THINGS HAPPEN
If there had been any person left to get married, Chicken Little would
have been sure the family was preparing for another wedding during the
next few weeks. Her father and mother had their heads together over
something most of the time. Once she found her mother crying and she
seemed grave and worried.
"I wish people weren't always having secrets," Jane complained to
Ernest.
"It won't be a secret very long, Sis. They'll tell you as soon as they
really truly decide."
"Decide what?--tell me, Ernest."
"I can't because Father and Mother don't want it talked about, if they
don't go."
"Go where? Ernest, tell me. You're just as mean as you can be--I always
tell you things."
"Well, I know Mother is going to give in because Father's dead set on
going. Cross your heart that you won't tell a living soul till Mother
tells you."
Chicken Little crossed her heart emphatically. Ernest was quite as eager
to tell as she was to hear and soon poured out his tale.
"Maybe we're going to Kansas with Frank and Marian to live on the ranch.
I hope we'll go. Father says I can have a horse and there's lots of
hunting, quail and prairie chicken and plover--and a man killed some
antelope about sixteen miles west of the ranch last winter. There are a
few deer left, too, on the creek, Father says. Oh, I'm wild to go, but
Mother doesn't want to a bit."
Chicken Little was dazed for a moment.
"Would we stay there always? Wouldn't I ever see Katy and Gertie and
Dick Harding again? Why doesn't Mother want to go?"
"Goosie, you could come back here to visit. Father told Mother she
should come back at the end of a year. And maybe you could have a pony.
I wouldn't mind your riding mine sometimes when I don't want him, after
you learn how to ride. We'd be a whole day and night on the train.
Wouldn't that be jolly?"
"Oh, could I sleep in one of the little beds?"
"Of course, I told you we'd be all night on the train."
"Why doesn't Mother want to go?"
"She doesn't want to leave her friends and she doesn't want to live way
off on a farm where there isn't any church close by and only a country
school. What do you think, the school house has only one room and one
teacher? You'd be in the same room with me. Father says he'll have to
prepare me for college at home. I have to begin Latin next year. Gee, I
bet Father'll make me study. He thinks if you haven't got a lesson
perfect, you haven't got it at all."
Ernest was standing by the open window idly playing with the lace strap
that looped the curtain back.
"Say, there's Frank and Marian coming in with father now. I wonder
what's up. Bet they're going to settle the whole business right away."
The children listened until they heard the others go into the sitting
room and carefully close the door behind them--hot weather as it was.
Ernest laughed when the door clicked.
"Family council--children and dogs and neighbors please keep out.
They'll talk till dinner time. I'm going over to see Sherm."
Jane waited round a while expectantly, studying over the wonderful
possibility of moving but finally got tired and went to Halford's.
When she came home to dinner the sitting-room door was still closed and
a steady murmur of voices could be heard.
Olga rang the bell for dinner twice before that closed door was opened.
Chicken Little eyed them curiously as they filed out. Her father looked
eager and excited, but her mother's eyes were red as if she had been
crying again.
Dr. Morton put his arm around Chicken Little as she passed her and drew
her tenderly to him.
"How would you like to go and live on a farm, Humbug, where you could
have chickens and calves and ponies to play with? It would put more
color into your face I'll be bound."
"Could I have a pony, Father, all my own?"
Dr. Morton nodded.
"Gee, wouldn't that be fun?"
"Jane," said Mrs. Morton severely, "how often have I told you that
little ladies do not use slang?
"You seem to be planning to let the children run wild when they get out
to Kansas," she added, turning to Dr. Morton, "but I will have them use
correct English."
It did not take the news that the Mortons were moving to Kansas, long to
spread in the small town. Visitors flocked in to sympathize with Mrs.
Morton over going to a new country, and Dr. Morton's friends and
patients stopped him on the street to express their regret at losing
him.
There were still many things to be arranged before they could set a date
for their departure. Their chief concern was the home. Frank had been
fortunate enough to sell his pretty cottage, but the old-fashioned
gabled house with its wistaria vines and terraced lawns, was not so easy
to dispose of. Dr. Morton hoped to rent it for a year or two until he
could sell it. He was most anxious that they should all accompany Frank
and Marian to the new home in September.
One afternoon as Chicken Little was coming leisurely up the walk with
Katy and Gertie, Mrs. Morton called from the window:
"Hurry up, Chickabiddy, there is somebody here you would like to see."
The little girls started to run, guessing eagerly as to who the visitor
might be.
As Chicken Little crossed the threshold the mysterious someone pounced
upon her and lifted her up bodily from the floor, exclaiming:
"Oh, Chicken Little, I've been homesick to see you in spite of the
kitty! Dear me, how you have grown!"
It was Alice, laughing and crying and hugging her all in one instant.
Katy and Gertie came in for their share, too. Then they must all go into
the parlor to meet Uncle Joseph, for he had come all the way from
Cincinnati with Alice.
Jane edged rather shyly up to the dignified, gray-haired man who was
talking to her mother. She hadn't forgotten the evening when she had
written to him in fear and trembling beside the very window where he was
sitting now. But Uncle Joseph rose to meet her with a broad smile making
little kindly wrinkles around his eyes.
"So this is Chicken Little Jane," he said, taking both her hands and
looking down into her wondering brown eyes. "Well, Chicken Little, I
believe I should have known you anywhere. You look so exactly like
yourself, big eyes and all."
Uncle Joseph laughed at her mystified expression.
Alice came to the rescue.
"He means you look like my description of you, dear. I shall take great
credit to myself."
"You needn't," said Uncle Joseph, "for that's only partly what I mean.
She looks like what she does. What do you make of that?" he demanded,
turning suddenly to Katy, who was regarding him with open-eyed
curiosity.
Katy was startled but her keen wits hit the nail on the head promptly.
"I guess you mean she looks like she'd do anything she thought she ought
to and you couldn't make her if she didn't want to."
"Good for you, child, that's just what I do mean--and it is a very
valuable trait of character, little girls. Chicken Little, I was much
obliged to you for showing me what I ought to do last winter."
He drew her to him with an affectionate pat.
"And I am grateful to you for so many things, Jane. I shall never be
able to half thank you, dear." And Alice came over to give her another
hug.
"Don't praise the child so much, you'll spoil her," objected Mrs.
Morton.
"I can't help it, Mrs. Morton--she and Mr. Harding have given me Uncle
Joseph and now it looks as if the letter she took to Mr. Harding, might
give me back my father's property and this old home."
"I am in hopes that may help you and Dr. Morton, Madam," said Uncle
Joseph gravely. "Mr. Harding tells us Dr. Morton is anxious to sell the
place, and if Mr. Gassett makes the settlement we hope for, he will
simply pay back the purchase money to Dr. Morton because the place was
never his to sell. He has arranged to meet us tomorrow morning."
It was several years later before Jane was old enough to understand
exactly how the letter she and Gertie had carried to Dick Harding could
work all the wonders it seemed to be responsible for.
Mrs. Morton said it was the work of Providence that this special letter
was preserved and found at just the right time. Uncle Joseph declared
that Alice's asking them to hunt through the old closets had more to do
with it than Providence. But Dick Harding said it wasn't Providence at
all--it was paper dolls and Chicken Little Jane.
"At any rate," he said, "I never heard of Providence making a man turn
green, and Gassett certainly did when I showed him his own writing and
read him about two paragraphs of it. There it was in black and white
that the mortgage on the house had been paid in full, and that the bank
had just returned Mr. Fletcher's stock certificates deposited with them
to secure a firm debt. The letter was jubilant over the business success
that had enabled Fletcher and Gassett to pay up, and Mr. Gassett
declared he was grateful beyond measure to Alice's father for risking
his bank stock for the firm credit. Nice way he took to show his
gratitude, wasn't it?" Dick Harding looked the disgust he could not
express.
Uncle Joseph had been telling the Mortons what happened when Mr. Gassett
met them in Mr. Harding's office.
"Did he show any signs of fight at the start?" inquired Dr. Morton.
"Oh, he tried to bluster for a moment," replied Dick, "but I asked him
'Do we go on with this case in court, Mr. Gassett, or do we not? Yes,
or no?' 'No,' said Mr. Gassett, so we got down to business."
"He was willing to do anything to hush the matter up," added Uncle
Joseph. "It took exactly ten minutes to hand over a check for the money
Dr. Morton paid him for the house, and to give Alice a paper resigning
all claim to the bank stock. I have an idea the old rascal was afraid we
might discover something else he had stolen."
"The Gassetts are going away I understand," said Dr. Morton. "Well, it's
a lucky strike for me to get the money back for the house. I am
delighted, too, that Alice is to have her parent's home. Do you ever
expect to come back to live in it, Alice?"
Alice blushed and Dick Harding looked confused.
"I hope to--some day," she answered softly.
Uncle Joseph and Alice went back to Cincinnati on the fifteenth of
August. The next two weeks were busy ones in the Morton home. The old
gabled house was in the dire throes of packing.
Chicken Little could not remember any previous moving and she thoroughly
enjoyed the excitement despite the fact that her mother looked worried,
and her father was cross when she got in his way. She watched him fill
box after box with books, for Dr. Morton had a large professional
library besides the family books which ran into the hundreds. She loved
to see the crates and barrels swallow up dishes and crockery like hungry
monsters with wide-open jaws. She found even the wrapping of chair legs
with excelsior, and the crating of bureau and tables, interesting.
"Looks just like they were put in cages," remarked Katy, peering through
the slats at a lonesome-looking, marble-topped stand.
Gertie gazed about at the stripped walls and windows and gave a little
shiver. "I don't like it--it looks like you were gone, Chicken Little."
The house certainly had a forlorn look and an empty ring. Pete sat on
his perch grim and curious. He seemed to regard the bustle and hammering
as a personal affront.
"It seems almost foolish to take Pete along," Mrs. Morton remarked as
she passed him one morning. "You will have so many pets on the ranch?
Why don't you give him to Katy and Gertie?"
"But, Mother, Pete wouldn't like it. He'd be lonesome without his
Chicken Little--wouldn't you, Pete?"
Pete was not in a good humor. "Go off and die," he croaked morosely.
The family laughed at Jane's discomfiture.
As the time approached for them to go, the talk of leaving the parrot
behind became more serious. It was already apparent that the family
would be overburdened with hand baggage and Pete would be difficult to
care for on the train.
Mrs. Morton's globes of wax flowers and fruit were proving a
complication. It seemed impossible to pack the fragile handiwork and the
delicate glass shades so there would be any hope of their reaching
Kansas safely.
"Confound them," exclaimed Frank in desperation, "I wish Mother could be
persuaded to part with the old things. They always did make the cold
chills go up and down my back. I guess I have been cautioned 499 times
by actual count not to run into those globes and not to joggle the
tables they were on."
"But, Frank, the wax flowers and fruit are the very apple of your
mother's eye. They were the height of fashion ten years ago. She spent
days and days making and coloring them--they really are exquisitely
done," protested Marian.
"But they are such a nuisance! Just picture us lugging Jane's parrot and
those two huge globes on the train in addition to the satchels and lunch
boxes. We'll look like a traveling circus."
Marian laughed at his wry face.
"It is awful--but think of your mother. I'll carry one of the globes
myself."
"Not much you won't. You will be tired enough with the journey without
that burden."
"I'll carry the fruit," volunteered Ernest. "I expect the boys'll laugh
but Mother feels bad enough about going away anyhow."
"Yes, poor Mother is giving up a good deal to go with us. We must always
remember that."
"All right, behold me with two satchels in one fist, Mother's tower of
wax flowers hugged to my manly breast with the other hand, while I
assist the ladies on the train, and clasp my friends' fists in fond
farewell with a third. But what of Chicken Little's parrot?"
"I could carry Pete," said Chicken Little.
"Not unless we left his cage behind, Chick, but don't worry your head.
We will find some way to get the family plunder on board."
Jane was thoughtful for the remainder of the day. She took Pete over to
Halford's that afternoon and the children let him hop about from one
room to another.
Gertie hovered over him a careful slave, but Katy enjoyed teasing him
and made him ruffle up his feathers angrily a time or two.
Chicken Little rescued him, and cuddling him up on her shoulder, carried
him tenderly home.
"No, I just couldn't," she said to herself. "I am sure he'd be
homesick."