"On a hot summer night I saw the boy wandering enveloped in flames on his scontento.Erano lightning flashes against clouds, and waves upon waves of shadows in the valley, resonator until the bushes barking of his hounds for hunting, and forest trails crowded his knights in arms race to all the fumes river ... his work, of course, that magic.
I followed the boy, driven by leaps and flashes of fire of its discontent fatuous, and oh, how I suffered for him, how I suffered! Kicking, prancing like a young bull in a pasture unknown ... at times just to ... sometimes collapsed to the chest between his ghost dog ... sometimes the head of his ghost riders on a horse-winged hawk to come to the aid of his ghost girls.
I never said that it had a similar spell, but is often the case with boys
Rudyard Kipling
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