Old Applehead Furrman jogging home across the mesa from Albuquerque sniffed the soft breeze that came from opal-tinted distances and felt poignantly that spring was indeed here. The grass thick and green in the sheltered places was fast painting all the higher ridges and foot-hill slopes and with the green grass came the lank-bodied big-kneed calves; which meant that. roundup time was at hand. (Excerpt) --This text refers to the Paperback edition.
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