The things we do!

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 are coming to the
Limberlost they will have to drop Pharaoh and become Freckles' Chickens,
like the remainder of the birds; won't they? Or are they too odd and
ugly to interest you?"
"Oh, not at all, at all!" cried Freckles, bursting into pure brogue in
his haste. "I don't know as I'd be calling them exactly pretty, and they
do move like a rocking-horse loping, but they are 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? Why, just
think, sir, they must be flying miles straight up, for they were out of
sight completely when the feather fell. I don't suppose I've a chicken
in the swamp that can go as close heaven as those big, black fellows,
and then----"
Freckles' voice dragged and he hesitated.
"Then what?" interestedly urged McLean.
"He was loving her so," answered Freckles in a hushed voice.


Pages:
48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72