Just then, as if they had overheard the wish, two little boys came running down the hill, and one of them was barefooted. Moreover, when Kyzie asked if they would stand for a picture, they consented at once.
"My name's Joseph Rolfe," said the elder, twitching off his hat, "and his name,"—pointing to his companion with a chuckle,—"his name is Chicken Little."
"No such a thing! Now you quit!" retorted the younger lad in a choked voice, digging his toes into the dirt, "quit a-plaguing me! My name's Henry Small and you know it!"
While Edith was busy taking their photographs, Kyzie thanked the urchins very pleasantly. They both gazed at her with admiration.
"See here," said Joe Rolfe, twitching off his hat again very respectfully, "Are you going to keep school in the schoolhouse? I wish you would!"
At this remarkable speech Jimmy and Edith fell to laughing; but Kyzie only blushed a little, and smiled. How very grown-up she must seem to Joe if he could think of her as a teacher! She was now a tall girl of fourteen, with a fine strong face and an earnest manner. She was beginning to tire of being classed among little girls, and it was delightful to find herself looked upon for the first time in her life as a young lady. But she only said:—
"Oh, no, Joe, people don't teach school in summer! Summer is vacation."
"Well, but they do sometimes," persisted Joe; "there was a girl kep' this school last summer. She called it 'vacation school.' But we didn't like her; she licked like fury."
"So she did," echoed Chicken Little, "licked and pulled ears. Kep' a stick on the desk."
And with these last words both the little boys took their leave, running up hill with great speed, as if they thought that standing for a picture had been a great waste of time.