“You mean things to eat the melons all up.” Chicken Little almost forgot her own offense in her disgust over their greediness.
The boys did not waste time defending themselves; their attention was concentrated on the girls’ peculiar costume.
“Well, what in the demnition bow wows have you been doing now, Chicken Little Jane Morton?” Ernest’s gaze wandered from his sister to Katy, who suddenly became self-conscious and tucked her feet 213and as much of her trouser-clad legs as she could manage, underneath her.
Chicken Little gave a start of surprise, then faced Ernest boldly.
“Oh, just having a little fun.”
By this time Ernest was beginning to grasp details. “Suppose next time you start out to have fun you let my things alone. Isn’t that Sherm’s best tie you’ve got on?”
Chicken Little clutched the offending tie and glanced hastily at Sherm. The boy was regarding her with a peculiar expression, both admiring and disapproving. There was no denying that Chicken Little made a most attractive boy.
The swift color swept into the girl’s face as she caught Sherm’s glance. “Oh, dear, and he had told her only that morning that girls should be different!” She liked Sherm–she didn’t want him to think she was a bold, awful girl. Some way their prank seemed to need excusing. She replied to the look in Sherm’s eyes rather than to her brother’s accusation.
“We–I wanted to ride Caliph–I just knew I could if I didn’t have a lot of horrid skirts to frighten him. And we did beautiful stunts and we couldn’t, if we hadn’t put on your old things. I bet if you had to wear cluttering things like skirts all the time you’d be glad to take them off some times, too.” 214Chicken Little’s big brown eyes sought Sherm’s appealingly.
Ernest answered before Sherm could say anything.