Chicken Little scarcely saw her mother for the next three weeks. Mrs. Morton seemed to be always shopping or calling or doing something so important that she could not be interrupted. She held long conferences with Dr. Morton and Frank. On these occasions Chicken Little was sure to be sent out of the room, and the child began to wonder what was going on. She consoled herself by talking it over with Alice.
“What do you suppose they’re all fussing about, Alice?”
Alice smiled.
“Secrets, of course.”
“Do you know, Alice?”
“A little.”
“Please tell me.”
“I can’t, but your mother will pretty soon. It’s something very nice and exciting, and you’re going to be in it.”
“Oh, Alice, I just can’t wait! Pretty please tell me.”