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Freckles
’
brow
wrinkled
in
his
effort
to
think
deeply
and
strongly
,
but
from
every
swaying
wild
rose
the
Angel
beckoned
to
him
.
When
he
crossed
Sleepy
Snake
Creek
and
the
goldfinch
,
waiting
as
ever
,
challenged
:
“
SEE
ME
?
”
Freckles
saw
the
dainty
swaying
grace
of
the
Angel
instead
.
What
is
a
man
to
do
with
an
Angel
who
dismembers
herself
and
scatters
over
a
whole
swamp
,
thrusting
a
vivid
reminder
upon
him
at
every
turn
?
Freckles
counted
the
days
.
This
first
one
he
could
do
little
but
test
his
wires
,
sing
broken
snatches
,
and
dream
;
but
before
the
week
would
bring
her
again
he
could
do
many
things
.
He
would
carry
all
his
books
to
the
swamp
to
show
to
her
.
He
would
complete
his
flower
bed
,
arrange
every
detail
he
had
planned
for
his
room
,
and
make
of
it
a
bower
fairies
might
envy
.
He
must
devise
a
way
to
keep
water
cool
.
He
would
ask
Mrs
.
Duncan
for
a
double
lunch
and
an
especially
nice
one
the
day
of
her
next
coming
,
so
that
if
the
Bird
Woman
happened
to
be
late
,
the
Angel
might
not
suffer
from
thirst
and
hunger
.
He
would
tell
her
to
bring
heavy
leather
leggings
,
so
that
he
might
take
her
on
a
trip
around
the
trail
.
She
should
make
friends
with
all
of
his
chickens
and
see
their
nests
.
On
the
line
he
talked
of
her
incessantly
.
“
You
needn
’
t
be
thinking
,
”
he
said
to
the
goldfinch
,
“
that
because
I
’
m
coming
down
this
line
alone
day
after
day
,
it
’
s
always
to
be
so
.
Some
of
these
times
you
’
ll
be
swinging
on
this
wire
,
and
you
’
ll
see
me
coming
,
and
you
’
ll
swing
,
skip
,
and
flirt
yourself
around
,
and
chip
up
right
spunky
:
’
SEE
ME
?
’
I
’
ll
be
saying
’
See
you
?
Oh
,
Lord
!
See
her
!
’
You
’
ll
look
,
and
there
she
’
ll
stand
.
The
sunshine
won
’
t
look
gold
any
more
,
or
the
roses
pink
,
or
the
sky
blue
,
because
she
’
ll
be
the
pinkest
,
bluest
,
goldest
thing
of
all
.
You
’
ll
be
yelling
yourself
hoarse
with
the
jealousy
of
her
.
The
sawbird
will
stretch
his
neck
out
of
joint
,
and
she
’
ll
turn
the
heads
of
all
the
flowers
.
Wherever
she
goes
,
I
can
go
back
afterward
and
see
the
things
she
’
s
seen
,
walk
the
path
she
’
s
walked
,
hear
the
grasses
whispering
over
all
she
’
s
said
;
and
if
there
’
s
a
place
too
swampy
for
her
bits
of
feet
;
Holy
Mother
!
Maybe
—
maybe
she
’
d
be
putting
the
beautiful
arms
of
her
around
me
neck
and
letting
me
carry
her
over
!
”
Freckles
shivered
as
with
a
chill
.
He
sent
the
cudgel
whirling
skyward
,
dexterously
caught
it
,
and
set
it
spinning
.
“
You
damned
presumptuous
fool
!
”
he
cried
.
“
The
thing
for
you
to
be
thinking
of
would
be
to
stretch
in
the
muck
for
the
feet
of
her
to
be
walking
over
,
and
then
you
could
hold
yourself
holy
to
be
even
of
that
service
to
her
.
“
Maybe
she
’
ll
be
wanting
the
cup
me
blue
-
and
-
brown
chickens
raised
their
babies
in
.
Perhaps
she
’
d
like
to
stop
at
the
pool
and
see
me
bullfrog
that
had
the
goodness
to
take
on
human
speech
to
show
me
the
way
out
of
me
trouble
.
If
there
’
s
any
feathers
falling
that
day
,
why
,
it
’
s
from
the
wings
of
me
chickens
—
it
’
s
sure
to
be
,
for
the
only
Angel
outside
the
gates
will
be
walking
this
timberline
,
and
every
step
of
the
way
I
’
ll
be
holding
me
breath
and
praying
that
she
don
’
t
unfold
wings
and
sail
away
before
the
hungry
eyes
of
me
.
”
So
Freckles
dreamed
his
dreams
,
made
his
plans
,
and
watched
his
line
.
He
counted
not
only
the
days
,
but
the
hours
of
each
day
.
As
he
told
them
off
,
every
one
bringing
her
closer
,
he
grew
happier
in
the
prospect
of
her
coming
.
He
managed
daily
to
leave
some
offering
at
the
big
elm
log
for
his
black
chickens
.
He
slipped
under
the
line
at
every
passing
,
and
went
to
make
sure
that
nothing
was
molesting
them
.
Though
it
was
a
long
trip
,
he
paid
them
several
extra
visits
a
day
for
fear
a
snake
,
hawk
,
or
fox
might
have
found
the
baby
.
For
now
his
chickens
not
only
represented
all
his
former
interest
in
them
,
but
they
furnished
the
inducement
that
was
bringing
his
Angel
.
