Веснянки
Chapter III
Beforehimspreadalarge,greenpool,filledwithrottinglogsandleaves,borderedwithdelicatefernsandgrassesamongwhichliftedthecreamyspikesofthearrow-head,theblueofwater-hyacinth,andthedelicateyellowofthejewel-flower.AsFrecklesleaned,handlingthefeatherandstaringatit,thenintothedepthsofthepool,heoncemoregavevoicetohisoldquery:“Iwonderwhatitis!”
Straightacrossfromhim,couchedinthemossesofasoggyoldlog,abiggreenbullfrog,withpalpitantthroatandbattingeyes,liftedhisheadandbellowedinanswer.“FIN’DOUT!FIN’DOUT!”
“Wha—what’sthat?”stammeredFreckles,almosttoomuchbewilderedtospeak.“I—Iknowyouareonlyabullfrog,but,bejabbers,thatsoundedmightilylikespeech.Wouldn’tyoupleasetobesayingitover?”
Thebullfrogcuddledcontentedlyintheooze.Thensuddenlyheliftedhisvoice,and,asanimperativedrumbeat,rolleditagain:“FIN’DOUT!FIN’DOUT!FINDOUT!”
Freckleshadtheanswer.Somethingseemedtosnapinhisbrain.Therewasawaveringflamebeforehiseyes.Thenhismindcleared.Hisheadliftedinanewpoise,hisshoulderssquared,whilehisspinestraightened.Theagonywasover.Hissoulfloatedfree.Frecklescameintohisbirthright.
“BeforeGod,Iwill!”Heutteredtheoathsoimpressivelythattherecordingangelneverwincedasheposteditintheprayercolumn.
Frecklessethishatoverthetopofoneofthelocustpostsusedbetweentreestoholdupthewirewhilehefastenedthefeathersecurelyintheband.
