I'm not the sort of human that goes wading to his chin in lights and shades and dim perspectives, and names every tone he can think of--especially mauve; they do go it strong on mauve--before he's through.
But I did lift my hat to that dimply green reach of prairie, and thanked God I was there.
I turned toward the hill that hid the town, and there came Frosty driving the same disreputable rig that had taken me first to the Bay State.
I dropped my suit-case and gripped his hand almost before he had pulled up at the platform.

Lord! but I was glad to see that thin, brown face of his.
"Looks like we'd got to be afflicted with your presence another summer," he grinned.

"I hope yuh ain't going to claim I coaxed yuh back, because I took particular pains not to.

And, uh course, the boys are just dreading the sight of yuh.

Where's your war-bag, darn yuh ?" How was that for a greeting?
It suited me, all right.