Part 46 (1/2)

”It isn't as much fun going away as I thought it would be,” she mourned.

That afternoon saw the last dray load of boxes and furniture taken down to be loaded into the freight car. The trunks were all packed and strapped and placed by the front door ready to be taken to the station on the morrow.

Dr. and Mrs. Morton with Ernest and Jane were to spend their last night with the Halfords. Chicken Little was to sleep in the trundle bed with Katy and Gertie. It was most exciting to see Mrs. Halford pull it out from under the big four-poster. It stood about a foot from the floor and was covered with a blue and white woven coverlid, which Mrs. Halford said her mother had made for her when she was married.

”I like a trundle bed,” said Katy, ”because if you roll out, you don't b.u.mp so hard.”

”Katy is such a restless child she falls out of bed about once a week,”

laughed Mrs. Halford. ”She sleeps all over Gertie. If she tries to take her third on your side just give her a punch, Jane. I am sorry I have to crowd you all in together, but I guess you little girls will sleep even if you are thick.”

It seemed doubtful, however, if they would sleep themselves or permit anyone else to sleep that night. They whispered and t.i.ttered far into the night in spite of warning hushes from Mrs. Halford and sundry raps on the wall from Dr. Morton's side.

Neighbors and friends had flocked in that evening to say good-by to Dr.

and Mrs. Morton. And the children, though banished upstairs, had kept tab on the gathering below by das.h.i.+ng to the head of the stairs, regardless of nighties, every time the bell rang.

When d.i.c.k Harding appeared they ducked down modestly behind the bannisters and yelled at him.

”I thought you were coming to the station tomorrow,” Chicken Little reproached him.

”I am, Miss Morton, wild horses couldn't keep me away, but I wanted to have a little visit with your father and mother tonight. I will see you off tomorrow.”

Chicken Little was awake early the next morning in spite of their late hours. The child had been wakeful, partly because she was unused to sleeping with anyone, partly because the unknown life ahead was beginning to oppress her vaguely.

Katy and Gertie were still sleeping peacefully so she wriggled out quietly and dressing herself, slipped over into the dear old yard she was so soon to leave for good. She took a last swing under the old apple trees, digging the tips of her toes into the worn place in the sod and listening to the birds in the branches overhead. There was a little choke in her throat as she stared at the alley fence, and the fence corner by the street where the remains of her last play house were still strewn about. She didn't like this new feeling, and getting out of the swing, she went over among the flower beds to cheer herself up. There a riot of autumn blossoms sparkled with dew drops in the early morning suns.h.i.+ne.

”I'll pick some pansies and mignonette for Mother,” she said half aloud, ”she loves them so.”

She picked till her hands were full of the purple and yellow and white flower faces and the fragrant green spikes. Then she laid her cl.u.s.ter down in the shade and fell to making morning-glory ladies with larkspur hats to match their gowns. A whistle from the fence disturbed her. She looked up and saw Pat Casey waving to her.

”I've got something for you.”

She went to the fence.

”Hold your skirt,” Pat commanded. She did so and Pat dropped in a handful of big yellow plums.

”I've got a lot more in my pockets,” he said as she started to thank him.

He had. The pockets appeared to be practically bottomless, as Pat hauled out handful after handful till the skirt of Jane's neat little traveling dress began to sag dangerously with the weight.

”They aren't much,” he said apologetically, ”but I wanted to bring you something. Pete's getting along fine. Mother likes him--she says he'll be company for Maggie when she's out was.h.i.+ng. And Maggie's that happy you wouldn't believe it. We're awful obliged.”

Pat's desire to bring Chicken Little something seemed to be contagious.

Grace Dart caught sight of them out at the fence and ran over bearing a parting gift.

”I want you to have it, Jane. I cracked the mirror and the lining of the box is torn a little but the rest's most as good as new. And I truly think Victoria is the prettiest.”

She thrust the remains of the prize toilet set into Chicken Little's hands with a beaming smile.

Chicken Little entirely forgot that she didn't like Grace Dart.