But, Freckles, there was never a place anywhere in the Limberlost, or in the whole world, where the thistledown floated and sprang up and blossomed into white lilies! Thistles grow from thistles, and lilies from other lilies.

Dear Freckles, think hard! You must see it! You are a lily, straight through.
You never, never could have drifted from the thistle-patch.
"Where did you find the courage to go into the Limberlost and face its terrors?
You inherited it from the blood of a brave father, dear heart.
Where did you get the pluck to hold for over a year a job that few men would have taken at all?
You got it from a plucky mother, you bravest of boys.

You attacked single-handed a man almost twice your size, and fought as a demon, merely at the suggestion that you be deceptive and dishonest.

Could your mother or your father have been untruthful?
Here you are, so hungry and starved that you are dying for love.

Where did you get all that capacity for loving?
You didn't inherit it from hardened, heartless people, who would disfigure you and purposely leave you to die, that's one sure thing.