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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
old
query
:
“
I
wonder
what
it
is
!
”
Straight
across
from
him
,
couched
in
the
mosses
of
a
soggy
old
log
,
a
big
green
bullfrog
,
with
palpitant
throat
and
batting
eyes
,
lifted
his
head
and
bellowed
in
answer
.
“
FIN
’
DOUT
!
FIN
’
DOUT
!
”
“
Wha
—
what
’
s
that
?
”
stammered
Freckles
,
almost
too
much
bewildered
to
speak
.
“
I
—
I
know
you
are
only
a
bullfrog
,
but
,
be
jabbers
,
that
sounded
mightily
like
speech
.
Wouldn
’
t
you
please
to
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
:
“
FIN
’
DOUT
!
FIN
’
DOUT
!
FIN
DOUT
!
”
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
poise
,
his
shoulders
squared
,
while
his
spine
straightened
.
The
agony
was
over
.
His
soul
floated
free
.
Freckles
came
into
his
birthright
.
“
Before
God
,
I
will
!
”
He
uttered
the
oath
so
impressively
that
the
recording
angel
never
winced
as
he
posted
it
in
the
prayer
column
.
Freckles
set
his
hat
over
the
top
of
one
of
the
locust
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
fall
into
the
habit
of
doing
.
“
What
a
fool
I
have
been
!
”
he
muttered
.
“
Of
course
that
’
s
what
I
have
to
do
!
There
wouldn
’
t
likely
anybody
be
doing
it
for
me
.
Of
course
I
can
!
What
am
I
a
man
for
?
If
I
was
a
four
-
footed
thing
of
the
swamp
,
maybe
I
couldn
’
t
;
but
a
man
can
do
anything
if
he
’
s
the
grit
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
knew
everything
in
the
swamp
.
Of
course
they
have
written
books
!
The
thing
for
me
to
be
doing
is
to
quit
moping
and
be
buying
some
.
Never
bought
a
book
in
me
life
,
or
anything
else
of
much
account
,
for
that
matter
.
Oh
,
ain
’
t
I
glad
I
didn
’
t
waste
me
money
!
I
’
ll
surely
be
having
enough
to
get
a
few
.
Let
me
see
.
”
Freckles
sat
on
a
log
,
took
his
pencil
and
account
-
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
least
he
had
two
hundred
dollars
in
the
bank
.
He
drew
a
deep
breath
and
smiled
at
the
sky
with
satisfaction
.
