Boys -- Juvenile fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
It was a sad day when Mr. Clifford bade good by to his family. His last
words to Horace were these: "Always obey your mother, my boy, and
remember that God sees all you do."
He was now "Captain Clifford," and went away at the head of his company,
looking like, what he really was, a brave and noble gentleman.
Grace wondered if he ever thought of the bright new buttons on his coat;
and Horace walked about among his school-fellows with quite an air,
very proud of being the son of a man who either was now, or was going to
be, the greatest officer in Indiana!
If any body else had shown as much self-esteem as Horace did, the boys
would have said he had "the _big_ head." When Yankee children think a
playmate conceited, they call him "stuck up;" but Hoosier children say
he has "the _big_ head." No one spoke in this way of Horace, however,
for there was something about him which made everybody like him, in
spite of his faults.
He loved his play-fellows, and they loved him, and were sorry enough to
have him go away; though, perhaps, they did not shed so many tears as
Grace's little mates, who said, "they never'd have any more good times:
they didn't mean to try."
Mrs. Clifford, too, left many warm friends, and it is safe to say, that
on the morning the family started for the east, there were a great many
people "crying their hearts out of their eyes." Still, I believe no one
sorrowed more sincerely than faithful Barbara Kinckle.
CHAPTER III.
TAKING A JOURNEY.
It was a great effort for Mrs. Clifford to take a journey to Maine with
three children; but she needed the bracing air of New England, and so
did Grace and the baby.
To be sure they had the company of a gentleman who was going to Boston;
but he was a very young man indeed, who thought a great deal more of his
new mustache than he did of trunks, and checks, and tickets.
Twenty times a day Mrs. Clifford wished her husband could have gone with
her before he enlisted, for she hardly knew what to do with restless
little Horace. As for sitting still, it was more than the boy could do.
He would keep jerking his inquisitive little head out of the window, for
he never remembered a caution five minutes. He delighted to run up and
down the narrow aisle, and, putting his hands on the arms of the seats,
swing backward and forward with all his might. He became acquainted with
every lozenge-boy and every newspaper-boy on the route, and seemed to be
in a high state of merriment from morning till night.
Grace, who was always proper and well-behaved, was not a little
mortified by Horace's rough manners.
"He means no harm," Mrs. Clifford would say, with a smile and a sigh;
"but, Mr. Lazelle, if you will be so kind as to watch him a little, I
will be greatly obliged."
Mr. Lazelle would reply, "O, certainly, madam; be quite easy about the
child; he is not out of my sight for a moment!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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