“I shouldn’t mind if they had cooked two of the pigs,” groaned Katy. They were giving their charges an extra big feed, being fearful lest they should forget them in the excitement of the guests’ arrival.
“Neither would I,” Chicken Little replied with a sigh. “I’m sick of the sight of ’em!”
Gertie threw a carrot and hit the one time beauteous white one with the curly tail, so smart a rap on his snout that he squealed his disapproval while his relatives bagged the carrot.
“I don’t care if I don’t get any money for my share of ’em,” said Katy after a pause of disgusted contemplation of the pigs. “I’d have to spend it 223for something useful like as not, or give some of it to the heathens. Let’s give them back to your father.”
“I’d just as lief, only Frank and the boys would tease us everlastingly if we backed out now–and we’ve worked so hard!”
“I don’t care. I’d just as lief quit.” Gertie’s discouraged expression was so funny that Chicken Little laughed and Gertie, the patient, flared. She hated to be funny.
“Stop it–I am not going to help you feed those horrid pigs another time, Chicken Little Jane Morton. I’ve just been doing it to help you out. And I don’t think it’s a suitable occupation for girls–or company!” Gertie climbed down from her perch on the log pen and departed with dignity.
“Humph, I guess I never asked you to help me. Besides, you expected to get as much money as I did. You can just go off and sulk if you want to.”
“Well, I don’t think that is a nice way to talk to your guests.” Katy climbed down and departed to soothe her sister.
Chicken Little whacked her heels against the logs and made a face at the nearest pig to relieve her feelings. She loathed the creatures. She wished she could wipe them off the face of the earth. Katy was half way to the house when she had an inspiration. 224“Katy!” she called eagerly, “Katy, I’ve got an idea.”