She could identify a
number of them, but of some she was ignorant, so they made notes of the
number and color of the eggs, material, and construction of nest, color,
size, and shape of the birds, and went to find them in the book.
At his room, when Freckles had lifted the overhanging bushes and stepped
back for her to enter, his heart was all out of time and place. The
study was vastly more beautiful than a week previous. The Angel drew a
deep breath and stood gazing first at one side, then at another,
then far down the cathedral aisle. "It's just fairyland!" she cried
ecstatically. Then she turned and stared at Freckles as she had at his
handiwork.
"What are you planning to be?" she asked wonderingly.
"Whatever Mr. McLean wants me to," he replied.
"What do you do most?" she asked.
"Watch me lines."
"I don't mean work!"
"Oh, in me spare time I keep me room and study in me books."
"Do you work on the room or the books most?"
"On the room only what it takes to keep it up, and the rest of the time
on me books.
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