He also, I think, was dying for a frolic. Young minds in trouble as well as hard-worked bodies need a holiday now and then. He winked at me and chinked the shillings in his bullet-pouch.
"We shall see all the sights," quoth he, "and the Kennyetto could not quench my thirst today, nor our two horses eat as much, nor since time began could all the lovers in history love as much as could I this April day.... Were there some pretty wench of my own mind to use me kindly.... Like that one who smiled at us—do you remember?"
"At Christmas?"
"That's the one!" he exclaimed. "Lord! but she was handsome in her sledge!—and her sister, too, Jack."
"I forget their names," said I.
"Browse," he said, "—Jessica and Betsy. And they live at Pigeon-Wood near Mayfield."
"Oho!" said I, "you have made their acquaintance!"
He laughed and we galloped on.
Nick sang in his saddle, beating time upon his thigh with his fife:
"Flammadiddle!
Paddadiddle!
Flammadiddle dandy!
My Love's kisses
Are sweet as sugar-candy!
Flammadiddle!
Paddadiddle!
Flammadiddle dandy!
She makes fun o' me
Because my legs are bandy——"