The face of McLean was a study; but the honest eyes of the boy were so compelling that he found himself answering:  “You are right, Freckles.  He’s a gentleman, isn’t he?  And the only real chicken you have.  Of course he’ll remain!  The Limberlost will be paradise for his family.  And now, Freckles, what has been the trouble all spring?  You have done your work as faithfully as anyone could ask, but I can’t help seeing that there is something wrong.  Are you tired of your job?”

“I love it,” answered Freckles.  “It will almost break me heart when the gang comes and begins tearing up the swamp and scaring away me chickens.”

“Then what is the trouble?” insisted McLean.

“I think, sir, it’s been books,” answered Freckles.  “You see, I didn’t realize it meself until the bullfrog told me this morning.  I hadn’t ever even heard about a place like this.  Anyway, I wasn’t understanding how it would be, if I had.  Being among these beautiful things every day, I got so anxious like to be knowing and naming them, that it got to eating into me and went and made me near sick, when I was well as I could be.  Of course, I learned to read, write, and figure some at school, but there was nothing there, or in any of the city that I ever got to see, that would make a fellow even be dreaming of such interesting things as there are here.  I’ve seen the parks—­but good Lord, they ain’t even beginning to be in it with the Limberlost!  It’s all new and strange to me.  I don’t know a thing about any of it.  The bullfrog told me to ’find out,’ plain as day, and books are the only way; ain’t they?”

“Of course,” said McLean, astonished at himself for his heartfelt relief.  He had not guessed until that minute what it would have meant to him to have Freckles give up.  “You know enough to study out what you want yourself, if you have the books; don’t you?”

“I am pretty sure I do,” said Freckles.  “I learned all I’d the chance at in the Home, and me schooling was good as far as it went.  Wouldn’t let you go past fourteen, you know.  I always did me sums perfect, and loved me history books.  I had them almost by heart.  I never could get me grammar to suit them.  They said it was just born in me to go wrong talking, and if it hadn’t been I suppose I would have picked it up from the other children; but I’d the best voice of any of them in the Home or at school.  I could knock them all out singing.  I was always leader in the Home, and once one of the superintendents gave me carfare and let me go into the city and sing in a boys’ choir.  The master said I’d the swatest voice of them all until it got rough like, and then he made me quit for awhile, but he said it would be coming back by now, and I’m railly thinking it is, sir, for I’ve tried on the line a bit of late and it seems to go smooth again and lots stronger.  That and me chickens have been all the company I’ve been having, and it will be all I’ll want if I can have some books and learn the real names of things, where they come from, and why they do such interesting things.  It’s been fretting me more than I knew to be shut up here among all these wonders and not knowing a thing.  I wanted to ask you what some books would cost me, and if you’d be having the goodness to get me the right ones.  I think I have enough money.”