body, for she was saying that she scarcely could wait for the time to
come for the next picture of the Little Chicken series. "I want to hear
the remainder of that song, and I hadn't even begun seeing your room
yet," she complained. "As for singing, if you can sing like that every
day, I never can get enough of it. I wonder if I couldn't bring my banjo
and some of the songs I like best. I'll play and you sing, and we'll put
the birds out of commission."

Freckles stood on the curb with drooped eyes, for he felt that if
he lifted them the tumult of tender adoration in them would show and
frighten her.

"I was afraid your ixperience the other day would scare you so that
you'd never be coming again," he found himself saying.

The Angel laughed gaily.

"Did I seem scared?" she questioned.

"No," said Freckles, "you did not."

"Oh, I just enjoyed that," she cried. "Those hateful, stealing old
things! I had a big notion to pink one of them, but I thought maybe
someway it would be best for you that I shouldn't. They needed it. That
didn't scare me; and as for the Bird Woman, she's accustomed to finding
snakes, tramps, cross dogs, sheep, cattle, and goodness knows what! You
can't frighten her when she's after a picture. Did they come back?"

"No," said Freckles. "The gang got there a little after noon and took
out the tree, but I must tell you, and you must tell the Bird Woman,
that there's no doubt but they will be coming back, and they will have
to make it before long now, for it's soon the gang will be there to work
on the swamp."

"Oh, what a shame!" cried the Angel. "They'll clear out roads, cut down
the beautiful trees, and tear up everything. They'll drive away the
birds and spoil the cathedral. When they have done their worst, then
all these mills close here will follow in and take out the cheap timber.
Then the landowners will dig a few ditches, build some fires, and in two
summers more the Limberlost will be in corn and potatoes."

They looked at each other, and groaned despairingly in unison.

"You like it, too," said Freckles.

"Yes," said the Angel, "I love it. Your room is a little piece right out
of the heart of fairyland, and the cathedral is God's work, not yours.
You only found it and opened the door after He had it completed. The
birds, flowers, and vines are all so lovely. The Bird Woman says it is
really a fact that the mallows, foxfire, iris, and lilies are larger and
of richer coloring ther