"There now," said Marian, "he'll never trust you again." Marian raced Chicken Little with the cherry picking and the pails were filled far too soon.
"Jane," said Marian as she started reluctantly back to the house, "if Mother Morton can spare you this morning to help me pick them, I believe I'll get some cherries to put up--there are loads ripe this morning."
"I'd love to, Marian, I'll take these in and find out if she'll let me."
She came flying back in a jiffy with two big milk pails. "All right, Mother says I may help you till noon."
They had a merry morning. The cherry trees lined the lane which was also a public road, and several neighbors going by, stopped to exchange a few words. Mr. Benton had his joke, for he discovered Jane swinging up in the topmost boughs and reaching still higher for certain unusually luscious ones that eluded her covetous fingers.
"Well, Mrs. Morton," he said, addressing Marian and ignoring Chicken Little, "that's the largest variety of robin I've ever seen in these parts. I 'low you must have brought the seed from the east with you. You wouldn't mind if I took a shot at it, I 'spose. 'Pears like birds of that size must be mighty destructive to cherries."
"Why Mr. Benton, we shouldn't like to have you kill our birds; we're attached to them. But you are mistaken, that isn't a robin, it's a Jane bird--they're rare around here."
Mr. Benton laughed and Chicken Little got even by hurling a big cluster of cherries at him. She aimed them at his lap, but they struck him full in the face to her great glee.
"Well now, them Jane birds ain't so bad." Mr. Benton remarked eating the fruit with a relish.
The morning sped by briskly. Jilly created a diversion by getting her small self into trouble. Marian noticed that she was picking something off the tree trunk and putting it into the pocket of her little ruffled apron.
"What's Jilly getting there? Can you see, Chicken Little?"
Chicken Little twisted and peered until she could take a good look.
"Why--Marian, I do believe it's ants! The silly baby--they'll bite her!"
Marian hurried down the tree to rescue her offspring, but not before Jilly set up a wail of anguish.
"Naughty sings bite Jilly!" she moaned, as her Mother picked the small tormentors off her arms and bare legs. But Jilly was a sunny child, and as soon as the pain eased, found a smile and remarked complacently: "Ants bite Jilly, too bad, too bad!"