“I don’t love music so very much–I hate to practice. I shouldn’t care for their singing very much by itself, it’s seeing the actors and thinking how they feel–and their pretty clothes and—”
Mrs. Webb laughed.
“Chicken Little, I envy you–you are going to see so many things that most people shut their eyes to.”
Jane studied about this, but she hardly liked to ask what things Mrs. Webb meant, because that lady seemed to expect her to know, and she felt she would appear stupid not to. She lay awake a long time that night; the music seemed to be splashing 323over her in little waves of melody. Even after she had once fallen asleep, she awakened to find her brain still humming the insistent measures. The next morning she went downtown with her hostess and met Mamie Jenkins in a store.
“Why, Chicken Little, I didn’t know you were in town? Your brother didn’t say anything about your being here.”
“Frank? Is he in already?”
“Yes, I just saw him. Say, did you know a crowd of us are going out to his house to-night to an oyster supper?”
“No, who’s going?”
“Oh, a lot of the town boys and girls, and Grant Stowe and me. John Hardy asked him if a crowd of us couldn’t come out to-night and surprise your sister, and Frank said come along, he’d have some hot oysters for us. The boys have got a big bobsled from the livery stable. I bet we have a lovely time. Why don’t you and Sherm stay in and go out with us–I guess there’ll be room. Anyhow, you can always crowd more into a bobsled, it’s more fun when you’re packed in.”
Mamie giggled expressively.