"Don't scowl, I'll be good.

I won't say it.

You'll supply the word, in two months!" He let the pony have his way, and was off in a clatter.

Lonely, fuming with resentment, Rudolph stared after him.

What could he know, this airy, unfeeling meddler, so free with his advice and innuendo?
Let him go, then, let him canter away.