“You must write to us the very first ones, Jane,” Katy demanded.
“I see you young ones are fixing to break me up buying postage stamps,” remonstrated Dr. Morton, trying to tease them.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Morton about an hour after breakfast, “has anyone fed Pete. I entirely forgot him last night and this morning. How could I be so careless?”
“Sure enough, where is Pete?” asked the doctor.
“He—he isn’t here,” replied Chicken Little. “I gave him away.”
“That was nice—Katy and Gertie will take good care of him I know.”
“I didn’t give him to Katy and Gertie.”
“Why—who?” Mrs. Morton looked puzzled.
“I gave him to Pat—when he came for the things.”
“Well, I declare,” ejaculated Mrs. Morton. “You certainly are the queerest child! Well, I suppose if you wanted to give your pet to a little Irish boy instead of to your best friends it’s all right.”