 CHAPTER ONE OF FRECKLES This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by John Murray Roop. FRECKLES by Gene Stratton Porter. CHAPTER ONE Wearing great risks are taken, and the Limberlost Guard is hired. Freckles came down the corduroy that crosses the lower end of the Limberlost. For a glance, he might have been mistaken for a tramp, but he was truly seeking work. He was intensely eager to belong somewhere and to be attached to almost any enterprise that would furnish him food and clothing. While before he came inside of the camp of the Grand Rapids Lumber Company, he could hear the cheery voices of the men, the name of the horses, and could scent the tempting odors of cooking food. A feeling of homeless friendlessness swept over him in a sickening wave. Without stopping to think, he turned into the newly-made road and followed it to the camp where the gang was making ready for supper and bed. The seam was intensely attractive. The thickness of the swamp made a dark, massive background below, while above towering gigantic trees. The men were calling jovially back and forth as they unharnessed tired horses that fell into attitudes of rest and rushed in deep content, the grain giving them. Duncan brought a scotch-head teamster, lovingly wiped the flanks of his big bays with enfolds of paw-paw leaves. As he softly whistled, "'O what will be, my dear yo?' And a crooked beneath the leaves of his feet accompanied him. The greenwood fire hissed and crackled merrily, breathing tongues of flame wrapped around the big black kettles. And when the cook lifted the lids to plunge in his testing fork, goss of savory odors escaped. Freckles approached him. "'I want to speak with the boss,' he said. The cook glanced at him and answered carelessly. "'He can't use you.' The color flooded Freckles' face, but he said simply, "'If you'd be having the goodness to point him out, we'll give him a chance to do his own talking.' With a shrug of astonishment, the cook led the way to a rough-board table where a broad, square-shouldered man was bending over some account books. "'Mr. McClain, here's another man wanting to be taking on the gang, I suppose,' he said. "'All right,' came the cheery answer. "'I'd never needed a good bond more than I do just now.' The manager turned to page and carefully began a new line. "'No use your bottom with this fellow,' volunteered the cook. "'He hasn't but one hand.' The flesh on Freckles' face burned deeper. His lips thinned to a mere line. He lifted his shoulders, took a step forward, thrust out his right arm from which the sleeve dangled empty at the wrist. "'That'll do his shiz,' came the voice of the boss sharply. "'I will end that of you, my man, when I finish this with powder.' He turned to his work while the cook hurried to the fires. Freckles stood one instant as he had braced himself to meet the eyes of the manager. His arm dropped and a wave of whiteness swept him. The boss had not even turned his head. He had used the possessive when he said, "'My man,' the hungry heart of Freckles went reaching toward him. The boy drew a quivering breath. Then he whipped off his old hat and beat the dust from it carefully. With his left hand he caught the right sleeve, wiped his sweaty face, and tried to straighten his hair with his fingers. He broke a spray of iron work beside him and used the purple bloom to beat the dust from his shoulders and limbs. The boss, busy over his report, was nevertheless vaguely alive to the toilet being made behind him and scored one for the man. McLean was a Scotsman. It was his habit to work slowly and methodically. The men of his camps had never known him to be in a hurry or to lose his temper. Discipline was inflexible. But the boss was always kind. His habits were simple. He shared camp life with his gangs. The only visible signs of wealth consisted of a big shimmering diamond stowed of ice and fire that glittered and burned on one of his fingers in a dainty, beautiful, thoroughbred mare he rode between camps and across the country on business. No man of McLean's gangs could honestly say that he'd ever been overdriven or underpaid. The boss had never exacted any deference from his men. That's so intense was his personality that no man of them ever had attempted a familiarity. They all knew him to be a thorough gentleman and that in the great timber city several millions stood to his credit. He was the only son of that McLean who had sent out the finest ships ever built in Scotland that his son should carry on his business after his father's death had been his ambition. He had sent the boy through the universities of Oxford and Edinburgh and allowed him several years' travel before he should attempt his first commission for the firm. Then he was ordered to Southern Canada and Michigan to purchase a consignment of all straight timber from Mass and South Indiana for oak beams. The young man entered these mighty forests, parts of which lay untouched since the dawn of the morning of time. The clear, cool, pungent atmosphere was intoxicating. The intense silence, like that of a great empty cathedral, fascinated him. He gradually learned that to the shy wood creatures that darted across his path or peeped inquirily from leafy ambush he was a brother. He found himself approaching with a feeling of reverence those majestic trees that had stood through ages of sun, wind and snow. Soon it became difficult to fell them. When he had filled his order and returned home he was amazed to learn that in the swamps and forests he had lost his heart and it was forever calling him. When he inherited his father's property he promptly disposed of it and with his mother founded a home in a splendid residence in the outskirts of Grand Rapids. With three partners he organized a lumber company. His work was to purchase, fell and ship the timber to the mills. Marshall managed the milling process and passed the lumber to the factory. From the lumber Barthol made beautiful and useful furniture which up to Grove scattered all over the world from a big wholesale house. Of the thousands who saw their faces reflected in the polished surfaces of that furniture and found comfort in its use few were to whom it suggested mighty forests and trackless swamps and the man big of soul and body who cut his way through them and with the eye of experience doomed the proud trees and were now entering the homes of civilization for service. When the claim turned from his finished report he faced a young man, yet under twenty, tall, spare heavily framed, closely freckled and red-haired with a homely Irish face but in the steady gray eyes straightly meeting his searching ones of blue there was unswerving candor and the appearance of longing had to be ignored. He was dressed in the roughest of farm clothing and seemed tired to the point of falling. He had a look at the wetter question reclaimed. Yes, answered Freckles. I'm very sorry, said the boss with genuine sympathy in his very town but there's only one man I would have present a hearty, big fellow with stout heart and a strong body. I hoped that you would do but I'm afraid you're too young and scarcely strong enough. Freckles stood, had in hand watching McLean. What was it you thought I might be doing? The boss could scarcely repress a start somewhere before accident and poverty there had been an ancestor who used cultivated English and even with an accent the boy spoke with a mellow Irish voice sweet and pure. It was scarcely definite enough to be called a brogue yet there was a trick in the turning of the sentence the wrong sound of a letter here and there was almost irresistible to McLean and presaged a misuse of infinities and possessives with which he was very familiar which touched him nearly. He was a foreign berth and despite years of alienation in times of strong feeling he committed inherited sins of accent and construction. It's not child's job, answered McLean. I'm the field manager of a big lumber company we've just leased 2,000 acres of limberlost. Many of these todays are of great value we cannot leave our carp 6 miles south for almost a year yet so we'll have a blazer to nail and strong barbed wires securely around this lease before we return to our work we must put this property in the hands of a reliable, brave, strong man who will guard it every hour of the day and sleep with an eye open at night I shall require the entire length of the trail to be walked at least twice each day to make sure our lines are up and that none has been trespassing Freckles was leading forward absorbing every word with such intense eagerness that he was beguiling the boss into explanations he had never intended making but why wouldn't that be the finest job in the world for me if I was ever sick I could walk the trail twice three times every day and I'd be watching shop all the way in it's because you're scarcely more than a boy and this will be a trying job for a workaholic man you see, in the first place you would be afraid the stretching our lines we killed six rattlesnakes almost as long as your body and as thick as your arm it's the price of your life to start with a marsh glass surrounding the swamp unless you are covered with heavy leather above your knees you should be able to swim in case a water undermines the temporary bridge we have built where sleepy snake creek enters the swamp the fall and winter changes the weather or abrupt and severe what I would want strict watch kept every day you would always be alone and I don't guarantee what is in the limberlost it is lineier as it is laying since the beginning of time and it is alive with forms and voices I don't pretend to say where all of them come from but from a few slinking shoves I've seen and air-raising yells I've heard I'd rather not confront the owners myself and I'm neither weak nor fearful worst of all any man who will enter the swamp to mark and steal timber is desperate one of my employees at the South Comp John Carter compelled me to discharge him for a number of serious reasons he came here entered the swamp alone and succeeded in locating and marking a number of valuable trees he was endeavoring to sell to a rival company when he secured the lease he is sworn to have these trees if he has to die or kill others to get them and he is a man that the strongest would not care to meet but if he came to steal trees wouldn't he bring teams and men enough that all anyone could do would be to watch and be after you queried the boy yes replied McLean then why couldn't I be watching just as closely and coming as fast as an old strongman asked Freckles well, better George you could exclaimed McLean I don't know as the size of a man would be half so important as his grit and faithfulness come to think of it sit on that log there and we'll talk it over what is your name? Freckles shook his head at the proffer of a seat folding his arms stood straight as the trees behind him he grew a shade wider but his eyes never faltered Freckles he said good enough for every day laughed McLean but a scarcely can put Freckles on the company's books tell me your name I haven't had a name replied the boy I don't understand said McLean I was thinking from the voice in the face here that you wouldn't said Freckles slowly I've spent more time on it than I ever did on anything else in all my life than I don't understand does it seem to you that anyone would take a newborn baby and row over it until it was bruised black cut off its hand and leave it out on a bitter night on the steps of a chariot to the care of strangers that's what somebody did to me McLean stared aghast he had no reply ready and presently in a low voice he suggested and after the old people took me in I was there the old legal age and several years over for the most part we were a lot of little they could always find omens for the other children but nobody would ever be wanting me on economy arm where are they kind to ya McLean regretted the question the minute it was asked I don't know the reply sounded so hopeless even to his own ears that he hastened to qualify it by adding you see it's like this sir kindnesses that people are paid to lay off in jaw blots that belong equally to several hundred others I ain't going to be soaking up in any one fellow so much go on said McLean dotting comprehensively there's nothing worth taking if you're time to tell the home was in Chicago and I was there all my life until three months ago when I was too old for the training they gave me to the little children they sent me to the closest water school as long as the law would let them but I was never like any of the other children and they all knew it I had to go and come like a prisoner working around the womb early and late for me, bored in clothes I always wanted to learn mighty bad but I was glad when that was over every few days of my life I had to be called up and looked over and refused a home in love on account of me and an ugly face but it was all the home I'd ever known it didn't seem to belong anyplace else then a new superintendent was put in he wasn't for being like any of the others he'd be out the first thing he did he made a plan to send me to the state to a man he'd said he knew and needed a boy he wasn't for remembering to tell that man that I was an un-short then he knocked me down the minute he found I was the boy who had been sent to him between noon and that evening he and his son close my age and had me pretty much the same shape in which I was found in the beginning so I lay awake that night and right away I'd like to have squared me account with that boy before I left but I didn't dare or fear of waking the old man and I couldn't handle the two of them but I'm open to meet him alone some day before I die McClain tugged at his mustache to hide his smile on his lips but he liked the boy all the better for his confession or he didn't even have to steal clothes to get rid of starting in me home when freckles continued for they'd already taken all McLean neat things for the boy and put me into his rugs and that went almost as sour as the beatings for where I was we were always kept tidy and sweet smelling anyway, I hustled clear into this state before I learned that the man couldn't have kept me if he'd wanted to what I thought, I was good and away from him I commited studying work but it was with everybody else just as it is with you sir big, strong, all men are the only ones for being wanted I've been studying over there to smarter, answered McClain I'm not so sure but that a man no older than you and similar in every way could do this work very well if he were not a coward and had it in him to be trustworthy and industrious freckles came forward a step if you would give me a job where I can earn me food, clothes and a place to sleep, he said before I can have a boss to work for like other men and a place I feel of a right to me or die trying he spoke so conventionally that McClain believed although in his heart he knew that to employ a stranger would be a wretched business for a man with the interests he had involved very well the boss found himself answering I'll enter you in my payrolls we'll have supper and then I'll provide you with clean clothing wedding boots, the wider mendian apparatus and a revolver the better thing in the morning I will take you the length of the trail myself and explain fully what I want done all I ask of you is to come to me at once at the south camp and tell me as a man if you find this job too hard for you it will not surprise me it is work that few men would perform faithfully what name shall I put down freckles gays never left McClain's face and the boss with spasm of pain that swept his lonely sensitive features I have an 89 he said stubbornly no more than once somebody clapped on me when they put me in the own books with not the thought of care they'd name a house cut I've seen how they enter those poor little abandoned devils often enough to know what they call me is no more my name than it is yours I don't know what mine is and I never will put them on and do your work and I'll be glad to answer to any name you choose to call me won't you please be giving me a name Mr. McClain the boss wheeled abruptly and began stacking his books what he was thinking was probably what any other gentleman would have thought in the circumstances with his eyes still downcast and then a voice harsh with huskiness he spoke and I tell you it will do my lad my father was my deal man and I loved him better than any other I've ever known he went out five years ago but that he would have been proud to leave you his name I firmly believe if I give you the name of my nearest kin and the man I loved best would that do freckles rigid attitude relaxed suddenly his head dropped on the soiled calico shirt McClain was not surprised at the silence for he found that talking came none too easily just then all right he said all right it on the road James Ross McClain thank you mildly said freckles that makes me feel almost as if I belonged already you do said McClain until someone armed everybody with a right comes to claim you you are mine now come take a bath have some supper and go to bed as freckles followed into the lights and sounds of the camp his heart and soul were singing for joy end of chapter one chapter two of freckles this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by John Murray Roup freckles by Gene Stratton Porter chapter two wherein freckles proves his metal and finds friends next morning found freckles in clean whole clothing fed and rested and McClain outfitted him gave him careful instruction in the use of his weapon the boss showed him around the timber line and engaged him a place to board with the family of his head teamster Duncan whom he had brought from Scotland with him and who lived in a small clearing he was working out between the swamp and the corteroi when the gang was started for the south camp freckles was left to guard a fortune in the limberlost that he was under guard himself those first weeks he never knew each hour was torture to the boy the restricted life of a great city orphanage was the other extreme of the world compared with the limberlost he was afraid for his life every minute the heat was intense the heavy weighting boots rubbed his feet until they bled he was sore and stiff from his long tramp and outdoor exposure the seven miles of trail was agony at every step he practiced at night under the direction of Duncan until he grew sure in the use of his revolver he cut a stout hickory cudgel with a knot on the end as big as his fist this never left his hand what he thought in those first days he himself could not clearly recall afterward his heart stood still every time he saw the beautiful marsh grass begin a sinuous waving against the play of the wind as McLean had told him it would he bolted half a mile with the first boom of the bittern and his hat lifted with every yelp of the shitebok once he saw a lean, shadowy form following him and fired his revolver then he was frightened worse than ever for fear it might have been Duncan's colleague the first afternoon that he found his wires down and he was compelled to plunge a knee deep into the black swamp muck to restring them he became so ill from fear and nervousness that he scarcely could control his shaking hand to do the work with every step he felt that he would miss secure footing and be swallowed in that clinging sea of blackness in dumb agony he plunged forward clinging to the posts and trees until he had finished restringing and testing the wire he had consumed much time night closed in the limberloss stirred gently then shook herself growled and woke around him there seemed to be a great owl hooting from every hollow tree and a little one screeching from every knot hole the bellowing of big bullfrogs were not sufficiently deafening to shut out the wailing of weberwills that seemed to come from every bush night hawks swept past him with their shivering cry and bats struck his face a prowling wildcat misted his catch and screamed at rage a strained fox baited incessantly for its mate the hair on the back of freckles neck arose as bristles wavered beneath him he could not see whether the dreaded snakes were on the trail or in the pandemonium hear the rattle for which becleaned cautioned him to listen he stood motionless in an agony of fear his breath whistled between his teeth the perspiration ran down his face and body in little streams something big black and heavy came crashing through the swamp close to him and with the yell of utter panic freckles ran how far he did not know but at last he gained control over himself and retraced his steps his jaws set stiffly and the sweat dried on his body when he reached the place from which he had started to run he turned and with measured steps made his way down the line after a time he realized that he was only walking so he faced that sea of horrors again when he came toward the corduroy the cudgel fell to test the wire at each step sounds thick curdled his blood seemed to encompass him shapes of tear to draw closer and closer fear had so gained the mastery that he did not dare look behind him and just when he felt that he would fall dead before he ever reached the clearing came Duncan's rolling call freckles, freckles a shattering stob burst in the boy's dry throat but he only told Duncan that finding the wire down had caused a delay the next morning he started on time day after day with his heart pounding he ducked, dodged, ran when he could and fought when he was brought to bay if he ever had an idea of giving up no one knew it for he clung to his job without the shadow of wavering all these things insofar as he guessed them Duncan who had been set to watch the first weeks of freckles work carried to the boss at the south camp but the innermost exquisite torture of the thing the big scotchman never guessed and McLean with his finer perceptions came only a little closer after a few weeks when freckles learned he was still living that he had a home and the very first money he had ever possessed was safe in his pockets he began to grow proud he yet sidestep, dodged and hurried to avoid being late again but he was gradually developing the fearlessness that men ever acquire of dangers to which they are hourly accustomed his heart seemed to be leaping when his first rattler disputed the trail with him but he mustered courage to attack it with his club after his head had been crushed he mastered an Irishman's inborn repugnance for snakes sufficiently to cut off its rattles to show Duncan with this victory his greatest fear of them was gone then he began to realize that with the abundance of food in the swamp flesh-hunters would not come on the trail and attack him and he had his revolver for defense if they did he soon learned to laugh at the big floppy birds that made horrible noises one day watching behind a tree he saw a crane solemnly performing a few measures of a belated nuptial song and dance with his mate realizing that it was intended in tenderness no matter how it appeared the lonely starved heart of the boy sympathized with him before the first month passed he was fairly easy about his job by the next he rather liked it nature can be trusted to work her own miracle in the heart of any man whose daily task keeps him alone among her sights sounds and silences when day after day the only thing that relieved his utter loneliness was the companionship of the birds and beasts of the swamp it was the most natural thing in the world that freckles should turn to them for friendship he began by instinctively protecting the weak and helpless he was astonished at the quickness with which they became accustomed to him in the disregard they showed for his movements when they learned that he was not a hunter while the club he carried was used more frequently for their benefit than his own he scarcely could believe what he saw from the effort to protect the birds and animals it was only a short step to the possessive feeling and with that spring the impulse to caress and provide through fall when brooding was finished and the upland birds sought to swamp in swarms to feast on its seeds and berries freckles was content with watching them and speculating about them outside of half a dozen of the very commonest they were strangers to him the likeness of their actions to humanity was an hourly surprise when black frost began stripping the limberlost cutting the ferns shearing the vines from the trees mowing the succulent green things of the swale and setting the leaves swirling down he watched the departing troops of his friends with dismay he began to realize that he would be left alone he made a special effort toward friendliness with the hope that he could induce some of them to stay it was then that he conceived the idea of carrying food to the birds for he saw that they were leaving for lack of it but he could not stop them day after day flocks gathered and departed by the time the first snow whitened his trail around the limberlost there was left only the little black and white juncles, sap-suckers yellow hammers and patriarchs among the flaming cardinals the blue jays, the crows and the quail then freckles began his wizard work he cleared a space of swale and twice a day he spread a burge banquet by the middle of December the strong winds of winter had beaten most of the seed from the grass and bushes the snow fell covering the swamp and food was very scarce and difficult to find the birds scarcely waited until freckles back was turned to attack his provisions in a few weeks they flew toward the clearing to meet him during the bitter weather of January they came halfway to the cabin every morning and flooded around him as doves all the way to the feeding ground before February they were so accustomed to him and so hunger driven that they would perch on his head and shoulders and the saucy jays would try to pry into his pockets then freckles added to wheat and crumbs every scrap of refuse food he could find at the cabin he carried to his pets the pairings of apples turnips, potatoes stray cabbage leaves and carrots and tied to the bush's meat bones having scraps of fat and gressel one morning coming to his feeding ground unusually early he found a gorgeous cardinal and a rabbit side by side sociably nibbling a cabbage leaf and that instantly gave him the idea of cracking nuts from the story he had gathered for Duncan's children for the squirrels and the effort to add them to his family soon he had them coming red, grey and black then he became filled with the vast impatience that he did not know their names or habits so the winter passed every week McLean rode to the Limberlost never on the same day or the same hour always he found freckles at his work faithful and brave no matter how severe the weather the boys' earnings constituted his first money and when the boss explained to him that he could leave them safe at a bank and carry away a scrap of paper that represented the amount he went straight on every payday and made his deposit keeping out barely what was necessary for his board and clothing what he wanted to do with his money he did not know but it gave him a sense of freedom and power to feel that it was there it was his and he could have it when he chose an imitation of McLean he bought a small pocket account book in which he carefully set down every dollar he earned and every penny he spent as his expenses were small and the boss paid him generously it was astonishing how his little whore grew that winter held the first hours of real happiness in freckles life he was free he was doing a man's work faithfully through every rigor of rain snow and blizzard he was gathering a wonderful strength of body paying his way and saving money every man of the gang and of that locality knew that he was under the protection of McLean who was a power this had the effect of smoothing freckles path in many directions Mrs. Duncan showed him that individual kindness when his hungry heart was longing she had a hot drink ready for him when he came from a freezing day on the trail she knit him a heavy mitten for his left hand and devised a way to sew and pad the right sleeve that protected the main dorm in bitter weather she patched his clothing frequently torn by the wire and saved kitchen scraps for his birds not because she either knew or cared anything about them but because she herself was close enough to the swamp to be touched by its utter loneliness when Duncan laughed at her for this she retorted my good money if freckles under the beds and the bees he would be always alone he was never meant for a human being to be so solitary he'd get touched in the head if he hadn't had them to think for or to talk to how much ansatter do you think he gets to his talking less? laughed Duncan he gets the ansatter that keeps the eye bright and heart happy and the feet walking faithful the rough path he set them in entered Mrs. Duncan earnestly Duncan walked away appearing very thoughtful the next morning he gave an ear from the corn he was shelling for his chickens to freckles and told him to carry it to his wild chickens in the limberlost freckles laughed delightedly my chickens he said why didn't I ever think of that before of course they are they're just little brightly colored cocks in the ends the wild is no good what would you say to me wild chickens being a good deal tamer than yours here in your yard what lod cried Duncan make yours light of your head and ear out of your hands and pockets challenge freckles go and tell your fairy tales to the wee people they just brash on but even things said Duncan they didn't invent any story too big to stop them from calling for bigger I dare you to come see retorted freckles take you said Duncan if you make just one bud light on your head or eat from your hand you're free to help yourself to my corn crib and wheat bin the rest of the winter freckles sprang in the air and held in glee oh Duncan oh lazy he cried when were you come he'll come next sabbath said Duncan and I'll believe the birds of the limit lost a time as born you had filed when I see it and no sooner after that freckles always spoke with the birds as his chickens and the Duncan's followed this example the very next sabbath Duncan with his wife and children followed freckles to the swamp they saw a sight so wonderful all the remainder of their lives and make them unfailing friends of all the birds freckles chickens were awaiting him at the edge of the clearing they cut the frosty air around his head into curves and circles of crimson blue and black they chased each other from freckles and swept so closely themselves that they brushed him with their outspread wings at their feeding ground freckles set down his old pail of scraps and swept the snow from a small level space improvised of twigs as soon as his back was turned the birds clustered over the food stashing scraps to carry to the nearest bushes several of the boldest a big crow and a couple of jays settled on the rim and feasted at leisure while a cardinal that hesitated to venture fumed and scolded from a twig overhead then freckles scattered his store at once the ground resembled the spread mantle of Montezuma except that this mass of gaily colored feathers was on the backs of living birds while they feasted Duncan gripped his wife's arm and stared at his astonishment for from the bushes and dry grass with general cheaping and queer throaty chatter as if to encourage each other came flocks of quail before anyone saw it arrive a big gray rabbit sat in the midst of the feast contentedly gnawing a cabbage leaf would I be doodon the same as his Duncan's tense whisper shoo shoo caution Duncan lastly freckles removed his cap he began filling it with handfuls of wheat from his pockets in a swarm the grain eaters arose around him as a flock of tame pigeons they perched on his arms in the cap and in the stress of hunger forgetting all caution a brilliant cock cardinal in an equally gaudy jay fought for a perching place on his head will I'm beat mother Duncan forgetting the silence imposed on his wife I left to give in seen as believing a man would have to see that to believe it we want to tell the boss in his set sight for it's a chance will no likely come twice in a life everything is snowed under and these creatures nearly starved but trust him freckles that complete they are tamer and arch chickens look harder to bear he whispered you want to see the like of yawn again well God lives, you live notice the color against the ice and snow and the pretty skipping ways of them and spunky freckles emptied his cap turned his pockets and scattered his last grain then he waved his watching friends goodbye and started down the timber line a week later Duncan and freckles arose from breakfast to face the bitterest morning of the winter and freckles warmly capped and gloved, stepped to the quarter of the kitchen for a scrap pail he found a big pan of steaming boiled weed on the top of it he wailed to Mrs. Duncan with a shining face were you fixing this warm food for meat chickens or yours? he asked it's for yours freckles she said I was afraid of this cold weather I'd lay good with the warm baited snow and then Duncan laughed as he stepped into the other room for his pipe but freckles faced Mrs. Duncan with a trace of every pang of starved mother hunger he had ever suffered written large on his homely splotched narrow features oh how you wish you were to be mother he cried Mrs. Duncan attempted an echo of her husband's laugh love the lad wife freckles are you no bright enough to learn without being taught by a woman that I am your mother if a great man like yourself did a kid that learn it now and never forget it once a woman is the wife of any man she becomes wife to other men for having had the wifely experience she can't once a man child is beaten his way to life under the order of a woman his mother to other men for the hearts of mothers are everywhere the same bless ye laddie I am your mother she tucked the coarse scarf she had knit for him closer over his chest and pulled his cap lower over his ears but freckles whoopied it off and holded under his arm caught her rough reddened hand and pressed it to his lips in a long kiss then he hurried away to hide the happy embarrassing tears that were coming straight from his swelling heart mrs. Duncan saw me to unrestrainedly swept into the adjoining room and threw herself into Duncan's arms oh the poor lad she wailed oh the poor mother hungry lad he breaks my heart Duncan's arms closed convulsively around his wife with a big brown hand he lovingly stroked her rough sore hair said ah woman he said you have met a good woman you have a way of speaking out of times that's like the inspired prophets of the lord that had been to me now I'd felt all I can now to and been keen enough to say the right thing but dang it I'd have stuttered and stammered and got nothing out that would have done anybody a mother good ye Sarah did you see his face woman you sent him off looking like a white light of odour and settled on him you sent the latter way too happy for mortal words Sarah and you made me proud I wouldn't trade you in my share or limit loss with any king you could mention he relaxed his clasp and sitting a heavy hand on his shoulder he looked straight into her eyes ye prime Sarah just prime he said Sarah Duncan stood alone in the middle of her two-roomed log cabin and lifted a bony claw-like pair of hands runned by frequent immersion in hot water cracked and chafed by exposure to cold black lined by constant battle with swamp-lone callous with burns and stared at them wonderingly pretty looking things ye are she whispered but ye had just been kissed and by such a man finest gold I've ever made it is his very best Duncan wouldn't trade with a king nah no I wouldn't trade with a queen with a palace and velvet goons and diamonds big as hazelnuts and a hundred visitors a day into the bargain you've been that honoured I'm blessed if I can bear the sushian dishwater still a kiss when I come off nothing can take it from me for which mine till I die Lord, if I'm a proud kisses on these old clothes will I be drawn on End of Chapter 2 Chapter 3 of Freckles This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by John Murray Roop Freckles by Jean Stratton Porter Chapter 3 Wherein a feather falls and a soul is born So Freckles fared through the bitter winter he was very happy he had hungered for freedom love and appreciation for so long he had been unspeakably lonely at the home and the utter loneliness of the great desert or forest is not so difficult to endure as the loneliness of being constantly surrounded by crowds of people who do not care in the least whether one is living or dead all through the winter Freckles' entire energy was given to keeping up his lines and his chickens from freezing or starving when the first breath of spring touched the limer lost and the snow receded before it when the cackens began to bloom when there came a hint of green to the trees, bushes and swale when the rushes lifted their heads so the newly resurrected season beat strongly in the heart of nature something new stirred in the breast of the boy nature always levies her tribute now she laid a powerful hand on the soul of Freckles to which the boy's whole being responded though he had not the least idea of what was troubling them Duncan accepted his wife's theory that it was a touch of spring fever but Freckles knew better he never had been so well clean, hot and steady with his blood pulsed in his veins he was always hungry and his most difficult work tired him not at all for long months without a single intermission he had tramped those seven miles of trail twice each day through every conceivable state of weather with a heavy club he gave his wires a sure test in between sections, first in play afterward to keep a circulation going he had acquired the skill of an expert drum major in his work he was precise for every muscle of his body each hour of the day at night a bath, wholesome food and sound sleep in a room that never knew fire he had gained flesh and color and developed a greater strength and endurance than anyone ever could have guessed nor did the limberloss contain last year's terrors he had been with her in her hour of desolation when stripped bare and deserted she had stood shivering as if herself afraid he had made excursions into the interior he was very familiar with every path and road that ever had been cut he had sounded the depths of her deepest pools and had learned why the trees grew so magnificently he had found that places of swamp and swale were few compared with miles of solid timberland concealed by summer's luxuriant undergrowth sounds that at first had struck cold fear into his soul he now knew had left on wing and silent foot at the approach of winter as flock after flock of the birds returned and he recognized the old echo's reawakening he found to a surprise that he had been lonely for them and was hailing their return with great joy all his fears were forgotten instead he was possessed of an overpowering desire to know what they were to learn where they had been and whether they would make friends with him as the winterbirds had done and if they did would they be as fickle or with the running sap creeping worm in winging bug the bird's chicken had deserted him entered the swamp and feasted to such a state of plethora on its store that they cared little for his supply so that in the strenuous days of mating and nest building the boy was deserted he chafed at the birds in gratitude but he found speedy consolation in watching and befriending the newcomers he surely would have been proud and highly pleased if he had known that many of the former inhabitants of the swamp now grouped their nest beside the timber line solely for the sake of his protection and company the early resurrection of the limberlost is a mighty revival Reckles stood back and watched with awe and envy the gradual reclothing and repopulation of the swamp keen eye and alert through danger and loneliness he noted every stage of development from the first piping frog and unsheathing bud to full leafage to the turn of the last spike the knowledge of his complete loneliness and utter insignificance was hourly thrust upon him he brooded and fretted until he was in a fever yet he never guessed the cause he was filled with the vast impatience a longing that he scarcely could endure he was tuned by the zodiac tuned by the limberlost and by every delight of a newly resurrected season it should have been June in the hearts of all men if Reckles scowled darkly as he came down the trail running tap tap that tested the sagging wire and telegraphed word of his coming to his furred and feathered friends of the swamp this morning carried the story of his discontent a mile ahead of him Reckles special pet a daity yellow-coated black sleeve cock goldfinch had remained on the wire for several days past the bravest of all and Reckles absorbed with the cunning and beauty of the tiny fell never guessed that he was being duped and flirting and swinging for the express purpose of so holding his attention that he would never look up and see a small cradle of thistle down and wool perilously near his head in the beginning of brooding the spunky little homesteader had clung heroically to the wire when he was almost paralyzed with fright when day after day passed and brought only softly whistled repetition to his call a handful of crumbs on top of a locust's line post and gently worded coaxings of late he had sung and swung during the passing of Reckles who, not dreaming of the nest and the solemn-eyed little hen so close thought himself unusually gifted in his power to attract the birds this morning the goldfinch scarcely could believe his ears and clung to the wire until an unusually vicious wrap set him spitting a foot in the air and his pssst came with a squall of utter panic the wires were ringing with a story the birds could not translate as ignorant of the trouble as they a peculiar movement beneath a small walnut tree caught his attention he stopped to investigate there was an unusually large looted cocoon and the moth was bursting the upper end and it struggles to reach light and air Reckles stood and stared there's something in there trying to get out he muttered I wonder if I could help it he said best not be trying if I hadn't nap it along there wouldn't have been anyone to do anything and maybe I'd only be heard it's oh, scagny it's been bone Reckles gasped with surprise the moth cleared the opening and with many wobblings and contortions climbed up the tree he stared speechless with amazement as the moth crept around a limb and clung to the underside there was a big, percy body almost as large as his thumb and of the very snowiest white that Reckles had ever seen there was a band of delicate lavender across his forehead and his feet were of the same color there were antlers like tiny straw colored ferns on its head and from its shoulders hung the crumpled wet wings as Reckles gazed tense with astonishment he saw that these were expanding drooping, taking on color and small oval markings were beginning to show the minutes passed Reckles' steady gaze never wavered he was trembling with eagerness and anxiety as he saw what was taking place it's going to fly he breathed in hush wonder the morning sun fell in the moth and dried its velvet down while the warm air made it fluffy the rapidly growing wings began to show the most delicate green with lavender four ribs transparent, eye-shaped markings edged with lines of red, tan and black and long, crisp trailers Reckles was whispering to himself for fear of disturbing the moth it began a systematic exercise of raising and lowering its exquisite wings to drive them into established circulation the boy realized that soon it would be able to spread them and sail away his long coming soul set up its first shivering cry he don't know what it is oh, I wish I knew oh, I wish I knew it must be something grand it can't be a butterfly it's a way too big oh, I wish there was someone to tell me what it is he climbed on the locus post and balancing himself with the wire held a finger in the line of the moth's advance up the twig it unhesitatingly climbed on so he stepped to the path holding it to the light and examining it closely then he held it in the shade and turned it, gloating over its markings and beautiful coloring held the moth to the limb it climbed on still waving those magnificent wings my would I'd like to be staying with you he said but if I was to stand there all day you couldn't grow any prettier than you are right now and I wouldn't grow smart enough to tell what you had I suppose there's someone who knows of course there is Mr. McLean said there were people who knew every leaf, bed, and floor and the limberlore oh lord I wish you'd be telling me just this one thing the goldfinch had ventured back to the wire for there was his mate only a few inches above the main creature's head and indeed he simply must not be allowed to look up so the brave little fellow rocked on the wire and piped as he had done every day for a week see me see me see ya of course I see ya growled freckles I see ya day after day and what good is it doing me I might see ya every morning for a year and then not be able to be telling anyone about it seen a bird with black and silk wings little yellow as any canary that's as far as I get what are you doing here anyway if you've made what's your name see ya I reckon I see ya but it might as well be bland bro, what good is doing me freckles impatiently struck the wire with a screech of fear the goldfinch fled precipitately his mate arose from the nest with a whir freckles looked up and saw it oh, he cried so that's what you're doing here you have a wife and so close my head ain't been muddy near way in a boot on my boot and never knew it freckles laughed at his own jest while in better humor he climbed to examine the neat tiny cradle in its contents the hen darted at him in a frenzy no, where do you come in he demanded when he saw that she was not similar to the goldfinch you be clean outta here this is none of your fright this is the nest of my little yellow friend of the wire and you shan't be touching it don't blame me for wanting to see it all my, but it's a fine nest in beauties of eggs will you be keeping away or will I find a stick at you freckles dropped to the trail the hen darted to the nest and settled on it with a tender coddling movement he of the yellow coat flew to the edge to make sure that everything was right he would have been playing to the various novice that there were partners in that cradle will I be switched muttered freckles if that ain't both the nest he's yellow and she's green or she's yellow and he's green of course I don't know and I haven't any way to find out but it's plain as the nose on your face that they are both ready to be fighting for that nest so of course they belong down in their beecho say that's what's been sticking me all this week on that grass nest in the thorn tree down the land one day a bluebird is setting so I think it's us the next day a brown bird is on and I chase it off because the nest is blues the next day the brown bird is on again and I let her be because I think it must be us the next day big ollie blues on and off I send her because it's browns and now I bet my hat it's both a nest and I've only been bothering him and making a big fool of myself pretty specimen I am pretending to be a friend of the beds and so blamed ignorant I don't know which one is going pairs blue and brown or a pair of course if yellow and green are and there's the red birds I never thought of them he's red and she's gray and now I want to be knowing are they all different I know of course they ain't there's the jays all blue and the crows all black and the native freckles discontent welled until he almost choked with anger and chagrin he plotted down the trail scowling blackly and viciously spaying the wire at the fincher's nest he left the line and peered into the thorn tree there was no bird brooding he pressed closer to take a peep at the snowy spotless little eggs he had found so beautiful when at the slight noise I praised four tiny baby heads light open mouths uttering hunger cries freckles stepped back the brown burner lighted on the edge and closed one cavity with a wiggling green worm well not two minutes later the blue filled another with a white that settled it the blue and the brown were mates once again freckles repeated his oh I wish I knew around the bridge spanning sleepy snake creek the swale spread widely the river was scattering and willows, rushes, marsh grass and splendid wildflowers grew abundantly here lazy big blackwater snakes for which the creek was named sunned on the bushes wild ducks and grebe gathered cranes and herons fished and muskrats plowed the bank in queer rolling furrows it was always a place full of interest so freckles loved to linger on the bridge watching the marsh and water people he also transacted affairs of importance with the wildflowers and sweet marsh grass enjoyed splashing through the shallow pools on the other side of the bridge then too where the creek ended the swamp was a place of unusual beauty the water spread in dark some mossy green pools water plants and lilies grew luxuriously throwing up large rank green leaves nowhere else in the limberloss can be found frog music to equal that of the mouth of the creek the drumming and piping rolled in never-ending orchestral effect while the full chorus rang to its accompaniment throughout the season freckles slowly followed the path leading from the bridge to the line it was the one spot at which he might relax his vigilance the boldest timber thief the swamp ever had known would not have attempted to enter it by the mouth of the creek and accounted the water because there was no protection from surrounding trees he was bending the rank grass with his cudgel and thinking of the shade the denture swamp afforded when he suddenly dodged side-wise the cudgel whistled sharply through the air and freckles sprang back from the clear sky above him first level with his face then skimming, dipping, tilting, whirling until it struck quill down and the path in front of him came a glossy, iridescent, big black feather as it touched the ground freckles snatched it up with almost a continuous movement facing the sky there was not a tree of any size at a large open space there was no wind to carry it from the clear sky it had fallen and freckles gazing eagerly into the arch of June blue with a few lazy clouds floating high in the sea of ether had neither mind nor knowledge to dream of the bird hanging as if frozen there he turned the big quill questionnally and again his odd eyes swept the sky a feather dropped from heaven he breathed reverently and a holy angel's molten but no, if they were, it would be white maybe all the angels are not for being white what if the angels of God are white and those of the devil are black but a black one has no business up there maybe some poor black angel is so tired of being punished it's for slipping to the gates beating its wings trying to make the mess to a year again and again freckles searched the sky but there was no answering gleam of golden gates no form of sailing bird then he went slowly on his way turning the feather and wondering about it it was a wing quill 18 inches in length with a heavy spine gray at the base shading to jet black at the tip and it caught the play of the sun's rays and slanting gleams of green and bronze again freckles, old man of the sea sat sullen and heavy on his shoulders and waited him down until his step lagged and his heart ached where did he come from? what is it? oh how I wish I knew he kept repeating as he turned and studied the feather with almost unseen eyes so intently was he thinking before him spread a large green pool filled with rotting logs and leaves bordered with delicate ferns and grasses among which lifted the creamy spikes of the arrow head the blue of water hyacinth and the delicate yellow of the jewel flower as freckles leaned, handling the feather and staring at it then into the depths of the pool he once more gave voice to his own query I wonder what it is? straight across from him couched in the mosses of a soggy old log a big green bullfrog with palpinate throat and batting eyes lifted his head and bettle an answer thinned out, thinned out what's that? stammered freckles, almost too bewildered to speak I knew you're only a bullfrog would he be jabbers? it sounded mildly like speech wouldn't you please be saying it over? the bullfrog cuddled contentedly in the ooze then suddenly he lifted his voice and as an imperative drumbeat rolled it again thinned out, thinned out freckles had the answer something seemed to snap in his brain there was a wavering flame before his eyes then his mind cleared his head lifted in a new pose his shoulders squared while his spine straightened the agony was over, his soul floated free freckles came into his birthright before good, a wee he uttered the oath so impressively that the recording angel never winced he posted it in the prayer column freckles set his hat over the top of one of the locus posts used between trees to hold up the wire while he fastened the feather securely in the band then he started down the line talking to himself as men who have worked long alone always followed the habit of doing what a fool I've been, he muttered of course, that's what I've to do there wouldn't not be anybody doing it for me of course I can, what am I muttering for if I was a four-footed thing of the swamp maybe I couldn't, but a man can do anything if he's got the greed to work hard enough and stick at it, Mr. McLean is always saying and here's the way I am to do it he said too that there were people that do everything in the swamp of course, they've written books a thing for me to be doing is to quit moping and be buying some never bought a book in my life or anything else with much accrual oh, ain't I glad I didn't waste my money I'd surely be having enough to get a few let me see Frickles sat on a log took his pencil and a count book and figured on a back page he had walked the timber line ten months his pay was thirty dollars a month and his board cost him eight that left twenty-two dollars a month and his clothing had cost him very little at the lease he had two hundred dollars in the bank he drew a deep breath and smiled at the sky with satisfaction and he'd be having a book about all the goods trees, flowers, butterflies and just by goomy I'll be having one about the frugs if he takes every sin I have he promised himself he put away the count book that was his most cherished possession caught up a stick and started down the line the even tap-tap and some whistle carried far ahead of him the message that Frickles was himself again he fell into a rapid pace he had lost time that morning when he rounded the last curve he was almost running there was a chance that the boss might be there for his weekly report then wavering, flickering, darting here and there over the sweet marsh grass came a large black shadow sweeping so closely before him that for the second time that morning Frickles died since spring back he found some owls and hawks of the swamp that he thought might be clashed as large birds but never anything like this for six feet it spread its big shining wings its strong feet could be seen drawn among its feathers the sun glided on its sharp hooked beak its eyes glowed caught the light and seemed able to pierce the ground at his feet he cared no more for Frickles than if he had not been there a slow tree while a second later it awkwardly hopped to the trunk of a lightning-riven elm turned its back and began searching the blue Frickles looked just in time to see a second shadow sweep the grass and another bird a trifle smaller and not quite so brilliant in the light slowly sailed down to the perch beside the first evidently they were mates for with a queer rolling hop the first comer shivered his bronze wings frickles and gave her a silly little peck on her wing then he cooked tedishly threw away and ogled her he lifted his head waddled from her a few steps awkwardly ambled back and gave her such a simple sort of a kiss on her beak that Frickles burst into a laugh but clapped his hand over his mouth the stifle of sound the lover ducked and sidestepped a few feet he spread his wings and slowly and softly waved them precisely fanning his charmer which was indeed the result he accomplished then a wave of uncontrollable tenderness moved him so he hobbled to his bombardment once more he faced her squarely this time and turned his head from side to side with queer little jerks and indiscriminate peckings at her wings and head and smirkings that really should have been irresistible she yawned and shuffled away indifferently Frickles reached up pulled the quill from his hat and looking from it to the birds nodded in subtle conviction so you heard me black angels you spulping no wonder you didn't get in but I'll back you to come closer at than any other birds ever did you fly higher than I can see have you picked the limit loss for a good thing and come to try it or you can be me chickens if you want to but I'm blessed if you ain't cool for new ones why don't you take this stick for a goon go skin in a mile Frickles broke into an unrestrained laugh for the bird lover was keen about his courting while evidently his mate was diffident when he approached too bolsterously she relieved him of a goodly tuft of feathers and sent him backward in a series of squirmy little jumps that gave the boy an idea of what had happened up sky to send the falling feather across his pathway squir one for the lady it'll be unfair in this with a ravish swagger half lifted wings and deep guttural hissing the lover approached again he suddenly lifted his body but she coolly rocked forward on the limb glided gracefully beneath him and slowly sailed into the limberlost he recovered himself and gazed after her in astonishment Frickles hurried down the trail shaking with laughter when he neared the path to the clearing and saw the boss sitting motionless on the mare that was the pride of his heart the boy broke into a run oh, Mr. McLean he cried I hope I haven't kept you waiting very long and the sun is getting on I've been so slow this morning I could have gone faster only there were that many things to keep me and I didn't know you would be here a hurry after this I never had to be given excuses before the line wasn't down and there was a sign of trouble it was other things that were making me late the boy immediately noticed the difference in him this flushed patting talkative land was not the same creature who had sought him in despair and bitterness he watched in wonder as Frickles mopped the perspiration from his forehead and began to laugh then forgetting all his customary reserve with the boss the pin-up boishness in the land broke forth with an eloquence of which he never dreamed he told his story he talked with such enthusiasm that McLean never took his eyes from his face or shifted in the saddle until he described the strange bird lover and then the boss suddenly bent over the pommel and laughed with the boy Frickles decorated his story with keen appreciation and rare touches of Irish whip and drollery it made it most interesting as well as very funny it was a first attempt at descriptive narration with an inborn gift for striking the vital point a naturalist dawning enthusiasm for the wonders of the limberlost and the welling joy of his newly found happiness he made McLean see the struggles of the moth and its freshly painted wings the deity, brilliant bird mates of different colors the feathers sliding through the clear air the palpitant throat and batting eyes of the frog while his version of the big bird's courtship won for the boss the best laugh he'd enjoyed for years they're in the middle of the swamp now said Frickles do you suppose there's any chance of them staying with me chicken? if they do they'll be the queerest I have but I tell you sir I'm finding some plum good ones they're a new kind over at the mouth of the creek that uses its wings like feet and walks on all fours it travels like a threshing machine there's another tall as me waist with a bell, a foot long, a neck net too not to take the semi-thirst and an elegant collar he's some blue and grey touched up with black, white and brown the voice of him is such that if he'd be going up and standing beside a tree and crying there a few times he'd be so on the square off I don't know but it would be a good idea to try him on the gang sir McClain laugh those must be the blue herons Frickles he said and he doesn't seem possible but your description of the big black birds sound like genuine black vultures they're combing enough in the south I've seen them numerous around the luma comps of Georgia but I've never heard of any this far north they must be strays you have described perfectly our nearest equivalent to a branch of these birds called in Europe Pharaoh's chickens but if they're combing to limberlost you'll have to drop Pharaoh and become Frickles chickens you know the birds won't they why they're too old and ugly to interest you oh not at all died Frickles bursted in a pure brogue at his haste I don't know as I'd be calling him exactly pretty and they do move like a hawken who is sloping but they're so big and fearless they have a fine color for black birds and their feet and beaks seem so strong you never saw anything so keen as their eyes and fly I just think so they must be flying miles straight up for they were out of sight completely when the feather fell I don't suppose I've chicken in the swamp that can go as close to heaven as these big black fellows and then Frickles voice dragged and he hesitated then what interestingly Erz McLean he was lovin' us so answered Frickles in a hush voice and I laughed and told on him but if I'd taken time to team I don't believe that I'd done it you see I've seen such a little bit of lovin' in my life you easily can be understanding that at the home it was every day the old story of neglect and desertion always people didn't even care enough for their children to keep them so you see sir I had to like him for trying so hard to make him know that he loved her of course they're only birds but if they're caring for each other like that why it's just the same as people, ain't it? Frickles lifted his brave steady eyes to the boss if anybody loved me like that Mr McLean I wouldn't be spendin' any time on how they looked to move all I'd be thinkin' of would be how they felt toward me if they would stay I'd be caring as much for them as any chickens I have if I did laugh at them it was fine the face of McLean was a study but the honest eyes of the boys were so compelling that he found himself answering you're right Frickles he's a gentleman he's indeed and the only real chicken you have of course you remain the limit lost will be a paradise for his family and now Frickles what has been this trouble lurch-spitting you've done your work as faithfully as anyone could ask but I can't have seen that there's something wrong are you tired of your job? I love it, answered Frickles it would almost break me heart when the ganghomes begins tearing up the swamp and scaring away me chickens then what is the trouble insisted McLean I think sir, it's been books answered Frickles you see, I didn't realize myself until the boofrog told me this morning I had never even heard about a place like this anyway, I wasn't understanding how it would be if I had been among these beautiful things every day I got so anxious like to be known and naming them that it got to eating into me and when it made me can use it when I was well as I could be of course, I learned to read write and figure some at school but there was nothing there or in any of the city that I even got to see I could not even be dreaming of such interesting things is there all here I've seen the pox, but good lord they ain't even beginning to be in it with the limerlos it's all new and strange to me I don't know a thing about any of it the boofrog told me to find out plain as day and books are the only way, ain't they? of course, said McLean astonished at himself for his heartfelt relief cast until that minute what it would have meant to him to have freckles give up you know enough to study out what you want yourself if you had the books, don't you? I'm pretty sure I do said freckles I learned all I had the chance at in the home and me schooling was good as far as you went wouldn't let you go past 14, you know? I always did me sums perfect and loved me history books I had them almost by heart I never could get me grandma to suit them I said it was just born of me to go wrong token and if it hadn't been, I suppose I would have picked it up from the other children but I had the best voice of any of them in the home or school I could knock them all out singing I was always leader in the home and once one of the superintendents gave me car to fare and let me go into the city and sing in a boy's choir master said I'd be the swattest voice of them all until I got roof-like and then he made me quit for a will but he said it would be coming back by now and I'm really thinking it is but I've trade on the line a bit of late and it seems to go smooth again and look stronger the enemy chickens have been all the company I've been having and it will be all I want if I can have some books and learn the real names of things where they come from and I do such interesting thing it's been friend me more than I knew to be showed up here among all these wonders and not doing a thing I wanted to ask you what some books would cost me and if you'd be having the goodness to get me the right ones I think I have enough money Freckles offered his account book and the boss studied it gravely you're needing torture account Freckles he said ten dollars from this month's pay would provide you with everything you need to stutter on and I will write a friend in Grand Rapids today to select you the very best and send them at once Freckles eyes were shining never owned a book in my life he said even my school books were never mind Lord how I used to wish I could have just one of them for my very own won't it be fun to see me soberer than me from the pages of a book in the real names and all about them printed alongside how long will it be taken sir ten days you do nicely he said the client then seen Freckles licking his face he added I don't can bring you a tin bush or stutter box the next time he goes to town you can oil it to the west entrance and set it up wherever you want it you can put in your spare time feeling it with the specimens you find until the books come and then you can study out what you have I suspect you could collect specimens that I could send to a naturalist in the city and settle for you things like that winged creature this morning I don't know much in that line but it must have been a moth and it might have been rare I've seen them by the thousands in museums and in all nature I don't remember redder colouring than their wings I'll order you a butterfly net in box and show you how scientists pin specimens possibly you can make a fine collection of those swamp beauties you would be alright for you to take a pair of different moss and butterflies but I don't want to hit or you're killing any birds they are protected by heavy fines the client rode away leaving Freckles staring aghast then he saw the point and smiled standing on the trail he twirled the feather and thought over the morning well if life ain't getting to be worth living he said wonderingly biggest streak of look I've ever had but time something was coming my way but I wouldn't ever thought anybody could strike such magnificent prospects through only a falling feather End of Chapter 3