SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 390 | Next

Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"


Golly, but they're nice, ilegant people. I tell you I'm proud to be same
blood with them! Come closer, quick! I was going to do this yesterday,
and somehow I just felt that you'd surely be coming today and I waited.
I'm selecting the Angel's ring stone. The ring she ordered for me is
finished and they sent it to keep me company. See? It's an emerald--just
me color, Lord O'More says."
Freckles flourished his hand.
"Ain't that fine? Never took so much comfort with anything in me life.
Every color of the old swamp is in it. I asked the Angel to have a
little shamrock leaf cut on it, so every time I saw it I'd be thinking
of the 'love, truth, and valor' of that song she was teaching me. Ain't
that a beautiful song? Some of these days I'm going to make it echo. I'm
a little afraid to be doing it with me voice yet, but me heart's tuning
away on it every blessed hour. Will you be looking at these now?"
Freckles tilted a tray of unset stones from Peacock's that would have
ransomed several valuable kings. He held them toward McLean, stirring
them with his right arm.


Pages:
378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402