiled and took them up tenderly. Did he, too, feel as if there were + another presence haunting these relics of his childhood? + </p> + <p> + The tiny yellowed undergarments came next, all made by hand with minute + even stitches. A pair of blue and white striped knitted stockings was + folded with these, and last, at the bottom, a little pasteboard box + appeared, containing a ring, a brooch, and a flat oval locket on a fine + gold chain. + </p> + <p> + Sherm examined the ring first. Inside was inscribed William-Juanita. May + 1860. + </p> + <p> + The brooch contained a lock of dark hair under a glass; the whole set in a + twisted rim of gold. The locket held miniatures of a white-haired man and + woman with foreign-looking faces. Both Sherm and <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_381"></a>381</span>Chicken Little + looked these over in silence. Presently Sherm sighed, then laid the + trinkets all back in Chicken Little’s lap. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see anything there that could help much,” he + said hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little slowly folded up the little garments and laid them neatly + back in their wrapping. Her brow was puckered into a frown. + </p> + <p> + “I am trying to think where I have heard that name Juanita–some + place lately. I don’t remember ever to have known anybody by that + name. It’s Spanish, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess so, but what you’re thinking of is the song, ‘Juanita.’” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I expect it is. Sherm, do you mind if I take these things over + and show them to Captain Clarke? He said he would like to see them when + they came.” + </p> + <p> + “No, take them along. If you’ll wait till I get the feeding + done, I’ll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, let’s take Calico and Caliph.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm lingered out on the veranda while Chicken Little displayed the + contents of the package to the Captain. He examined each little article of + clothing for some identifying mark. + </p> + <p> + “There doesn’t seem to be anything to help on those,” he + said, disappointed. “Let’s have a look at the jewelry.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little unwrapped the ring from its layers <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_382"></a>382</span>of tissue paper, + and handed it to him. Captain Clarke took it, regarded the flat golden + circle intently for an instant, then turned it to read the inscription. + </p> + <p> + A pained cry broke from his lips. Chicken Little glanced hastily up to + find him holding the ring in shaking fingers, staring off into vacancy. + “Juanita!” he whispered, “Juanita!” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little touched his hands in distress. + </p> + <p> + “Captain–Captain Clarke, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + He looked down at her with a start. “I–it is—Excuse me a + moment, Chicken Little.” + </p> + <p> + He walked into his bedroom with the ring still in his hand and closed the + door. + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little waited and waited, not knowing whether she ought to go and + tell Sherm what she suspected. It seemed too strange to be possible. And + if it were true, surely Captain Clarke would want to tell him himself. + Perhaps she oughtn’t to be there. She rose softly and slipped out to + Wing in the kitchen. After a time she heard Sherm get up from his seat on + the veranda step and go into the library. Immediately after, the bedroom + door opened and she heard the murmur of voices. She left a message with + Wing and running quietly out to Calico, untied him, and rode home in the + twilight. + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + “You needn’t ever say again, Ernest Morton,” <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_383"></a>383</span>she wrote to her + brother the next evening, “that E. P. Roe’s stories are too + goody-goody and fishy to be interesting. He can’t hold a candle to + what’s happened to the Captain and Sherm. I have to go round + pinching myself to believe it is really so. I am almost afraid I will wake + up and find it isn’t, still. Do you remember the picture of the + Captain’s little boy that looked like Sherm? Well, it was Sherm. I + can hear you say: ‘What in the dickens?’ So, I’ll put + you out of suspense right away. The Captain’s boy was not dead, only + lost, and he is Sherm or Sherm is he, whichever way is right–I’m + sure I don’t know. You see the Captain went off on a long voyage and + got shipwrecked and was gone ages and ages. And Juanita’s father and + mother were way off in California–they used to be Spanish. That’s + what made them so foreign-looking in the locket picture. Well, nobody + knows exactly what happened. When the Captain got back to New York and + hunted up the boarding house where she had lived, they said she had left + six months before to go to her parents in California. Captain Clarke wrote + to California and found that her father was dead and her mother hadn’t + heard from Juanita for months, and didn’t know anything about her + coming home. Wasn’t it dreadful? He paid detectives to hunt her up, + but they never found the slightest clue. The Captain thought she’d + gone off and left him on purpose–that’s <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_384"></a>384</span> what made him such + a woman-hater–and so sad all the time. You wouldn’t know him + now. He looks like Merry Christmas all the year round. You should see him + gaze at Sherm. Marian says it makes her want to cry, and Mother says it is + the most wonderful manifestation of Providence she has ever known. It + seems to me Providence would show more sense not to muddle things up so in + the first place. Sherm is as pleased as can be to find he really is + somebody, and he’s awfully fond of the Captain, but you see he’d + got so used to loving the Darts as his own folks that he can’t get + unused to it all of a sudden. He choked all up when he tried to call + Captain Clarke ‘Father,’ and the Captain told him not to. + There’s heaps more to tell, but Mother has been calling me for the + past three minutes.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + “No wonder Sherm feels dazed,” said Dr. Morton two evenings + later, watching the boy, who was making a vain pretense of playing + checkers with Chicken Little. + </p> + <p> + He was so heedless that she swept his men off the board at each move, to + Chicken Little’s disgust. Sherm usually beat her when he gave his + mind to the game. Presently, she picked up the board and dumped the + checkers off into her lap. + </p> + <p> + “A penny for your thoughts, Sherm.” + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_385"></a>385</span>“I was + just wondering if Captain–Father–would find out anything more + in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “How long will he be gone?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess that depends on whether he gets track of anything new. + After he comes back we’re going to Chicago to see–Mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so glad. It will make you feel a lot better to have a good + visit with them all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and he told me I might buy back the old home for her if she + wants it–if I’d only known last week, she needn’t have + sold the place. And the Captain–Father–says he will give me + some money to put out at interest so she’ll have enough to live on + comfortably. He says he owes her and Father a debt he can never repay for + bringing me up.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little was thoughtful. “Sherm, he seems to have plenty of + money, maybe you can go to college and to the Beaux Arts, too.” + </p> + <p> + “He said I could have all the education I wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you go to college next year?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep.” + </p> + <p> + “O dear, it will be awful here unless Mother lets me go to + Centerville.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t fret, she is going to.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “She told Marian so last night.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little got to her feet and shot two feet <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_386"></a>386</span>into the air with a + whoop of joy. “Goody! Goody!! Goody!!!” + </p> + <p> + “Save a little breath, Jane. I know something better than that. + Promise you won’t tell–your mother would skin me if she knew I + were giving away her cherished plans.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be afraid, she just wants me to act surprised, and I + can do it a lot better if I know about it before hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she’s coming on at Christmas time for a visit in + Centerville, and she’s going to take you on to visit Ernest.” + </p> + <p> + “Sherm, truly?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what she said.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little gave an ecstatic hop. “Sherm,” she exclaimed + presently, a new idea striking her, “I can go to that hop with + Carol!” + </p> + <p> + “Carol?” Sherm sat up a little straighter. “What do you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you remember that letter I got from Carol? You don’t + remember a single thing about it, do you? He wrote to ask me if I wouldn’t + come on some time and go to a Navy hop with him. He said he was asking me + in time so I couldn’t promise anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me Carol is getting mighty fresh.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little stole a surprised glance at Sherm. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see anything fresh about that–I think it <span + class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_387"></a>387</span>nice of him to + remember me so long. My, I used to think Carol was the most wonderful + thing. I hung a May basket to him the last spring we were in Centerville.” + </p> + <p> + “You did? Why, I thought I got yours. Who hung mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Gertie. I guess she won’t mind if I tell–it’s + been so long.” + </p> + <p> + Sherm whistled. After a little he inquired rather sheepishly: + </p> + <p> + “Say, Chicken Little, you don’t like Carol best now, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little looked up hastily. She was disgusted to feel her face + growing hot. “Why, Sherm–I haven’t seen Carol for four + years. I don’t know what I should think of him now.” Then, + seeing the hurt look in Sherm’s eyes, she added: “I guess I’d + have to like him pretty awfully well, if I did.” + </p> + <hr style="border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; height: 1px; width: 80%; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;" /> + <p> + Captain Clarke was gone two weeks and he had added only two facts to those + they had been able to piece together. He had accidentally run across an + old friend. This friend had supposed him dead all these years, and could + scarcely believe his own eyes when he saw him. From him, he learned that + his wife had also believed him dead before she would consent to leave New + York. This friend told him he had suspected that her money was running low + and <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_388"></a>388</span>had + offered to help her, but she refused. He thought, after hearing the + Captain’s story, that she must have had barely enough left to take + her home, and that this explained why she was walking to the wharf instead + of taking a hack, the day she was run down. + </p> + <p> + Sherm stayed on with the Morton’s until the following week when he + set out with his new-found father to visit his adopted family. Youth + recovers readily from its sorrows. It was almost the old Sherm who raised + his cap to Chicken Little as the train got under steam and slid away from + the long wooden platform. + </p> + <p> + “O dear!” she exclaimed, “seems to me I haven’t + done anything this whole year but see somebody off. I think it ought to be + my turn pretty soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a little patience, Humbug,” said her father, “your + turn is almost here. It is hard for me to realize how fast my baby is + growing up.” + </p> + <p> + Chicken Little liked the sound of those words–“growing up.” + There was something magical about them. They lingered in her mind for + days. + </p> + <p> + One hot Sunday afternoon late in June, she arrayed herself in an old blue + lawn dress of Marian’s that trailed a full inch on the floor at + every step. She coiled her hair high on her head and tucked in a rose + coquettishly above her ear. Highly gratified with the result of her + efforts, she swept downstairs in a most dignified manner to astonish the + family. <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_389"></a>389</span>Unfortunately + the family–Father and Mother, and both pups, were taking a siesta. + She went over to the cottage; a profound silence reigned there also. She + rambled around restlessly for a few moments, then, taking “Ivanhoe” + and a pocketful of cookies, went out into the orchard. It was hot even + there. The air seemed heavy and the birds contented themselves with lazy + chirpings. She swung herself up into her favorite tree and began to munch + and read. + </p> + <p> + But she did not read long. The charm of the green world around her was + greater than the pictured world of the book. Chicken Little fell to making + pictures of her own–dream pictures that changed quickly into other + dream pictures, as real dreams sometimes do. As she stared down the leafy + arcades between the rows of apple trees, she saw an immense ball room hung + in red, white, and blue bunting and filled with astonishingly handsome + young men in blue uniforms. Ernest was there. And a tall, curly-headed + Adonis, who looked both like, and unlike, the good-natured, plump Carol of + Old Centerville days, was close beside her. But when the supposed Carol + spoke, it was certainly Sherm’s voice she heard, and it was Sherm’s + odd, crooked smile that curved the dream midshipman’s lips. Chicken + Little recognized the absurdity of this herself and laughed happily. A + bird on a bough nearby took this for a challenge, and burst into an + ecstasy of trills. + </p> + <p> + <span class="pagenum pncolor"><a id="page_390"></a>390</span>“Pshaw,” + she whispered to herself, “I wonder what it would really be like.” + She kept on wondering. She felt as if she and the orchard were wrapped + about with a great cloud, like a veil, and that beyond this, all the + wonderful things that must surely happen when she grew up, were hidden. + The twilight was falling before she stretched her cramped limbs and slid + down the rough tree trunk. She picked up her neglected book, which had + fallen to the ground unnoticed, and said aloud, with a little mocking + curtsey: + </p> + <p> + “Your pardon, Sir Walter, but I made a romance of my own that was–nicer.” + </p> + <p> + Then she tucked the slighted author under her arm and flew to the house + before the pursuing shadows. Chicken Little was growing up. + </p> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/p0390.jpg" id="img042" alt="" /> + </div> + <hr class="pb" /> + <div class="adpage"> + <p> + Every grown-up will remember the time when + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + “Chicken Little” + </p> + <p> + was a most wonderful tale with which to open wide the eyes of children. + </p> + <p> + Many a fond mother will be glad to know of another “Chicken Little” + just brought to light in handsome book form under the alluring title + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:larger;font-variant:small-caps"> + Chicken Little Jane + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:smaller;"> + A DELIGHTFUL STORY BY + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + LILY MUNSELL RITCHIE + </p> + <p> + Little folk will at once fall in love with this new “Chicken + Little” of the far western prairies–the same being an + affectionate nick-name given to a dear little girl and always used when + she was very, very good–but when she misbehaved it was “Jane”!–just + Jane! + </p> + <p> + This book is illustrated and decorated with unusually attractive + pictures by Charles D. Hubbard. Cloth, $1.25 + </p> + <hr class="tb" /> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Britton Publishing Company New + York + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <p> + Of all the charming books that may come forth this year, none will be + more welcome than + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.2em;"> + GEORGINA’S<br />SERVICE STARS + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By Annie Fellows Johnston + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + TO BE PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER 1st + </p> + <p> + In it will be found a new story of beloved Georgina whose Rainbow + adventures led into her tenth year. Now she is older–sweet + sixteen, if you please–and Richard, her playmate of childhood + days, is a grown man of seventeen–and as devoted as ever. Of + course he got into the great war enough to give Georgina a second star + to her service flag; her father, being a famous surgeon, his star is + rightfully at the top. But watch out for Richard! (Beautifully + illustrated. $1.50 net.) + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + AS USUAL—FOR ALL THE FAMILY + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.2em;"> + GEORGINA of the RAINBOWS + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Now selling in beautiful popular edition, 60 cts. + </p> + <hr class="tb" /> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Britton Publishing Company New York + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.2em;"> + LITTLE STORIES FROM THE SCREEN + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By WILLIAM ADDISON LATHROP + </p> + <p> + Filling a long-felt want of thousands who desire to know the methods of + the top-notch moving picture writer, this celebrated photo-dramatist has + sanctioned the use of eighteen of his best synopses, and one full + scenario, representing a wide range of successful productions + participated in by world-famous stars familiar to millions. Each + Synopsis is accompanied by one or more actual scenes of the finished + play in which twenty-five screen favorites are pictured in their + strongest acts. + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Cloth Highly Illustrated $1.25 + net + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.4em;"> + UNCLE BILL’S LETTERS TO HIS NIECE + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By RAY BROWN + </p> + <p> + Here’s as gay a little gift as any girl could wish. Bright, + sparkling and joyous–letters from a matter-of-fact old uncle who + talks to his young niece straight from the shoulder, exactly as he might + to a boy. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Bill gives facts about moonlight, becomes violent over athletics, + taboos snobbery, takes a fling at heredity, and touches up a few + complexions. + </p> + <p> + The result is extravagantly and deliciously funny–Just the Book + for an Ingenue. + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Cloth Decorative Cover and Jacket 60 cents net + </p> + <hr class="tb" /> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Britton Publishing Company New York + </p> + <hr class="pb" /> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.4em;"> + Over the Seas for Uncle Sam + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By ELAINE STERNE,<br />Author of “The Road of Ambition” + </p> + <p> + Miss Sterne is Senior Lieutenant of the Navy League Honor Guard, which + has charge of entertainment and visitation in behalf of sick and wounded + sailors sent home for hospital treatment. Their experiences, such as may + be published at this time, now appear in book form. This book brings out + many thrilling adventures that have occurred in the war zone of the high + seas–and has official sanction. Miss Sterne’s descriptive + powers are equaled by few. She has the dramatic touch which compels + interest. Her book, which contains many photographic scenes, will be + warmly welcomed in navy circles, and particularly by those in active + service. + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Cloth Illuminated Jacket $1.50 + Net + </p> + <p class="tp" style="font-size:1.4em;"> + Ambulancing on the French Front + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + By EDWARD P. COYLE + </p> + <p> + Here is a collection of intensely interesting episodes related by a + Young American who served as a volunteer with the French Army–Red + Cross Division. His book is to the field of mercy what those of Empey, + Holmes and Peat have been in describing the vicissitudes of army life. + The author spent ten months in ambulance work on the Verdun firing line. + What he saw and did is recounted with most graphic clearness. This book + contains many illustrations photographed on the spot showing with vivid + exactitude the terrors of rescue work under the fire of the big guns. + </p> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Cloth 16 Full page Illustrations $1.50 + Net + </p> + <hr class="tb" /> + <p class="tp" style=""> + Britton Publishing Company New York + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr class="full" /> + </div> + <p> + ***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHICKEN LITTLE JANE ON THE BIG + JOHN*** + </p> + <p> + ******* This file should be named 30629-h.txt or 30629-h.zip ******* + </p> + <p> + This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/6/2/30629">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/2/30629</a> + </p> + <p> + Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be + renamed. + </p> + <p> + Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one + owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and + you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission + and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the + General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and + distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT + GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered + trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you + receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of + this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook + for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, + performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given + away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. + Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial + redistribution. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> + </body> +</html> |