CHAPTER FOUR - June - the month of love. Month when the very air is saturated with love, it fills my lungs and warms up the loins. - Inhaling the afternoon breeze, on which blond hair scattered on his forehead, William pulled the reins, turning his horse to a trot. - Father! - I shouted Kimball associated the occasion with his father and thrown off the horse jerked away from the forest path. - You're so naedesh me. - Well, you're urged on his pony, - retorted the father slapping his son on the mare oak cane. Silent protest her son could not interrupt the course of his thoughts, and he continued: - In June, the lambs are born, a life with renewed vigor rushes forward. Breathe in the scent of flowers! Breathe in the smell of fresh grass! Even the grass is transformed into a carpet of love, generously offering herself beloved, despite the fact that their embrace will leave their mark on it.