The girls lined up along the trunk as near Miss Brown as possible, but the boys perched aloft, sitting astride some crotch or forked branch with their dinner pails hung conveniently on a twig nearby.
Doughnuts and sandwiches and apples went from grimy hands to eager mouths with a rapidity that astonished even Miss Brown despite her ten years of teaching. She had brought a big box of bright colored stick candy to top off with. One thoughtful boy gratefully started three cheers for Miss Brown by way of the thanks most of the children forgot. The hearty cheering of the shrill young voices went far to repay her for the morning’s trouble, and warmed her heart much more than the stiff little “I’ve had a nice time, Miss Brown,” “Good-bye, Miss Brown,” which the more gently-bred children conscientiously repeated at parting.
Chicken Little turned to look back at the teacher’s plain face as they left her at the school-house gate.
“I don’t mind hanging her a basket now—she—she didn’t act mad a bit today.”
She went straight over to Marian’s to display her treasures.
“Oh, the lovely woodsy things! I wouldn’t have believed there were so many out—how I love them!” and Marian sniffed the wild-wood fragrance hungrily.
“Oh, I do hope I’ll be well enough to go hunt them soon. Bring your baskets over here, Chicken Little—Katy and Gertie too, and let me help you fill them—I’d love to.”
Jane had something on her mind. She wanted to lay it before Marian but shyness overcame her whenever she opened her mouth to mention it. She hung round Marian’s chair restlessly till Marian discovered that she wanted something and helped her.
“What is it, Sis? Do you want some of my flowers for the baskets? Anything I’ve got except that big lily.”
“Oh, Marian, I don’t want to take your flowers—I just—wanted to ask you something.”