Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The Angel" are full of real sentiment.
h consisted of a big, shimmering diamond stone of ice and fire that glittered and burned on one of his fingers, and the dainty, beautiful thoroughbred mare he rode between camps and across the country on business.
No man of McLean's gangs could honestly say that he ever had been overdriven or underpaid. The Boss never had exacted any deference from his men, yet so intense was his personality that no man of them ever had attempted a familiarity. They all knew him to be a thorough gentleman, and that in the great timber city several millions stood to his credit.
He was the only son of that McLean who had sent out the finest ships ever built in Scotland. That his son should carry on this business after the father's death had been his ambition. He had sent the boy through the universities of Oxford and Edinburgh, and allowed him several years' travel before he should attempt his first commission for the firm.
Then he was ordered to southern Canada and Michigan to purchase a consignment of tall, strai
I loved this book as a child, & I was delighted to find it here. This is a coming-of-age tale as well as a love story.
Freckles is a "nameless" (i.e. supposedly illegitimate) boy looking for a place to belong & an identity of his own rather than the "poor damaged foundling" one he's grown up with.
I remembered this as a lovely story; in rereading it I discovered that Gene Stratton Porter was "green"; trying to warn against destroying wilderness areas & fighting against Irish stereotypes prevalent at the time.
Saying that, sometimes people want to read "just a nice story" & this is a fine one.
Dumb story about a naïf waif cum forester cum lover cum heir who makes big lonely circles around a forest in order to guard some dumb valuable trees and thereby, quite bafflingly, earn the enduring paternal love of his employer. Too many words spent in adulation of plants and birds (for my taste, anyway).
Gene Stratton-Porter was ecology-minded long before most of us ever even thought in terms of ecology. She writes of the Limberlost which was a wetlands in northern Indiana. In "Freckles", she tells the story of a young man, damaged physically, who becomes the better man in Horation Alger-style through pluck, determination, and honesty. "Freckles" gives us not only the story and romance of this boy and his "Swamp Angel", but delights us with the vision of the wildlife and the plantlife of a struggling, at-risk natural resource.
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