“Chicken Little! Chick-en Lit-tle!”
The three little girls in the fence corner looked up but no one responded.
“Chicken Little Jane!” The voice was a trifle more insistent.
The little girl in the blue gingham dress and white frilled pinafore looked at her small hostess reproachfully.
“Why don’t you answer, Jane?”
“’Cause I’ll have to go in. She’ll think I don’t hear if I keep still.”
“Ja-ane!—I want you!” The voice was several notes higher and betrayed irritation.
“She’s getting mad,” said the little girl in the pink dress and white frilled pinafore—sister to the blue dress. “You’d better go—she’s leaning out the window and she’ll see us in a minute.” Katy Halford was facing the house and her facts agreed with what Jane Morton knew of her mother’s ways.