CHICKEN LITTLE JANE'S GIFT
"Well, Alice," said Dr. Morton, coming in one noon stamping and shaking
the snow off his broad shoulders. "I have discovered why you haven't
heard from Gassett again. He is down with typhoid fever--looks like a
bad case. He won't be in a condition to start lawsuits for some weeks,
so you may set your mind at rest for the present."
The Christmas holidays had gone by all too quickly for the Morton
family. The children were already grumbling about starting back to
school. Dr. Morton had a number of very sick patients on his hands and
looked worried in consequence. Mrs. Morton was helping Alice with her
simple wardrobe, and Alice was helping Mrs. Morton break in a new maid.
It was really a great comfort to Mrs. Morton to feel that Alice could
now be received as an equal. She had grown fond of her unconsciously,
but according to her rigid ideas, friendship with a servant was
impossible. "I have always felt," she told her friends, "that Alice was
too refined for her situation. Blood will tell, you know."
Chicken Little and Ernest mourned Alice's departure loudly. Ernest
turned up his nose promptly at the new girl--a willing soul with scant
intelligence.
"Have we got to have that thing round, Mother?" he demanded in deep
disgust. He had just deluged his hot cakes with cream which Olga had put
in the syrup jug by mistake.
"I'm afraid so, my son, until we can find someone better. Girls are hard
to get in this town. Alice has certainly spoiled us."
"What did you let her go for?" Ernest grumbled as if keeping her with
them were optional.
"Why, Ernest, I thought you were pleased with Alice's good fortune."
"Well, that's not saying I want her to go off and never see her again."
"Oh, you'll see me again, Ernest," said Alice, coming into the room just
then and divining the boy's mood.
"I am coming back to Centerville as soon as I finish school. It seems so
hard to leave you all. You've been so good to me----"
Alice broke down and turned hurriedly away to hide her tears.
Chicken Little jumped up and threw her arms around Alice's waist, laying
her face against her hands lovingly.
Alice hugged the child tight.
"I am going to miss you so, dear. There won't be any little girl to
cuddle at Uncle Joseph's."
Jane followed Alice into her room after breakfast to help pack the shiny
new trunk. This was Alice's last day.
"My, isn't it grand! It's got a place for hats and your parasol--and
what are these little places for, Alice?" Chicken Little was eagerly
investigating.
"Oh, handkerchiefs and ties and gloves. I'm a lucky girl to have all
these nice things. Just think--three new dresses! Blue and brown
cashmeres for school and a green silk poplin for Sunday best--aren't
these little bows down the front cunning?"
Alice surveyed her treasures with a sigh of satisfaction.
"If they'll only like me a little at Uncle Joseph's. I wish I could take
you along, Chicken Little Jane, I wouldn't be lonely if I had you."
"Will you be dreadfully lonely, Alice?" Chicken Little was getting
concerned.
"I am afraid I will, Chicken Little."
The child pondered the matter for the rest of the morning.
At dinner, she interrupted her father in the midst of a story to ask:
"Can people take dogs or birds on a train?"
"Yes, Chicken, what did you want to know for? The dogs are usually put
in the baggage car."
"If it was just a puppy would it have to go in the baggage car?"
"Why if it was very tiny it might be carried in a covered box or
basket."
Jane subsided for several minutes then interrupted again.
"Could you put a kitty in a basket?"
"I guess so, but don't interrupt me so much, child." Dr. Morton replied
carelessly.
"Yes, Jane, that is a very bad habit you are forming. It is not polite
to break into a conversation that way--especially when older people are
talking," Mrs. Morton added impressively.
After dinner Chicken Little began to rummage. First she found a collar
box with a cover. She took this to her mother and asked if she might
have it. Her mother readily gave it to her, but apparently the child was
not satisfied. She looked it over dubiously. "I don't believe it could
breathe," she said to herself.
The collar box was discarded and she began another search. She finally
resurrected a small covered sewing basket considerably the worse for
wear, which her mother was also willing to part with.
Her next move was to line the basket with cotton batting after which she
hunted out a doll blanket from her playthings.
"I guess that'll be enough," she remarked aloud.
These preparations completed, she tucked the basket under her arm and
slipping out the side gates, went over to Grace Dart's. She had not
taken the trouble to ask permission.
About ten minutes later she returned carrying the basket most carefully.
Very little was seen of her till train time. When she started down to
the station with her mother and Alice she still had the basket with her.
Mrs. Morton did not notice it until Chicken Little put it down beside
her on the seat of the omnibus.
"What are you bringing that old basket for?" she asked.
"Oh, just 'cause."
"Well, of all the queer children!" Mrs. Morton sighed. Chicken Little's
whims were very puzzling at times.
Alice suspected that the basket contained some parting gift for herself.
Ernest had hung around her at the last and had finally thrust a big bag
of candy into her hand--an offering that deeply touched her since she
knew he must have spent his last penny to buy it.
[Illustration: Give her this on the train and--please ... carefully.]
They found Dick Harding at the station. Chicken Little heaved a sigh
of relief when she caught sight of him. She had an idea.
When the train rolled in and he picked up Alice's valise to carry it
into the car for her, Chicken Little pulled at his arm. As he leaned
down, she whispered hastily; "Give her this on the train and--please,
carry it carefully."
Dick Harding took the basket. Mrs. Morton was bidding Alice good-by and
did not notice the transfer.
Mr. Harding seated Alice and delivered the sewing basket.
"Here is something very special Miss Jane Morton wished me to give you.
I have an idea its contents may surprise you, judging from certain
sounds I heard."
Alice took it on her lap and lifted the cover.
A sheet of bright pink note paper lay on top. It read, "With love for
Alice so you won't be lonesome."
Beneath the note paper a tiny gray head peeped out from under a doll
blanket and a plaintive "miauw" greeted her.
"Well, I never!" laughed Alice. "What can I do with it?"
"Keep the basket and I'll put kitty in my pocket and dispose of her
some way."
"No, indeed, I'll manage somehow--bless the child. This must be the
kitty Grace Dart promised her. If they'll only let me keep it at Uncle
Joseph's I believe it will be a real comfort."
Dick Harding lifted Jane up for a parting wave to Alice through the car
window as the train pulled out. Alice held up a pert maltese kitten and
made it wave its paw in return.
"Why--where did she get that kitten?" gasped Mrs. Morton, a sudden
suspicion entering her mind. "Chicken Little Jane was that what you had
in that basket?"
Chicken Little looked abashed, but Dick Harding came to the rescue.
"Mrs. Morton, may Jane walk up with me--I'll take good care of her?"
After a moment's hesitation Mrs. Morton consented. Dick handed her into
the omnibus and Chicken Little trotted joyfully along beside him. Dick
Harding seemed to enjoy having the warm little hand tucked confidingly
into his own.
It was an ideal winter day, clear and crisp and gorgeously white.
They walked along in silence for a few minutes before Jane burst out
with the idea that was occupying her small brain.
"Why does it make people nicer to go to school a lot? I don't think
Alice could be any nicer, do you, Mr. Harding? Our teacher's gone to
school, oh, most always, I guess, and I don't think she's near as nice
as Alice."
Dick Harding laughed heartily.
"Miss Alice is A1, isn't she? And we don't like to have her go away so
far--do we? Education doesn't always make people nicer, but it often
helps, Chicken Little. You like your father's ways rather better than
old Jake's don't you? Well, your father has education and Jake hasn't.
That's not all the difference but it is part. Besides, even if it didn't
make us nicer to know things, it is rather good fun to learn them, don't
you think?"
He patted the hand in his and smiled down at her. Chicken Little partly
understanding yet puzzled, smiled back.
They walked on a half block farther before Jane found anything more to
say.
"I guess Alice won't be lonesome now she's got the kitty. Don't you
think it was a pretty kitty? I wanted it awfully bad myself but I've got
Ernest and Katy and Gertie to play with and Alice won't have anybody you
know."
Dick Harding stifled a laugh as he recalled Alice's surprised face.
"I think that was an uncommonly pretty kitty and you were very generous
to give it away when you wanted it yourself. It is mighty hard to part
with things we want ourselves, don't you think so, little partner?"
Dick 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 passed 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 scrape.
However, several days went by and she was beginning to breathe easier,
when Brother Frank overtook her one morning on her way to school.
"Hello, Sis, what is this I hear about having a prize-fighter in the
family?"
Jane's face grew hot, but she looked at him mutely.
"I thought it was only rough boys who smashed in people's noses and made
them bleed. I didn't suppose my gentle little sister would do such a
thing."
Chicken Little swallowed hard but still kept silent and Frank pressed
harder.
"I have always believed my little sister was a lady. I am afraid Mother
will be grieved to hear what her daughter has been doing."
Words came to Chicken Little at last in a burst of sobs:
"I don't care--he took my candy--I had to stand--on--on the floor--and
it wasn't fair--you can just go and tell Mother if you want to!"
Frank took her hand and patted it.
"Out with the whole story, Sis. I suspected there was something more to
it than I heard--you aren't usually warlike."
So Chicken Little sobbed out the woeful tale. Brother Frank smiled
broadly above the bent head over the ludicrous incident, but he
controlled himself sufficiently to admonish soberly.
"Well, Johnny seems to have deserved all he got. At the same time, Jane,
I don't think I'd do such a thing again, if I were you."