id at
Ernest's shrine and smiled.

"Yellow for me, please," put in Carol. "Yellow's so kind of
cheerful--like sunshine or gold--I always liked dandelions only they're
such a pest."

The little girls had been too happily full of their own plans to wonder
whether they would get any baskets in return. But they came back that
evening from the delightfully exciting task of hanging their fragrant
gifts to find that friends and playmates had been equally mindful of
them.

Katy had the most--seven. Jane and Gertie had each five. One of Jane's
was a marvellous creation so heavy that she promptly investigated what
lay beneath the flowers, finding a fat little box of candy hidden away.
Another was a crude little pasteboard affair fairly overflowing with
dainty spring beauties, and this, too, contained an offering in the
shape of a jolly little homemade whistle. Still another had scarlet
bows.

Katy wondered and wondered who sent her a similar basket with golden
yellow bows on each side of the handle.

"I'm sure I heard Ernest and Sherm outside our gate. I just know Ernest
gave me that," she confided to Gertie.

Gertie's biggest basket had blue bows and Gertie loved blue.

Marian never knew where the mates to the blue and yellow and red baskets
found a lodging place. She did not inquire. But when she saw Chicken
Little's candy she promptly exclaimed "Dick Harding!"

"I just know it was," replied Chicken Little.

CHAPTER XV

THUNDER AND GOOSEBERRY BUSHES

May seemed to have traded places with April that year for it was a month
of many showers. Poor Marian got tired of watching the pelting rain and
Mrs. Morton complained that it was simply impossible to clean house as
the sunniest day was liable to end in a downpour.

Dr. Morton's letters from the west full of glowing accounts of the
sunshine in Kansas and Colorado seemed almost irritating in their
contrast. Alice, too, wrote of lovely spring weather, declaring it had
been almost hot some days.

The children did not mind the rain--they merely objected to being shut
in on account of it. Chicken Little told Dick a long tale of woe one
evening when he came up to inquire about Marian and get the latest news
of Alice.

"Fine weather for ducks and frogs, Chicken Little. Just try standing in
the edge of a puddle--saying croak, croak and see if you don't like it.
I'll have to give you a few swimming lessons," he consoled her
teasingly.

"Don't put any such nonse