Chicken Little Jane Part 46

"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.

"I'll write to you soon as we get settled," she promised.

Ernest came to fetch her to breakfast accompanied by Carol and Sherm, who had whistled for him before he was out of bed. These reinforcements soon lightened her load of plums and Grace Dart got her a paper bag for the rest.

Mrs. Halford's fried chicken and hot biscuit and honey were a great bracer. Chicken Little's teary mood slipped away and she revelled in the excitement of the good-byes. She promised everybody weekly letters for the remainder of her natural life.

"You must write to us the very first ones, Jane," Katy demanded.

"I see you young ones are fixing to break me up buying postage stamps,"

remonstrated Dr. Morton, trying to tease them.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Morton about an hour after breakfast, "has anyone fed Pete. I entirely forgot him last night and this morning. How could I be so careless?"

"Sure enough, where is Pete?" asked the doctor.

"He--he isn't here," replied Chicken Little. "I gave him away."

"That was nice--Katy and Gertie will take good care of him I know."

"I didn't give him to Katy and Gertie."

"Why--who?" Mrs. Morton looked puzzled.

"I gave him to Pat--when he came for the things."

"Well, I declare," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Morton. "You certainly are the queerest child! Well, I suppose if you wanted to give your pet to a little Irish boy instead of to your best friends it's all right."

Katy looked reproachfully at Jane, but Mrs. Halford understood.

"I told you Chicken Little wouldn't give you Pete when you teased him. I am glad you gave him to Pat, dear. He is a kind boy and the parrot will mean far more to him than to my little spoiled girls."

"Here comes the expressman for the trunks," said Dr. Morton. "You had better get your things on, Mother, the bus will soon be here."

Chicken Little danced up and down as the big yellow omnibus backed up to the front gate and d.i.c.k Harding swung off the top, where he had been sitting beside the driver.

"How many pa.s.sengers for Kansas?" he demanded.

"We're all going as far as the station if there's room," Mrs. Halford replied.

It was a merry group that gathered outside the car window. But tears were close to the smiles, for Marian was leaving father and mother and Mrs. Morton looked forward with anxiety to the new country and the new home.

Chicken Little felt blissfully important. d.i.c.k Harding had brought her a box of chocolate creams and gum drops to match Pat's bag of plums. She waved one in each hand as the train pulled out.

"Good-by, Mr. Harding. Good-by, Katy. Good-by, Gertie."

"Good-by, Chicken Little."

The rattle of the car wheels and the shriek of the engine drowned out their voices, but Chicken Little watched from the window until they were all a blur.