Then the north wind said:
“I am willing to be friends again. It is true that the spring is your time, gentle south wind; I will not stay to nip your opening flowers, but will fly away to my cold home.”
And the south wind said:
“Forgive me if I was rude, brother. When November shall come once more, I will leave the fields and woods to you. Take this sprig of evergreen to remember me by, and may it not fade till we meet again! Farewell!”
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 172, “lookod” changed to “looked” (Peter looked around the)