Веснушки

Chapter X

           Astheyreachedthebushesattheentrance,thevoiceoftheAngelstoppedthem,foritwascommandingandfilledwithmuchimpatience.

           “FrecklesJamesRossMcLean!”shewassaying.“Youfillmewithdark-bluedespair!You’resingingasifyourvoicewereglassandmightbreakatanyminute.Whydon’tyousingasyoudidaweekago?Answermethat,please.”

           FrecklessmiledconfusedlyattheAngel,whosatononeofhisfancyseats,playinghisaccompanimentonherbanjo.

           “Youareafraud,”shesaid.“Hereyouwentlastweekandledmetothinkthattherewasthemakingofagreatsingerinyou,andnowyouaresinging—doyouknowhowbadlyyouaresinging?”

           “Yis,”saidFrecklesmeekly.“I’mthinkingI’mtoohappytobesingingwelltoday.Themusicdon’tcomerightonlywhenI’mlonesomeandsad.Theworld’sforbeingallsunshineatprisint,foramongyouandMr.McLeanandtheBirdWomanI’mafterbeingTHAThappythatIcan’tkeepmethoughtsonmenotes.It’smorethansorryIamtobedisappointingyou.Playitover,andI’llbebeginningagain,andthistimeI’llholdhard.”

           “Well,”saidtheAngeldisgustedly,“itseemstomethatifIhadallthethingstobeproudofthatyouhave,I’dliftupmyheadandsing!”

           “AndwhatisitI’vetobeproudof,ma’am?”politelyinquiredFreckles.

           “Why,awholeworldfulofthings,”criedtheAngelexplosively.“Foronething,youcanbegoodandproudoverthewayyou’vekeptthetimberthievesoutofthislease,andthetrustyourfatherhasinyou.

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