“I’m not, Katy Halford, I’m not afraid the least speck and I can stay here just as long as you can!” Chicken Little repelled this slur upon her courage indignantly.
“Pooh, I’m going to stay here till the dinner bell rings,” declared Katy with a confidence she did not feel. She had been secretly hoping for several minutes that her mother would call them in.
A blinding flash put a period to her sentence. There were three alarmed “Ohs!” and three pairs of frightened eyes blinked an instant from the glare.
Then Gertie picked herself up resolutely.
“I’m going straight in to Mother. I am ’fraid of lightning and I don’t care who knows it—and you don’t like it any better than I do, Katy, but you just think it’s smart to pretend.” And Gertie gathered her flapping gossamer about her and scurried for the house.
Katy looked at Chicken Little and Chicken Little looked at Katy. They were both longing to follow but neither would give in.
Suddenly another and then another dazzling flash blinded them. The forked flames seemed launched straight at them and the deafening crash that followed shook the very ground under their feet.
With a wild yell in unison, the children fled screaming to the house. Mrs. Halford met them at the kitchen door white and worried. She had not dreamed they would hold out so long.
The piece of carpet was left to a watery fate under the bushes. The book dropped from Katy’s nerveless fingers unnoticed and forgotten till the next day, when Maggie picked it up limp and discolored near the kitchen door.
It took Mrs. Halford a full hour to dry and comfort the terrified trio. But once warmed and reassured Chicken Little and Katy promptly quarreled as to who deserted first.