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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"

They'll drive away the
birds and spoil the cathedral. When they have done their worst, then
all these mills close here will follow in and take out the cheap timber.
Then the landowners will dig a few ditches, build some fires, and in two
summers more the Limberlost will be in corn and potatoes."
They looked at each other, and groaned despairingly in unison.
"You like it, too," said Freckles.
"Yes," said the Angel, "I love it. Your room is a little piece right out
of the heart of fairyland, and the cathedral is God's work, not yours.
You only found it and opened the door after He had it completed. The
birds, flowers, and vines are all so lovely. The Bird Woman says it is
really a fact that the mallows, foxfire, iris, and lilies are larger and
of richer coloring there than in the remainder of the country. She says
it's because of the rich loam and muck. I hate seeing the swamp torn up,
and to you it will be like losing your best friend; won't it?"
"Something like," said Freckles. "Still, I've the Limberlost in me heart
so that all of it will be real to me while I live, no matter what they
do to it.


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