ld 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,