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 parings of apples,
turnips, potatoes, stray cabbage-leaves, and carrots, and tied to the
bushes meat-bones having scraps of fat and gristle. 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 to him the idea of cracking nuts, from the store he had
gathered for Duncan's children, for the squirrels, in the effort to add
them to his family. Soon he had them coming--red, gray, and black; then
he became filled with a 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 at the same hour. Always he found Freckles at his work,
faithful and brave, no matter how severe the weather.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39