She wondered if her secret purpose had been divined.

But Sharon apparently was engrossed by other matters than the descent into frivolity of one who had long been austere.
"Well," he said, beaming on her, "our boy is going over." Winona was relieved.
"Yes, he's off, but he'll come back safe." "Oh, I know that! Nothing could hurt him, but I'll miss the skeesicks." He ruminated, then said pridefully: "That boy is what my son would have been if I'd had one.

You can't tell me any son of my get and raising would have talked about his reactions when this time come!" Winona winced ever so slightly at this way of putting it, but smiled valiantly.
"Publishing magazines full of slander about George Washington, and this new kind of stubby-ended poetry!" "It is very different from Tennyson," said Winona.
"The other one's a man," went on Sharon.

"You remember when you was worried because he wouldn't settle down to anything?
Well, you watch him from now on! He hasn't got the book knowledge, but he's got a fine outdoors education, and that's the kind we need most.

Don't you see that fine look in his eye--afraid of nothing, knowing how to do most anything?
His is the kind makes us a great country--outdoor boys from the little towns and farms.