He shot back answers as fast as they could ask questions, while he cut the branch and untied the horse.

He gave the limb and basket to mother to hold, kissed her good-bye, and me too, before he mounted.
With my arms around his neck--I never missed a chance to try to squeeze into him how I loved him--I whispered: "Laddie, is it a secret any more ?" He threw back his head and laughed the happiest.
"Not the ghost of a secret!" he said.

"But you let me do the talking, until I tell you." Then he went on right out loud: "I'm riding up the road waving the banner of peace.

If I suffer repulse, the same thing has happened to better men before, so I'll get a different banner and try again." Laddie mounted, swept a circle in the road, dropped Flos on her knees in a bow, and waved the branch.

Leon began to sing at the top of his voice, "Nothing but leaves, nothing but leaves," while Laddie went flashing up the road.
The women went back to the house; the men stood around the gate, watched him from sight, talked about his horse, how he rode, and made wagers that he'd get shut out, like every one did, but they said if that happened he wouldn't come back.