an Idyll. by Wilson Korges

Riding though the green of woods, parting the trees now, comes the Prince and a proudly liveried entourage of only two. The firs there are not packed tightly together, so the riding there is easy, somewhat exhilarating—and there is just enough foliage to get lost in; branches, so that one or two are sure to brush the cheek and leave it stinging lightly with life.
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