'll give you some apples and cookies if you'll let the little girls play," Alice interposed tactfully.
"Cricky, Alice, you're a brick!"
"Gee, Alice, wish you lived at our house!" Carol and Sherm exclaimed in unison.
Alice Fletcher, a sturdy, intelligent-looking girl of twenty, was pleased at the boy's praise. "Thanks, my lords!" she replied, waving a peeling at them.
"Oh, well, I don't care if the girls'll keep out of the way," conceded Carol.
"Gertie can be the wives and me and Jane will be the soldiers. Carol will need somebody to help him," said ambitious Katy.
The preliminaries were soon arranged. Timid Gertie was safely stowed away where she could hold to the chimney if a sudden panic seized her, and the boys graciously posted Jane and Katy on the battlements, otherwise known as the comb of the roof, to man the engines and spy out the landscape. They kicked off their shoes, the better to cling, and pranced around stocking-footed regardless of possible parental di
Nine-year-old "Chicken Little" Jane Morton (so nicknamed for no very notable reason), her older brother and their friends have routine, rather dull, childhood adventures in what's apparently downstate Illinois during the post-Civil War era. There's not much of interest for contemporary readers.