t mind your making them or hanging them--I think it is a charming
custom--but I really don't see where you can get the flowers."

"Mother's got some geraniums in bloom. I think she'd let us have them,"
suggested Chicken Little.

"And maybe there'll be some plum blossoms out--it's three whole days
till May Day and you can see the white on the buds." Gertie was always
hopeful.

"Well, get your baskets ready and we'll do the best we can to find the
flowers. We can take some green from the house plants to help fill
up--my oxalis is blooming nicely--that will be pretty to mix in."

"I'm glad it comes Saturday. I wish we could go to the Duck Creek woods
to hunt for wild flowers--I just know I could find some." Katy looked
out the window longingly.

"Wait and see. Perhaps you can," Mrs. Halford answered. "But you'd
better be getting your materials and start your baskets. What colors do
you want?"

"I'm going to have mine all red and white--they're so nice and bright,"
Katy spoke up promptly.

Gertie decided on green and white and Chicken Little selected pink and
blue.

They bought their materials that evening after school and started the
dainty weaving at Katy's house. It was pretty, bright work and a good
deal of a novelty to the children for a kindergarten had only recently
been established in the town.

Katy did all the cutting of the strips of shiny paper. She had a truer
eye and nimbler fingers than either of the others. But they were expert
at weaving the gay-colored strips in and out, and the three finished six
baskets the first evening. Mrs. Halford gave them each a box so they
could keep their materials and completed baskets in good order.

"How many are you going to hang, Katy?"

"Six, but you needn't ask where for I sha'n't tell."

"I didn't hear anyone ask you, Katy," retorted Mrs. Halford slyly.

"I know two of the places anyway," added Gertie.

"I guess I know three," Chicken Little had been thinking.

"I bet you don't--where?"

"Oh, Katy, ladies don't bet," interrupted Mrs. Halford reprovingly.

"I just forgot, Mumsey, but all the girls most, say it--you're so very
particular."

"You'll be glad I am some day, I hope."

"Maybe, but I--I'm not just now. And anyhow Jane doesn't know where I'm
going to hang my baskets."

"I do too, but I'm not going to tell."

"You don't either--you're 'fraid to tell 'cause you don't!"

Katy was crowding the truth pretty close. Chicken Little started to