Page:Al Que Quiere.djvu/29

  and sure the return in May!

We walked in your father's grove and saw the great oaks lying with roots ripped from the ground. 

M. B. Winter has spent this snow out of envy, but spring is here! He sits at the breakfast table in his yellow hair and disdains even the sun walking outside in spangled slippers:

He looks out: there is a glare of lights before a theater,— a sparkling lady passes quickly to the seclusion of her carriage. Presently under the dirty, wavy heaven of a borrowed room he will make 