y three hairs as her own invariably did.

Gertie Halford was a gentle little mouse of a girl with soft hazel eyes,
who loved pretty things and hated anything rough or boisterous. Her
sister Katy's gray eyes, on the contrary, were shrewd and keen, as was
their small owner, who could be relied upon to take care of herself and
have her own way on all occasions. The sisters were nine and eleven
respectively, and Chicken Little not quite ten.

Jane Morton or Chicken Little Jane, as she had been nicknamed while a
toddler, because she was always teasing for the story of "Chicken
Little," was usually described as all eyes. Her slim, active legs,
however, were also a very important part of her anatomy. But her eyes
easily held the center of the stage--big and brown and wondering, they
had a way of looking at you as if you were the only person about. Her
straight brown hair was swept back from her face by a round rubber comb
and tied atop her head with a ribbon for further security. Despite these
precautions, it usually looked as if it needed brushing. Her clothes,
too, were prone to accidents because of her habit of roosting on picket
fences or tree branches. Today, however, she was almost as spick and
span as Katy and Gertie. She had just been through the painful process
of cleaning up after dinner.

The children burst into Mrs. Morton's bedroom without the ceremony of
knocking, too intent upon the news they had to tell, to inquire what
Mrs. Morton wanted.

"Say, Mother," Chicken Little began jerkily with what breath was left
from running upstairs, "Alice says she used to live in this house when
she was a little girl!"

Mrs. Morton paused in adjusting the folds of black lace around her plump
shoulders and stared at her small daughter in astonishment.

"Alice--in this house--a servant-girl--nonsense! Dear me, I hope she
isn't untruthful; she seemed so promising."

"But she says her father used to own this house--she says they weren't
always poor, and she never 'spected to have to be a hired girl. Yes, and
Katy says she remembers when the Fletchers lived here and they used to
have a lot of company--didn't you, Katy?" Katy nodded importantly.

"Yes, Ma-am, my mother says it's a shame Alice has to go out to work.
She says it would break her mother's heart, only she's dead and doesn't
know it."

"And her father's dead, too," broke in Gertie, anxious to add her quota,
"but she's got an uncle and aunt that ain't dead--they l