Long ere we had reached York Ferry I had found that there was much in common between the Scots trader and the Virginian cavalier, and the chief thing we shared was youth.
Mine, to be sure, was more in the heart, while Grey wore his open and fearless.

He plucked the summer flowers and set them in his hat.

He was full of catches and glees, so that he waked the echoes in the forest glades.

Soon I, too, fell to singing in my tuneless voice, and I answered his "My lodging is on the cold ground" with some Scots ballad or a song of Davie Lindsay.

I remember how sweetly he sang Colonel Lovelace's ode to Lucasta, writ when going to the wars:-- "True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield." "Yet this inconstancy is such As thou too shalt adore: I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more." I wondered if that were my case--if I rode out for honour, and not for the pure pleasure of the riding.