he fun.

"Here, Chicken Little, you need practice," and "Chicken Little acts as
if she didn't know what kisses were. You'll have to have a rehearsal
beforehand next time, Grant!" "Why, Grant? What's the matter with the
rest of us?" These comments were open and noisy.

Ernest took all this coarse bantering at his young sister's expense
good-naturedly. He knew no offence was intended. He had been present at
a number of these rural frolics. But Sherm, town-bred and unaccustomed
to this form of amusement, was distinctly displeased both at the kiss
and the talk. He got Chicken Little off to one side as soon as he could.

"Say, Chicken Little, don't let the boys kiss you."

Chicken Little looked concerned. "I don't like them to, Sherm, but I
can't help it if I play--and they'd think I was awfully stuck up and
rude if I refused."

"Does your mother know they have this sort of games?"

Chicken Little made a little grimace. "Don't go and be grown-up and
horrid, Sherm. Everybody does it here. They'll stop this pretty soon and
play clap in and clap out or forfeits."

Her big brown eyes were lifted so innocently and sweetly that Sherm
couldn't say any more, but he felt a curious desire to fight every time
a big boy so much as stared at Jane.

"She's such a kid!" he explained the feeling to himself, "and Ernest
isn't looking after her at all."

Katy entered into the romping heart and soul. Katy was playing young
lady. Her pink cheeks and laughing eyes and little flirtatious ways were
very popular with the boys--so popular that Mamie was vexed because many
of her mates seemed to have eyes only for the city girl, as she called
her behind her back.

Mamie eased her mind by treating her special friends haughtily. She got
even with the recreant Grant by choosing Ernest the very first time in
Post Office. She even put some of the girls up to boycotting the boys
who were hanging round Katy, for one entire game, persuading them to
choose Ernest and Sherm alternately till the others were jealously
wrathful without being quite sure whether it was accident or conspiracy.
Considering his scruples about kissing, Sherm submitted most meekly. He
had the grace to color when Chicken Little remarked carelessly: "It
wasn't so bad as you thought it would be, was it, Sherm?"

"Oh, it's different with boys," he retorted loftily. "Little girls like
you don't understand."

"Little girls! I suppose you think yourself a man grown. You needn't