“It isn’t that I want to play them,” she argued, “but if I don’t, I’ll have to sit and look on and all the old folks’ll ask me if I’m not well, and the girls’ll say I’m stuck up. It wasn’t as easy as you seem to think, Ernest Morton, but I’ll promise, if you’ll promise not to kiss any girl while you’re gone.”
253“Nonsense, Jane, you don’t understand. It’s different with a boy.”
Chicken Little fixed her brown eyes upon Ernest’s face musingly.
“How is it different?”
“Chicken Little Jane Morton, haven’t you had any raising? You know as well as I do it isn’t nice for a girl to let boys kiss her.”
Chicken Little considered. “You needn’t be so toploftical; girls don’t want most boys to kiss ’em.”
“Most?”
“That’s what I said. I hated it when Grant kissed me at Mamie’s party, but I don’t know that I’d mind if Sherm—”
She got no further. Ernest bristled with brotherly indignation.
“Has Sherm ever—”