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Updated: May 9, 2025
"I was an ugly brat," said Enoch, comfortably. "A red-headed, freckled-faced, awkward brat! And unhappy and disagreeable as I was ugly." "It seems so unfair!" Diana smoothed the broad forehead, tenderly. "I had such a happy childhood. I didn't go to school until I was twelve. Until then I lived the life of a little Indian, out of doors, taking the trail trips with dad or geologizing with mother.
As Franklin was walking on, busy with the impressions of his new world, he became conscious of rapid hoof-beats coming up behind him, and turned to see a horseman careering across the open in his direction, with no apparent object in view beyond that of making all the noise possible to be made by a freckled-faced cowboy who had been up all night, but still had some vitality which needed vent.
"Oh, yes, do!" exclaimed Jerry Macy, who had come up in time to hear Constance's question, in company with a mischievous-eyed, freckled-faced youth who rejoiced in the dignified cognomen of Daniel Webster Seabrooke, but who was most appropriately nicknamed the Gadfly. "Mr. Seabrooke, Miss Raymond," introduced Jerry.
When Mr. Phinney entered the little waiting room he found it already tenanted. Captain Sol had not yet arrived, but official authority was represented by "Issy" McKay his full name was Issachar Ulysses Grant McKay a long-legged, freckled-faced, tow-headed youth of twenty, who, as usual, was sprawled along the settee by the wall, engrossed in a paper covered dime novel.
There were fresh-faced girls, and sweet, freckled-faced girls, and jolly girls, and shy girls all sorts of girls except sulky, "toney" girls and lanky chaps, most of them sawney, and weird, whiskered agriculturists, who watched the dancers with old, old time-worn smiles, or stood, or sat on their heels yarning, with their pipes, outside, where two boilers were slung over a log-fire to boil water for tea; and there were leathery women, with complexions like dried apples, who gossiped for the first time in months perhaps and watched the young people, and thought at times, no doubt, of other days of other days when they were girls.
And now for Molly Pitcher, who, unsung and almost unremembered, should nevertheless share in the honours heaped so liberally upon the Spanish and English heroines. 'A red-haired, freckled-faced young Irishwoman, without beauty and without distinction, she was the newly-wedded wife of an artilleryman in Washington's little army.
The first scout to show real signs of recovery was a thin, lanky, freckled-faced hero of unheroic appearance, who spoke in a jerky fashion peculiarly his own. "Help!" he cried. "Help! Mother! Why'd my pa let me come to this wild place? Injuns! Robbers! Help!" "Oh, shut up, Chick-chick," cried a small boy. "You'll have 'em coming back."
But when business slackened a little, our hero was destined to be reminded of it. Among the down-town boot-blacks was one hailing from the Five Points, a stout, red-haired, freckled-faced boy of fourteen, bearing the name of Micky Maguire.
He once told me that he thought his fame for one generation, at least, was secure, inasmuch as one-half of the freckled-faced boys and two-thirds of the "yaller" dogs in North Carolina had been named in his honor.
She might not have accomplished it if he had not come to the rescue with two boys, one Tim Biggs, the other a tall, freckled-faced, light-haired fellow whom Jack greeted as Tom, saying, "Can you manage to find a good position for Miss Smith?"
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