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Updated: May 23, 2025
Timothy head and clover-bloom, oxeye and feathery plume-grass, they had bowed and swayed and shivered till the commotion, very conspicuous to one looking down upon the tranquil, flowery sea of green, caught the attention of the marsh-hawk, which at that moment chanced to be perching on a high fence stake.
I don't know how, when I really mean it, but Freckles, I love you. I must have you, and now I guess I guess maybe I'd better kiss you next." She lifted her shamed face and bravely laid her feverish, quivering lips on his. Her breath, like clover-bloom, was in his nostrils, and her hair touched his face. Then she looked into his eyes with reproach. "Freckles," she panted, "Freckles!
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