Excerpt from Red Horse Hill He took his eyes, with pardonable reluctance, from his wife's laughing, upturned face, and gazed out on the world again, a world soaked up with yellow sunshine, caught under an inverted bowl of blue glaze. Except for your assurance and the date on the morning paper, I would believe it to be May, he told her. Oh, there is no real sunshine anywhere in America except here, in my South, she vaunted. One would have thought from her manner that the credit Of the perfect morning lay entirely at her door. She leaned her dark head against him, speaking in a lower tone. These are the days that one remembers, these little, herald days Of spring, that run out from under the coop, as it were, while Old prisoned winter clucks and frets. They are the dearest ones of all. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.