like her; she licked like fury."

"So she did," echoed Chicken Little, "licked and pulled ears. Kep' a
stick on the desk."

And with these last words both the little boys took their leave, running
up hill with great speed, as if they thought that standing for a picture
had been a great waste of time.

"That Chicken boy is the biggest cry-baby," said Nate. "The boys like to
plague him to see him cry. Joe Rolfe has some sense."

As the little party walked on, Miss Katharine turned her head more than
once for another look at the schoolhouse.

"Wouldn't it be fun, Edy, to teach school in there and ring that
'lin-lan-lone bell' to call in the scholars? I'd make you study botany
harder'n you ever did before."

"No, thank you, Miss Dunlee," replied Edith, courtesying. "You'll not
get me to worrying over botany. I studied it a month once, but when I go
up in the mountains I go to have a good time."

She pursed her pretty mouth as she spoke. Her sister Katharine was by
far the best botanist in her class, and was always tearing up flowers in
the most wasteful manner. Worse than that, she expected Edith to do the
same thing and learn the hard names of the poor little withered pieces.

"You don't love flowers as well as I do, Kyzie, or you couldn't abuse
them so!"