s
tongue at him and Joe Rolfe said, "Got any chickens to sell?" he laughed
with all his might, just to see how it would seem. Both the boys stared;
they didn't understand it. "Hello, Chicken Little, what's the matter
with you?"

Henry could see the eyes of his young teacher twinkling from between the
slats of the window-blinds, and he spoke up with a courage quite
unheard-of:--

"Nothing's the matter with _me!_"

"Hear that chicken," cried Joe Rolfe. "He's beginning to crow!"

Henry felt the tears starting; but as Miss Katharine at that moment
opened the blind far enough to shake her finger at him privately he
thought better of it, and faltered out:--

"See here, boys, I like to be called Chicken Little first rate! Say it
again. Say it fi-ive thousand times if you want to!"

"Oh, you're too willing," said Joe. "We'll try it some other time when
you get over being so willing!"

The bell rang; it sounded to Henry like a peal of joy. He walked in in
triumph, and as he passed by the little teacher she patted him on the
head. She did not need to wipe his eyes with her handkerchief, there
were no tears to be seen. He was not a brave boy yet by any means, but
he had made a beginning; yes, that very morning he had made a beginning.

"Don't you tease Henry Small any more, I don't like it at all," said
Katharine to Joseph Rolfe.

And then she slipped a paper of choice candy into Joe's hand, charging
him "not to eat it in school, now remember." It was a queer thing to do;
but then this was a queer school; and besides Kyzie had her own reasons
for thinking she ought to be very kind to Joe.

"How silly I was to suspect those little boys! I'm afraid I never shall
have much judgment. Still, on the whole, I believe I'm doing pretty
well," thought she, looking proudly at Henry Small's bright face, and
remembering too how Mr. Pollard had told her that very morning that his
son Nate was learning more arithmetic at her little school than he had
ever learned in the city schools. "Oh, I'm so glad," mused the little
teacher.

Mrs. Dunlee thought Kyzie did not get time enough for play. And just now
the little girl was unusually busy. They were talking at home of the new
entertainment to be given for Jimmy-boy's benefit, and she was to act a
part in it as well as Edith. It was "Jimmy's play," but Jimmy was not to
appear in it at all. Kyzie and Edith together were to print the tickets
with a pen. The white pasteboard had been cut i