She had a hot drink ready for him when he came from a freezing day on the trail.

She knit him a heavy mitten for his left hand, and devised a way to sew and pad the right sleeve that protected the maimed arm in bitter weather.

She patched his clothing--frequently torn by the wire--and saved kitchen scraps for his birds, not because she either knew or cared anything about them, but because she herself was close enough to the swamp to be touched by its utter loneliness.
When Duncan laughed at her for this, she retorted: "My God, mannie, if Freckles hadna the birds and the beasts he would be always alone.

It was never meant for a human being to be so solitary.

He'd get touched in the 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.