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Various

"Original Pieces in Prose and Verse"

The wind fanned his brow awhile, lifted his dark
locks, and, leaving a kiss behind, stole out at the casement,--the
gentle south-wind! Then he met a little child: away he whirled the
little boy's hat, away ran the child, but his little feet were tired,
and he wept,--poor child! The wind looked back, and felt sad, then
hung the hat on a bush, and went on. He had played too hard,--the
thoughtless south-wind! A sick child lay tossing to and fro: its hands
and face were hot and dry. The mother raised the window. The wind
heard her as he was creeping by, and stepping in, he cooled the
burning face: then, playing among the flowers until their fragrance
filled the room, away he flew,--the kind south-wind! He went out into
the highway, and played with the dust; but that was not so pleasant,
and onward he sped to the meadow. The dust could not follow on the
green grass, and the little south-wind soon outstripped it, and onward
and onward he sped, over mountain and valley, dancing among the
flowers, and frolicking round, until the trees lifted up their arms
and bent their heads and shook their sides with glee,--the happy
south-wind! At last he came to a quiet dell, where a little brook lay,
just stirring among his white pebbles. The wind said, "Kind brook,
will you play with me?" And the brook answered with a sparkling smile,
and a gentle murmur.


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