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“
I
’
ll
be
having
a
book
about
all
the
birds
,
trees
,
flowers
,
butterflies
,
and
—
—
Yes
,
by
gummy
!
I
’
ll
be
having
one
about
the
frogs
—
if
it
takes
every
cent
I
have
,
”
he
promised
himself
.
He
put
away
the
account
-
book
,
that
was
his
most
cherished
possession
,
caught
up
his
stick
,
and
started
down
the
line
.
The
even
tap
,
tap
,
and
the
cheery
,
gladsome
whistle
carried
far
ahead
of
him
the
message
that
Freckles
was
himself
again
.
He
fell
into
a
rapid
pace
,
for
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
Freckles
dodged
and
sprang
back
.
He
had
seen
some
owls
and
hawks
of
the
swamp
that
he
thought
might
be
classed
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
glinted
on
its
sharp
,
hooked
beak
.
Its
eyes
glowed
,
caught
the
light
,
and
seemed
able
to
pierce
the
ground
at
his
feet
.
It
cared
no
more
for
Freckles
than
if
he
had
not
been
there
;
for
it
perched
on
a
low
tree
,
while
a
second
later
it
awkwardly
hopped
to
the
trunk
of
a
lightning
-
riven
elm
,
turned
its
back
,
and
began
searching
the
blue
.
Freckles
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
perch
beside
the
first
.
Evidently
they
were
mates
,
for
with
a
queer
,
rolling
hop
the
first
-
comer
shivered
his
bronze
wings
,
sidled
to
the
new
arrival
,
and
gave
her
a
silly
little
peck
on
her
wing
.
Then
he
coquettishly
drew
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
kiss
on
her
beak
that
Freckles
burst
into
a
laugh
,
but
clapped
his
hand
over
his
mouth
to
stifle
the
sound
.
The
lover
ducked
and
side
-
stepped
a
few
feet
.
He
spread
his
wings
and
slowly
and
softly
waved
them
precisely
as
if
he
were
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
.
Freckles
reached
up
,
pulled
the
quill
from
his
hat
,
and
looking
from
it
to
the
birds
,
nodded
in
settled
conviction
.
“
So
you
’
re
me
black
angels
,
ye
spalpeens
!
No
wonder
you
didn
’
t
get
in
!
But
I
’
ll
back
you
to
come
closer
it
than
any
other
birds
ever
did
.
You
fly
higher
than
I
can
see
.
Have
you
picked
the
Limberlost
for
a
good
thing
and
come
to
try
it
?
Well
,
you
can
be
me
chickens
if
you
want
to
,
but
I
’
m
blest
if
you
ain
’
t
cool
for
new
ones
.
Why
don
’
t
you
take
this
stick
for
a
gun
and
go
skinning
a
mile
?
”
Freckles
broke
into
an
unrestrained
laugh
,
for
the
bird
-
lover
was
keen
about
his
courting
,
while
evidently
his
mate
was
diffident
.
When
he
approached
too
boisterously
,
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
.
