Веснянки
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.
