Polly and Margy went out to the barn. The sliding door was pushed half-way open, and there on the barn floor they beheld a remarkable sight. They stared, wondering what it could be.
“Jess!” called Polly, uncertainly. “Jess! is that you?”
CHAPTER IV
HALLOWE’EN FUN
“Come away,” whispered Margy. “That isn’t Jess.”
But it was Jess. The rolling figure sat up and stared at them with Jess’s own brown eyes.
“Hello!” said Jess, none too cordially.
“What in the world are you doing?” asked Margy, more frankly than politely.
“I’m busy,” answered Jess.
“You’re a sight—isn’t she, Polly?” said Margy.
Polly didn’t wish to agree, but the truth was that Jess was the most remarkable looking girl she had ever seen. She seemed to be covered with feathers—her hair and face and hands. They were on her shoes, her stockings, and parts of her dress. There was almost as much dirt and dust mixed with the feathers as there was flour paste, and that had evidently been used in liberal quantities.