Веснянки

           Then,ifyouwillgo,Iintendtotakeyoutothecityandeducateyou,andyouaretobemyson,mylad—myownson!”

           FrecklestwistedhisfingerinNellie’smanetosteadyhimself.

           “Butwhyshouldyoubedoingthat,sir?”hefaltered.

           McLeanslidhisarmaroundtheboy’sshoulderandgatheredhimclose.

           “BecauseIloveyou,Freckles,”hesaidsimply.

           Frecklesliftedawhiteface.“MyGod,sir!”hewhispered.“Oh,myGod!”

           McLeantightenedhisclaspasecondlonger,thenherodedownthetrail.

           Frecklesliftedhishatandfacedthesky.Theharvestmoonlookeddown,sheetingtheswampinsilverglory.TheLimberlostsanghernightsong.Theswalesoftlyrustledinthewind.Wingedthingsofnightbrushedhisface;andstillFrecklesgazedupward,tryingtofathomthesethingsthathadcometohim.Therewasnohelpfromthesky.Itseemedfaraway,cold,andblue.Theearth,whereflowersblossomed,angelswalked,andlovecouldbefound,wasbetter.ButtoOne,above,hemustmakeacknowledgmentforthesemiracles.Hislipsmovedandhebegantalkingsoftly.

           “ThankYouforeachseparategoodthingthathascometome,”hesaid,“andaboveallforthefallingofthefeather.Forifitdidn’treallyfallfromanangel,itsfallingbroughtanAngel,andifit’sinthegreatheartofyoutoexerciseyourselfanyfurtheraboutme,oh,dopleasetobetakinggoodcareofher!”