ud,
"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 cluster
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 washing. 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