The south wind brings the microbe along with it, and it multiplies in the warm earth.

Gee! It makes even an old feller like me poetical.

After six months of winter it's hell!" Still Ambrose kept his eyes down and said nothing.
Peter smoked on, and his eyes became reminiscent.

"I mind it well," he continued, "the second spring I was in the country.

The first year I didn't notice it so much, but the second year--when the warm weather come I was like a wild man.