selected the front parlor as the most secluded spot she could find, the
front parlor being reserved for visitors and holidays exclusively.

Its quiet this evening was almost oppressive. Jane stared about the room
seeking inspiration in vain. The old mahogany chairs upholstered in hair
cloth were shinily forbidding. The globes of wax flowers and fruit that
adorned two small marble-topped tables, were equally cold. The silver
water set suggested ice water, and the "Death of Wesley" which
monopolized one wall could hardly be considered cheering. Chicken Little
shivered, and taking an ottoman, ensconced herself between the lace
curtains at a west window where the late autumn sunshine was still
streaming in.

She sucked the end of the lead pencil meditatively.

"Dear Mister Fletcher," she wrote, then paused for ideas. Writing to
Uncle Joseph she found was a very different matter from talking to Dick
Harding. She was picturing Mr. Fletcher in her mind as a cross between a
minister and a tame bear. But Jane had a bulldog grit that carried her
over hard places, and she finally achieved a letter.

"I guess you'll be surprised to hear from me but I want you to know bout
Alice. Katy says your too stuck up is why you wont do anything for
Alice. But I thought mebbe you didn't know how bad she wants to go to
school. Alice says if she could go to school for two years she could
teach and pay you back. She wants to go to school so she can be like
other people stead of being a hired girl. Shes an awful nice hired girl.
Mother says so and shes prittiern anybody cept Marian. I love her heaps.
Alice says mebbe you would lend her the money only she wont ask you
cause you weren't nice to her mother and she got awful hungry sometimes.
Please Mister Fletcher let Alice go to school cause she cries when she
thinks nobody's looking. She thought mebbe she could get some money for
the cestificuts but Mr. Gassett wont do anything.

"Respeckfully,
"JANE MORTON.

"P. S. Most everybody calls me Chicken Little. P'r'aps you'd better put
it on the letter.
"J. M."

It took two entire sheets of the pink note paper to hold this
communication. Chicken Little opened and shut her cramped hand regarding
it with mingled satisfaction and distrust. She had never written so
long a letter before. She we