rden fence and hooked a bunch of red
tulips and yellow daffodils. The red was at Jo's ear, and the yellow
at Ned's, and they did look fine. So did he! Big, strong, clean, a
red flower in his floppy straw hat band; and after he drove through the
gate, he began a shrill, fifelike whistle you could have heard a half
mile:

"See the merry farmer boy, tramp the meadows through,
Swing his hoe in careless joy, while dashing off the dew.
Bobolink in maple high, trills a note of glee,
Farmer boy in gay reply now whistles cheerily."

The chorus was all whistle, and it was written for folks who could. It
went up until it almost split the echoes, and Laddie could easily sail
a measure above the notes. He did it too. As for me, I kept from
sight. For a week Laddie whistled and plowed. He wore that tune
threadbare, and got an almost continuous pucker on his lips. Leon said
if he didn't stop whistling, and sing more, the girls would think he
was doing a prunes and prisms stunt. So after that he sang the words,
and whistled the chorus. But he made no excuse to go, and he didn't
go, to Pryors'. When Sunday came, he went to Westchester to see
Elizabeth, and stayed until Monday morning. Not once that week did the
Princess ride past our house, or her father either. By noon Monday
Laddie was back in the field, and I had all I could bear. He was
neither whistling nor singing so much now, because he was away at the
south end, where he couldn't be seen or heard at Pryors'. He almost
scoured the skin from him, and he wore his gloves more carefully than
usual. If he soiled his clothing in the least, and it looked as if he
would make more than his share of work, he washed the extra pieces at
night.

Tuesday morning I hurried with all my might, and then I ran to the
field where he was. I climbed on the fence, sat there until he came
up, and then I gave him some cookies. He stopped the horses, climbed
beside me and ate them. Then he put his arms around me and hugged me
tight.

"Laddie, do you know I did it?" I wailed.

"Did you now?" said Laddie. "No, I didn't know for sure, but I had
suspicions. You always have had such a fondness for that particular
piece of tinware."

"But Laddie, it means so much!"

"Doesn't it?" said Laddie. "A few days ago no one could have convinced
me that it meant anything at all to me, or ever could. Just look at me
now!"

"Don't joke, Laddie! Something must be done."

"Wel