CHAPTER III.
A FOUNDATION THAT BROUGHT KAT TO GRIEF.
Slam! went the gate, knocking the dead leaves right and left, and whiz! went two girls up the walk, like unruly sky-rockets, with the odd ends flying. Rattle-de-tap, went four feet with steel-capped heels over the old shady porch, and bang! went the door back against the wall; then:——
"Mama,——"
"Bea,—Er,——"
"Nestine, Olive,——"
"Jean, hurry;—let me tell first. Miss——"
"I beat to the steps, I ought to tell," shrieked Kat, as Kittie choked for breath. "Miss Howard is going to give us a,——"
"Nutting party!" shouted Kittie, with a triumphant breath. "Hurrah, three cheer-r-s!"
"Mercy on me," cried a voice from up stairs. "What is the matter; what are you doing?"
"Kittie's dancing a jig, and Kat's sliding down the bannisters," exclaimed a horrified voice from somewhere else. "Mercy! Bea, call mama; I think they've gone crazy."