Then a wave of uncontrollable tenderness moved him so he hobbled to his bombardment once more.

He faced her squarely this time, and turned his head from side to side with queer little jerks and indiscriminate peckings at her wings and head, and smirkings that really should have been irresistible.
She yawned and shuffled away indifferently.

Freckles reached up, pulled the quill from his hat, and looking from it to the birds, nodded in settled conviction.
"So you're me black angels, ye spalpeens! No wonder you didn't get in! But I'll back you to come closer it than any other birds ever did.

You fly higher than I can see.

Have you picked the Limberlost for a good thing and come to try it?
Well, you can be me chickens if you want to, but I'm blest if you ain't cool for new ones.