s to the gate
you could see the shadow of your face on her shining flank; her mane
and tail were like ravelled silk, her hoofs bright as polished horn,
and her muzzle was clean as a ribbon. I broke one of those rank green
sprouts from the snowball bush and brushed away the flies, so she
wouldn't fret, stamp, and throw dust on herself. Then Laddie came,
fresh from a tubbing, starched linen, dressed in his new riding suit,
and wearing top hat and gauntlets. He looked the very handsomest I
ever had seen him; and at the same time, he seemed trembling with
tenderness, and bursting with power. Goodness sake! I bet the
Princess took one good look and "came down" like Davy Crockett's coon.
Mother was on his arm and she walked clear to the gate with him.

"LADDIE, ARE YOU SURE ENOUGH TO GO?" I heard her ask him whisper-like.

"SURE AS DEATH!" Laddie answered.

Mother looked, and she had to see how it was with him; no doubt she saw
more than I did from having been through it herself, so she smiled kind
of a half-sad, half-glad smile. Then she turned to her damask rose
bush, the one Lucy brought her from the city, and that she was so
precious about, that none of us dared touch it, and she searched all
over it and carefully selected the most perfect rose. When she
borrowed Laddie's knife and cut the stem as long as my arm, I knew
exactly how great and solemn the occasion was; for always before about
six inches had been her limit. She held it toward him, smiling bravely
and beautifully, but the tears were running straight down her cheeks.

"Take it to her," she said. "I think, my son, it is very like."

Laddie took her in his arms and wiped away the tears; he told her
everything would come out all right about God, and the mystery, even.
Then he picked me clear off the ground, and he tried to see how near he
could come to cracking every bone in my body without really doing it,
and he kissed me over and over. It hadn't been so easy, but I guess
you'll admit that paid. Then he rode away with the damask rose waving
over his heart. Mother and I stood beside the hitching rack and looked
after him, with our arms tight around each other while we tried to see
which one could bawl the hardest.

CHAPTER XVI

The Homing Pigeon

"A millstone and the human heart,
Are ever driven round,
And if they've nothing else to grind,
They must themselves be ground."

It seemed to me that my mother was the person who r