Part 24 (1/2)

d.i.c.k looked off where the smoke of the departing train could still be plainly seen in the distance.

Chicken Little followed his gaze but not his thoughts.

”Do you s'pose I'll ever go 'way off to school, Mr. Harding?”

”I think it likely some day. When you do, I'll promise to see you off and bring you a big box of candy, if I'm round when you start. Say, how would it do to stop in at Jackson's and get the candy today? I might not be there when the time comes, you know.”

They stopped and made the important purchase after much deliberation as to kinds.

”I like gum drops and chocolate creams best,” Jane volunteered naively.

”Mr. Harding is too generous,” her mother remarked with a wry smile when Jane proudly displayed her trophy. She had never had a whole boxful of candy before. Usually a dime's worth had been the maternal limit.

Chicken Little treated Katy and Gertie and Ernest and Carol and Sherm and the new maid, with lavish generosity. She also ate all her mother would let her, herself. Finally, Mrs. Morton ordered her to put the rest away for the next day. It would have been well for Chicken Little if her mother's direction had extended to the next day as well. But by morning Mrs. Morton had forgotten all about the candy. Chicken Little had strict orders not to eat sweets before breakfast so she heroically withstood temptation until her last bite of waffle was swallowed, then munched away till school time. The box with its remaining contents accompanied her to school to her later undoing.

She had never known such popularity as was hers when the other children found what the big box contained. One boy made her a present of a brand new slate pencil on the spot. She was allowed to choose up for her side in ”No bears out tonight,” though this honor usually fell to one of the bigger girls. By the time the bell rang she felt blissfully important.

She settled regretfully down to her work with the candy snugly tucked away inside her desk.

All went well until about the middle of the geography recitation, when turning around from her work at the board, she caught the small boy, who sat across the aisle, in the act of helping himself to a handful of her cherished sweets. She was surprised into forgetting where she was and exclaimed out loud:

”Oh, you mustn't!”

The teacher looked up in pained amazement.

”Who was that spoke out loud?” she demanded.

Chicken Little raised a reluctant hand.

”Jane Morton, I'm surprised--I wouldn't have believed it of you! You may stand on the floor by my desk for half an hour.”

The teacher had been much annoyed by whispering that morning, the children being all more or less riotous after their vacation, so without stopping to investigate, as was her usual custom, she promptly visited the sins of the whole school upon Jane.

Jane had never stood upon the floor for punishment before and she felt the disgrace keenly. It hurt the child's sense of fairness, too, but she dared not try to explain lest Miss Brown should confiscate the remainder of her precious candy. She took her book and walked slowly over to the spot indicated in front of the whole school, her face growing redder and redder. It was several minutes before she dared lift her eyes and face her mates.

When she did, several of her friends telephoned furtive messages of sympathy that cheered her a little. But her humiliation over her disgrace was soon swallowed up in wrath when the offending small boy, who had caused all her troubles, added insult to injury by ostentatiously eating his booty whenever the teacher's back was turned.

He would roll his eyes and smack his lips in the utmost enjoyment.

Chicken Little forgot her disgrace in a desire for revenge. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she cared. She set herself resolutely to study, avoiding even a glance in his direction. But she did more than study; she laid her plans for swift vengeance. When permitted to go back to her seat, she still ignored him though he did his best to attract her attention.

His place in the line was just ahead of hers, and she followed him down the halls and the long stairs calculating to a nicety just how she would get even. The moment they pa.s.sed through the outside door, the boy turned for a parting taunt. He did not get it out. Before he could utter a single sound Chicken Little struck him a resounding slap in the face with all her young might.

The youngster would have hit back, but another boy grabbed him and ordered him roughly to let little girls alone. And Chicken Little went home ashamed but solaced.

She was nervous for a while lest her mother should hear of her sc.r.a.pe.

However, several days went by and she was beginning to breathe easier, when Brother Frank overtook her one morning on her way to school.

”h.e.l.lo, Sis, what is this I hear about having a prize-fighter in the family?”