The prize proved to be a most tempting one, a tiny brush and comb and cunning hand glass in a little satin-lined box. Chicken Little sighed in spite of herself.
The arrival of the milkman created a diversion. Mr. Akers was a jolly soul and most of the children knew him. The jingle of his bell sent them all rushing to the gate to show their dolls. Mr. Akers greeted them heartily.
“Well, I declare this is about the gayest flock of birds I’ve seen for some time. A party? Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t asked.”
It took them some time to make him understand about the doll prize. He was called upon to inspect each doll first, then the two rivals were held up for his opinion.
Mr. Akers took his time. He took off his spectacles, polished them carefully on his sleeve, and made a second critical survey.
“You want me to tell you which is the purtiest, eh? Well, now they’re both purty. I don’t know as I ever saw handsomer dolls—or better behaved,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye. “But if you really want my honest opinion I believe I like this one’s face the best,” pointing to Victoria, “though the other one there has a leetle the gayest clothes. The dressy one got the prize you say. Now it seems like they both ought to have a prize.”
Mr. Akers fished a handful of coins out of his pocket and selecting a brand new dime which shone brightly among its dingier companions, presented it to Victoria with a flourish.
The children were delighted and Chicken Little started home comforted to tell the family that May’s mother and Mr. Akers thought Victoria was the prettiest anyway.
The walk home proved almost as disastrous as the walk to the party. The streets seemed entirely dry by this time and the three little girls, chattering gaily about their good time, forgot to notice where they were going.
Just before they turned into Front Street they passed a yard where men had been digging a well. A quantity of the yellow clay had been carelessly tossed over the fence upon the sidewalk to be hauled away. This, alas, had been thoroughly soaked by the previous night’s rain and when Chicken Little stepped upon it with her cherished white shoes, her small feet sank in up to her ankles. The white kid was sadly stained. Katy and Gertie did their best to help her get it off, but the white shoes were destined never to be white again. Mrs. Morton gave them a new lease of life by having them bronzed a few days later.