201The three set up a united protest.
“Father said it would only be a few weeks when we caught them, and it’s been five already,” Chicken Little remonstrated hotly.
“Well, don’t go for me. You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you.”
Frank grinned so broadly that Jane grew suspicious. “Pooh, you’re teasing, I’ll ask Father to-night.”
The girls scoured the pantry and spring house for provender for the picnic. Sherm and Ernest would be in from the meadow where they were cutting down thistles about half-past twelve. Bread and butter and cold ham were flanked with cookies, pie, and musk melons. Annie wanted them out of her road as speedily as possible, so they took their stuff all down to the orchard and stowed it away in the shade.
“Now what?” demanded Katy.
“I don’t know. Wish we could think of something new.” Chicken Little stared up and down the rows of apple trees, seeking an inspiration.
Her glance fell upon a lone apple tree standing in the center of an open space, apart from all its fellows. Katy’s glance followed hers.
“Why is that old tree all by itself that way?”
“I don’t know–they were all big trees when we came here. It is a bell-flower and we call it Old 202King Bee. Say, I’ve got an idea. Let’s get Calico and Caliph and play riding school–you remember that article in ‘The Harper’s’ about a riding school in New York, and you said you wished you could go.”