“All right, behold me with two satchels in one fist, mother’s tower of wax flowers hugged to my manly breast with the other hand, while I assist the ladies on the train, and clasp my friends’ fists in fond farewell with a third. But what of Chicken Little’s parrot?”
“I could carry Pete,” said Chicken Little.
“Not unless we left his cage behind, Chick, but don’t worry your head. We will find some way to get the family plunder on board.”
Jane was thoughtful for the remainder of the day. She took Pete over to Halford’s that afternoon and the children let him hop about from one room to another.
Gertie hovered over him a careful slave, but Katy enjoyed teasing him and made him ruffle up his feathers angrily a time or two.
Chicken Little rescued him, and cuddling him up on her shoulder, carried him tenderly home.
“No, I just couldn’t,” she said to herself. “I am sure he’d be homesick.”
