head if he hadna them to think for and to talk to."

"How much answer do ye think he gets to his talkin', lass?" laughed
Duncan.

"He gets the answer that keeps the eye bright, the heart happy, and the
feet walking faithful the rough path he's set them in," answered Mrs.
Duncan earnestly.

Duncan walked away appearing very thoughtful. The next morning he gave
an ear from the corn he was shelling for his chickens to Freckles, and
told him to carry it to his wild chickens in the Limberlost. Freckles
laughed delightedly.

"Me chickens!" he said. "Why didn't I ever think of that before? Of
course they are! They are just little, brightly colored cocks and hens!
But 'wild' is no good. What would you say to me 'wild chickens' being a
good deal tamer than yours here in your yard?"

"Hoot, lad!" cried Duncan.

"Make yours light on your head and eat out of your hands and pockets,"
challenged Freckles.

"Go and tell your fairy tales to the wee people! They're juist brash on
believin' things," said Duncan. "Ye canna invent any story too big to
stop them from callin' for a bigger."

"I dare you to come see!" retorted Freckles.