Part 11 (1/2)
Chicken Little obeyed and Mrs. Morton hastily opened it. About every third page revealed cloud-like fluffs of silk ravellings in all the colors of the rainbow. The entire Geography was so occupied as an alb.u.m for these delectable bits of color that it was difficult to see how it could be used for study purposes.
”Well, I never!” Mrs. Morton regarded all e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns as unladylike, but the occasion seemed to require emphasis.
”Where did you get all these?--and what do you want them for?”
”'Cause all the girls have them. I took some of the pieces left from the millinery store----”
”Yes?”
”And I cut some weenty bits of my hair ribbons and I traded for some of the mixy ones--and the quilt pieces.”
Chicken Little shut her lips tight with an air of finality.
”Go get your hair-ribbons.”
Chicken Little obeyed slowly.
The ribbons were shortened anywhere from one inch to a quarter of a yard. Some looked as if she had taken the ribbon and left the ”weenty”
piece.
Mrs. Morton's face was a study. For a moment she seemed to be struck speechless. It was only a moment.
”Your ribbons are ruined--I never saw such a child! You knew better than that and you shall be punished severely. Go right to your practising now and I'll think this matter over. But--you cannot help the boys with the furnace.”
”But you promised, Mother.”
”I don't care if I did; you've been a very naughty little girl and----”
”But you promised and you'll be telling a wrong story your ownself if you don't let me. And you never told me I couldn't cut pieces off my hair-ribbons--and I asked you for some old ones and you said: 'Run along and don't bother'.” Chicken Little faced her mother flushed and defiant.
Mrs. Morton's face was equally red with exasperation. The child's logic was not easy to gainsay.
”Very well,” she said with asperity, ”you may go after your practicing, as I said, but you will be punished later. You understand--later!”
CHAPTER V
THE BACK-YARD FURNACE
It was in a more chastened frame of mind, that Chicken Little joined the others in the back yard after her practice hour was over. She had spent so much of the hour wondering what her mother was going to do to her, that the hour had really slipped away rather quickly.
The three boys had the brick part of the furnace all done when she appeared. They were carefully fitting into place the rusty piece of stove-pipe which was the crowning glory of the structure. Katy and Gertie were seated on an old barrel turned over on its side, watching the process. They made room for Chicken Little between them.
Ernest got to his feet after the stove-pipe was snugly set with a grunt of satisfaction.
”Frank said we'd better wait for half an hour before we started a fire to let the mortar dry. The sun's pretty hot. Maybe it won't take quite so long today.”
”Let's play tag while we wait,” suggested Katy.