Chapter VII

           Round-eyed,FreckleswatchedtheBirdWomanandtheAngeldriveaway.Aftertheywerefromsightandhewassafelyhiddenamongthebranchesofasmalltree,herememberedthatheneitherhadthankedthemnorsaidgood-bye.Consideringwhattheyhadbeenthrough,theyneverwouldcomeagain.Hisheartsankuntilhehadpalpitationinhiswading-boots.

           Stretchingthelengthofthelimb,hethoughtdeeply,thoughhewasnotthinkingofBlackJackorWessner.WouldtheBirdWomanandtheAngelcomeagain?Nootherwomanwhomheeverhadknownwould.Butdidtheyresembleanyotherwomenheeverhadknown?HethoughtoftheBirdWoman’sunruffledfaceandtheAngel’srevolverpractice,andpresentlyhewasnotsosurethattheywouldnotreturn.

           Whatwerethepeopleinthebigworldlike?Hisknowledgewassoverylimited.TherehadbeenpeopleattheHome,whoexchangedastilted,perfunctorykindnessfortheirsalaries.Thevisitorswhocalledonreceivingdayshehaddividedintothreeclasses:thepsalm-singingkind,whocamewithatearintheeyeandhypocrisyineveryfeatureoftheirfaces;thekindwhodressedinsilksandjewels,andhandedtothosepoorlittlemother-hungrysoulsworntoysthattheirchildrennolongercaredfor,inexactlythesamespiritinwhichtheypitchedbiscuitstothemonkeysatthezoo,andforthesamereason—toseehowtheywouldtakethemandbeamusedbywhattheywoulddo;andthethirdclass,whomheconsideredrealpeople.Theymadehimfeeltheycaredthathewasthere,andthattheywouldhavebeengladtoseehimelsewhere.