Harold, filled with exaltation by every familiar thing--by the flights of ground sparrows, by the patches of green grass, by the smell of the wind, by the infrequent boom of the prairie chickens--talked incessantly.
"What makes me maddest," he broke out, "is to think they've cheated me out of seeing one fall and one winter.

I didn't see the geese fly south, and now here they are all going north again.

Some time I mean to find out where they go to." He took off his hat.

"This wind will mighty soon take the white out o' me, won't it ?" He was very gay.

He slapped his chum on the shoulder and shouted with excitement.