the book finally came
to Doubleday, Page & Company she recounts as follows:

"By the time 'Freckles' was finished, I had exercised my woman's
prerogative and 'changed my mind'; so I sent the manuscript to
Doubleday, Page & Company, who accepted it. They liked it well enough
to take a special interest in it and to bring it out with greater
expense than it was at all customary to put upon a novel at that time;
and this in face of the fact that they had repeatedly warned me that
the nature work in it would kill fully half its chances with the
public. Mr. F.N. Doubleday, starting on a trip to the Bahamas, remarked
that he would like to take a manuscript with him to read, and the
office force decided to put 'Freckles' into his grip. The story of the
plucky young chap won his way to the heart of the publishers, under a
silk cotton tree, 'neath bright southern skies, and made such a friend
of him that through the years of its book-life it has been the object
of special attention. Mr. George Doran gave me a photograph which Mr.
Horace MacFarland made of Mr. Doubleday during this reading of the Mss.
of 'Freckles' which is especially interesting."

That more than 2,000,000 readers have found pleasure and profit in Mrs.
Porter's books is a cause for particular gratification. These stories
all have, as a fundamental reason of their existence, the author's
great love of nature. To have imparted this love to others--to have
inspired many hundreds of thousands to look for the first time with
seeing eyes at the pageant of the out-of-doors--is a satisfaction that
must endure. For the part of the publishers, they began their business
by issuing "Nature Books" at a time when the sale of such works was
problematical. As their tastes and inclinations were along the same
lines which Mrs. Porter loved to follow, it gave them great pleasure to
be associated with her books which opened the eyes of so great a public
to new and worthy fields of enjoyment.

The history of "Freckles" is unique. The publishers had inserted
marginal drawings on many pages, but these, instead of attracting
attention to the nature charm of the book, seemed to have exactly a
contrary effect. The public wanted a novel. The illustrations made it
appear to be a nature book, and it required three long slow years for
"Freckles" to pass from hand to hand and prove that there really was a
novel between the covers, but that it was a story that took its own
time and wound sl