Mrs. Duncan had a top
shelf in her closet cleared for them, far above the reach of meddling
little fingers.
When Freckles started for the trail next morning, the shining new
specimen-box flashed on his back. The black "chicken," a mere speck in
the blue, caught the gleam of it. The folded net hung beside the boy's
hatchet, and the bird book was in the box. He walked the line and tested
each section scrupulously, watching every foot of the trail, for he was
determined not to slight his work; but if ever a boy "made haste slowly"
in a hurry, it was Freckles that morning. When at last he reached the
space he had cleared and planted around his case, his heart swelled with
the pride of possessing even so much that he could call his own, while
his quick eyes feasted on the beauty of it.
He had made a large room with the door of the case set even with one
side of it. On three sides, fine big bushes of wild rose climbed to the
lower branches of the trees. Part of his walls were mallow, part alder,
thorn, willow, and dogwood. Below there filled in a solid mass of pale
pink sheep-laurel, and yellow St.
Pages:
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88