Chicken Little Jane - novelonlinefull.com
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Chicken Little looked down at Victoria's blue eyes and yellow curls appraisingly.
"Marian says she thinks Victoria is one of the prettiest dolls she's ever seen."
"She is pretty but I don't think her dress is near as pretty as Grace Dart's. Her doll's got the loveliest pink silk and a hat and parasol to match. It's a--what do you s'pose those boys are laughing at?"
Katy broke off her sentence to ask hastily, pointing across the street.
Two boys stood there chuckling, apparently staring straight at the little girls.
The three little girls stopped for an instant indignant.
"Oh, come on," said Chicken Little, "it's the Howard twins and they're awful mean. Just pretend we don't see them."
But the boys had started toward them.
The little girls had half a mind to run when one of the boys called: "Where did you get your bodyguard?"
They looked hastily behind them--there was no one in sight.
Katy was provoked.
"You think you're awful smart, don't you?" she called back.
The boys were shaking with laughter and were now half-way across the street. The larger one began chanting: "Mary had a little lamb," and the other added quickly: "His fleece was green as gra.s.s----"
The children stopped and looked around again. This time Gertie spied a small green body hovering close to Jane's white shoes.
"Poor Pete," it remarked plaintively.
"Why Pete--you naughty bird--how did you come to follow me? What can I do? Get down, Pete--you'll spoil my dress."
Pete was trying to climb Jane's skirts. He did not like the looks of the strange boys.
"Dear me, we'll have to take him back home," said Gertie.
"We'll take him for you. Can he talk?"
Before Chicken Little could reply something leaped into the midst of the little group and Pete gave a heart-rending squawk. The children jumped and screamed but before they fairly understood what had happened, Pete and a big gray cat were in mortal combat. Fur and feathers flew for several awful seconds accompanied by wails from the little girls and shouts from the boys who wanted to save the parrot but hated to spoil the fight.
The Howard boys made one or two ineffectual efforts to grab Pete getting nips and scratches for their pains. Chicken Little, terrified for Pete's life, tried to seize the cat and received a vicious scratch on the arm. The others pulled her away.
A crowd was quickly gathering. Rescue came opportunely in the shape of Pat Casey who had the good sense to arm himself with a stick. A few smart blows loosened the cat's grip and it slunk away. Pete, much disheveled and shorn of some of his gayest feathers, stood blinking dazedly for a minute. Then, catching sight of Chicken Little, he hopped feebly toward her, croaking hoa.r.s.ely: "Bust my b.u.t.tons."
The children set up a shout.
"I guess the cat pretty nearly did bust 'em," remarked Pat laughing.
Poor Pete was cuddled and fussed over to his heart's content. Pat offered to take him home for Chicken Little, and after much coaxing and scolding, Pete finally consented to hop on Pat's arm and permit himself to be carried homeward.
The little girls went on to the party pink with excitement. They could hardly wait to tell of Pete's adventure. Everybody wished they had brought the parrot with them. However, the doll contest soon absorbed their attention.
Chicken Little's Victoria proved a great favorite, but Grace Dart's Stella was beautiful to see in her rose pink silk. The children Oh-ed and Ah-ed over her hat and parasol.
Generous little Gertie worked hard for Victoria even going so far as to tell the children that Victoria was such a good doll--she most never cried. Katy was inclined to favor Stella. More than one little girl loyally voted for her own child. Others offered to vote for their friends' dolls if they in turn would vote for theirs.
The dolls were examined and compared most critically. Many of the little mothers took the matter very much to heart and resented any criticism.
Gertie picked her Minnie up and cuddled her tenderly after a thoughtless child had hurt dolly's feelings by exclaiming, "What a homely doll!"
Chicken Little's eyes shone as she saw the many admiring glances Victoria received. She naively showed her off, putting her to sleep and waking her up to display her blue eyes and long fringed lashes or making her cry "Mamma" when the other children asked to hold her. She looked at Stella a little enviously. It would be so nice to have Victoria get the prize. Jane had never had a prize except once in Sunday School for learning the most Scripture texts. May Halford was displaying the mysterious box wrapped in white paper that contained it and everyone was eager to know what it was.
Many were the guesses. Several children felt the box, but May kept the secret. Chicken Little looked at it longingly. It might be a hat and parasol like Stella's--it might be a silk dress. She wished she knew.
When the little white slips of paper were finally pa.s.sed around each little girl was asked to write the name of the doll she admired most and fold it up so no one could see. Jane looked sober. She was tempted to do something she felt would not be quite nice. She had firmly resolved to vote for Gertie's doll because Gertie had been so sweet about Victoria, but suppose Victoria needed just one more vote to get the prize. Chicken Little bit the end of her pencil and thought hard. She looked at Gertie holding Minnie close with a wistful look in her eyes. Gertie would be sorely disappointed if Minnie didn't get a single vote. Then she looked at Grace Dart, who was already putting on airs, and hardened her heart.
She moistened her pencil and wrote a big V, then paused and looked at Gertie again. Gertie was writing Victoria she could tell by the way she made the V. Jane closed her lips firmly.
"I guess I won't be mean if she doesn't get the prize," she said to herself.
She wrote Minnie very plainly, folded it up quickly and dropped it in the hat lest she should change her mind.
Stella got the prize by one vote. Chicken Little held her head high and had her reward. The little girls who had voted for Victoria crowded round her in wrath.
"She's ever so much prettier than Grace's doll! It's just her clothes made them vote for her."
"Yes, May's mother said your doll was the prettiest."
"I don't think it was fair to vote for the clothes. Mrs. Halford said the prettiest doll!"
These remarks were very consoling but did not comfort her as much as Gertie's words:
"I'm so sorry Vic didn't get it, Jane. If you hadn't voted for Minnie it would have been a tie."
"How do you know I voted for Minnie?" demanded Chicken Little.
"Oh, just 'cause and I'm real glad. I didn't expect Minnie to get it, but I'd felt awful bad if she hadn't had a single vote."
The prize proved to be a most tempting one, a tiny brush and comb and cunning hand gla.s.s in a little satin-lined box. Chicken Little sighed in spite of herself.
The arrival of the milkman created a diversion. Mr. Akers was a jolly soul and most of the children knew him. The jingle of his bell sent them all rushing to the gate to show their dolls. Mr. Akers greeted them heartily.
"Well, I declare this is about the gayest flock of birds I've seen for some time. A party? Well, I'm sorry I wasn't asked."
It took them some time to make him understand about the doll prize. He was called upon to inspect each doll first, then the two rivals were held up for his opinion.
Mr. Akers took his time. He took off his spectacles, polished them carefully on his sleeve, and made a second critical survey.
"You want me to tell you which is the purtiest, eh? Well, now they're both purty. I don't know as I ever saw handsomer dolls--or better behaved," he added, with a twinkle in his eye. "But if you really want my honest opinion I believe I like this one's face the best," pointing to Victoria, "though the other one there has a leetle the gayest clothes. The dressy one got the prize you say. Now it seems like they both ought to have a prize."
Mr. Akers fished a handful of coins out of his pocket and selecting a brand new dime which shone brightly among its dingier companions, presented it to Victoria with a flourish.