Publisher's Synopsis
"Edward can't come," said Margaret: "he'd get tired too soon and want to go home again.""No, Edward can't come," Frances agreed. "His legs are too short. We must wait till he goes upstairs for his nap, and then we'll start."There were three children in the family: Margaret, who was nearly eight; Frances, who was six and a quarter; and Edward, who, being only half way between three and four, was still-as Frances had sagely remarked-too short in the legs for such an enterprise as the two little girls had in mind.They had been spending the winter on the coast of Southern California, when, one morning in April, Margaret and Frances went out into the road in front of the house, and turning their backs to the sun, amused themselves by running after their shadows, trying to step on their own heads-a feat they had often attempted before, but never yet with any success.While they were thus occupied, their father, coming out of the house, stood on the edge of the sidewalk watching them, and when the two children, tousled and breathless, presently came back to him, he put an arm round the shoulders of each, saying: "What are you doing, Chicks? Chasing shadows?
