Sophie May

“ Grace embraced everybody twice over; but Horace was a little shy, and would only give what his aunties called "canary kisses."
"Margaret, I want you to give me that darling baby this minute," said Mrs. Parlin, wiping her eyes. "Now you can bring the butter out of the cellar: it's all there is to be done, except to set the tea on the table."
Then grandma Parlin had another cry over little Katie: not such a strange thing, for she could not help thinking of Harry, the baby with sad eyes and pale face, who had been sick there all the summer before, and was now an angel. ”

“ With his own hands, and the help of Grasshopper, who did little but hold the nails and look on, Horace made a box for Pincher, while Abner dug his grave under a tree in the grove.
It was evening when they all followed Pincher to his last resting-place.
"He was a sugar-plum of a dog," said Prudy, "and I can't help crying."
"I don't want to help it," said Grace; "we ought to cry."
"What makes me feel the worst," said sober little Susy, "he won't go to heaven." ”

“ Horace looked distressed; his face began to twist itself out of shape.
"This very boy has a good many pieces of silver which were given him to buy fire-crackers. So you see, if he is truly sorry for his fault, he knows the way to atone for it."
Horace's conscience told him, by a twinge, that it would be no more than just for him to pay what he could for mending the watch. ”

“ The sky and earth were very lovely that evening, and it seemed as if everybody ought to be heart-glad. I doubt if Horace had ever thought before what a beautiful world he lived in, and how glorious a thing it is to be alive! He could run about and do what he pleased with himself; but alas, poor Pincher! ”

“ Horace really believed the dog understood him, and many were the secrets he had poured into his faithful ears. Pincher would listen, and wink, and wag his tail, but was sure to keep everything to himself.
"I tell you what it is, Pincher," Horace burst forth, "I'm not going to have you die! My own pa gave you to me, and you're the best dog that ever lived in this world. O, I didn't mean to catch your foot in that trap! Eat the chicken, there's a good fellow, and we'll cure you all up." ”

“ Grasshopper, who had only hidden behind the trees, now came out and joined the boys.
"Wampum," as he chose to be called, led them back to Mr. Parlin's grounds, to the lower end of the garden, where stood some tall silver poplars, on which the Indians had looked with longing eyes.
"Me shin them trees," said Wampum; "me make you basket."
"Would you let him, Grasshopper?"
"Yes, indeed; your grandfather won't care."
"Perhaps he might; you don't know," said Horace, who, after he had asked advice, was far from feeling obliged to take it. ”

“ Horace whittled out a handsome steamboat, with green pipes, and the figure-head of an old man's face carved in wood. But Horace thought the face looked like Prudy's, and named the steamboat "The Prudy." He also broke open his savings-bank, and begged his mother to lay out all the money he had in presents for the sick soldiers.
"Horace has a kind and loving heart," said Margaret to Louise. "To be sure he won't keep still long enough to let anybody kiss him, but he really loves his parents dearly." ”

“ Without speaking, Horace gave his hand to his sister, and went with her while their grandmother followed, carrying the bowl of gruel.
At the door of Mrs. Clifford's room they [Pg 124] met aunt Louise coming out. The sight of Horace and Grace walking tearfully, hand in hand, was very touching to her.
"You dear little fatherless children," she whispered, throwing her arms around them both, and dropping tears and kisses on their faces.
"O, I can't, I can't bear it," cried Grace; "my own dear papa, that I love best of any one in all the world!" ”

“ 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. ”

“ Clifford and his wife looked at each other across the table, and smiled.
"O, papa," said Grace, "I shouldn't want [Pg 16] to be a soldier if I couldn't have anything nice to eat. Can't they get pies and canned peaches and things? Will they go without buckwheat cakes and sirup in the winter?"
"Ah! my little daughter, men who love their country are willing to make greater sacrifices than merely nice food."
Horace put on one of his lofty looks, for he somehow felt that his father was praising him. ”

“ Horace was about to say; but remembering his adventure in Cleveland, he drowned the words in a long whistle.
They kept on up the steep hill for some distance, and then struck off into the forest. The straight pine trees stood up solemn and stiff. Instead of tender leaves, they bristled all over with dark green "needles." They had no blessings of birds' nests in their [Pg 104] branches; yet they gave out a pleasant odor, which the boys said was "nice."
"But they aren't so splendid, Peter, as our trees out west—don't begin! They grow so big you can't chop 'em down. I'll leave it to Pincher!" ”

“ Peter had once eaten a piece of bear-steak, or it might have been moose-meat, he was not sure which; but at any rate it [Pg 114] had been brought down from Moosehead Lake.
"Bears 'round here?" thought Horace, in a fright.
He quickened his pace. O, if he could only be sure it was the right road! Perhaps they were walking straight into a den of bears. He hugged little Pincher close in his arms, soothing him with pet names; for the poor dog continued to moan.
"O, dear, dear!" cried Peter, "don't you feel awfully?"
"I don't stop to think of my feelings," replied Horace, shortly. ”

“ O, Horace, don't you [Pg 8] want to be an angel, and play on a beautiful harp?"
"I don't know," said her brother, knitting his brows, and thinking a moment; "when I can't live any longer, you know, then I'd like to go up to heaven; but now, I'd a heap sooner be a soldier!"
"O, Horace, you'd ought to rather be an angel! Besides, you're too little for a soldier!"
"But I grow. Just look at my hands; they're bigger than yours, this minute!"
"Why, Horace Clifford, what makes them so black?"
"O, that's no account! I did it climbin' trees. Barby tried to scour it off, but it sticks. ”

“ 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." [Pg 35]
Mr. Lazelle would reply, "O, certainly, madam; be quite easy about the child; he is not out of my sight for a moment!"
So saying, perhaps he would go in search of him, and find him under a seat playing with Pincher, his clothes covered with dust, and his cap lying between somebody's feet. ”

“ And that very afternoon they both went blackberrying with Susy and aunt Madge. They had a delightful time. Horace could not help missing Pincher very much: still, in spite of the regret, it was a happier day than the one he and Peter Grant had spent "in the Pines." He was beginning to find, as all children do, how hard it is to get up [Pg 168] "a good time" when you are pricked by a guilty conscience, and how easy it is to be happy when you are doing right. ”

“ Horace felt so much pleased with his new companion, that he resolved to treat him to a watermelon. So, without saying a word to the boys, he ran into the house to ask his grandmother.
"What! a whole watermelon, Horace?"
"Yes, grandma, we three; me, and Grasshopper, and Wampum." [Pg 158]
Mrs. Parlin could not help smiling to see how suddenly Horace had adopted a new friend.
"You may have a melon, but I think your mother would not like to have you play much with a strange boy."
"He's going to make me a splendid basket; and besides, aren't Indians and negroes as good as white folks? ”

“ It is always unsafe to tell even joyful news too suddenly; but Louise's thoughtlessness had not done so much harm as they all feared. Mrs. Clifford recovered from the shock, and in an hour or two was wonderfully calm, looking so perfectly happy that it was delightful just to gaze at her face.
She wanted the pleasure of telling the [Pg 181] children the story with her own lips. Grace was fairly wild with joy, kissing everybody, and declaring it was "too good for anything." She was too happy to keep still, while as for Horace, he was too happy to talk. ”

“ What did grandma say? Did aunt Madge hear her?"
"Yes, aunt Madge heard her, and she said she always knew Horace would be a good boy if he would only think."
"Well, I do think," replied Horace, looking very much pleased; "I think about all the time."
"But then, Horace, you know how you've acted some days!"
"Well, I don't care. Aunt Madge says 'tisn't so easy for boys to be good."
Grace opened her round blue eyes in wonder.
"Why, Horace, I have to make my own [Pg 130] bed, and sweep and dust my room, and take care of my drawers. Only think of that; and Prudy always round into things, you know! ”

“ The hard, uncomfortable stage, which Horace had said was like a baby-jumper, would never do for a sick man to ride in: so Billy Green had driven to the cars in his easiest carriage, and aunt Madge had gone [Pg 183] with him, for she was afraid neither Billy nor the gentleman who was with Captain Clifford would know how to wrap the shawls about him carefully enough.
I could never describe the joyful meeting which took place in those brilliantly lighted parlors. It is very rarely that such wonderful happiness falls to any one's lot in this world. ”

“ All this while Pincher's foot was growing no better. Aunt Louise said you could almost see the poor dog 'dwindle, peak, and pine.'
"But it's only his hurt," said Grace; "'tisn't a sickness."
"I reckon," returned Horace, sadly, "it isn't a wellness, neither." [Pg 136]
"Why not send for Mrs. Duffy?" suggested aunt Madge. "If any one can help the poor creature, it is she."
Mrs. Duffy was the village washerwoman, and a capital nurse. It was an anxious moment for little Horace, when she unwrapped the crushed paw, Pincher moaning all the while in a way that went to the heart. ”

“ Clifford was made unhappy by Horace, who should have been a comfort to her. It was sad, indeed; for never did a kind mother try harder to "train up a child" in the right way.
It did not take Horace a great while to [Pg 73] renew his acquaintance with the schoolboys, who all seemed to look upon him as a sort of curiosity.
"I never knew before," laughed little Dan Rideout, "that my name was Dan-yell!"
"He calls a pail a bucket, and a dipper a tin-kup," said Gilbert Brown.
"Yes," chimed in Willy Snow, "and he asks, 'Is school took up?' just as if it was knitting-work that was on needles." ”

“ Clifford, with a good-natured laugh, which made Horace wince a little. "But the eating of dry bread is only a small part of the soldier's tough times, my boy. Soldiers have to sleep on the hard ground, with knapsacks for pillows; they have to march, through wet and dry, with heavy muskets, which make their arms ache."
"Look here, Barby," said Horace, that evening; "I want a knapsack, to learn to be a soldier with. If I have 'tough times' now, I'll get used to it. Can't you find my carpet-bag, Barby?" ”

“ They are wrong who say that little children cannot receive lasting impressions. There are some hours of joy or agony which they never forget. This was such an hour for Horace. He could almost feel again on his forehead the warm good-by kisses of his father ”

“ What makes you ask so many questions?"
Upon that the boys went to work picking boxberry leaves, which grew at the roots of the pine trees, among the soft moss and last year's cones. Horace was very anxious to gather enough for some beer; but it was strange how many it took to fill such "enormous big baskets."
"Now," said Horace, "I move we look over yonder for some wintergreen. You said you knew it by sight."
"Wintergreen? wintergreen?" echoed Peter: "O, yes, I know it well enough. It spangles 'round. See, here's some; the girls make wreaths of it." ”

“ Clifford sent for Grace to go up stairs and amuse the poor baby, who could not be rocked to sleep.
For a few moments after she had gone [Pg 39] Horace stood near the door, still gazing into the street, when, suddenly, he heard a faint sound of martial music: a brass band was turning the corner. Soon they were in sight, men in handsome uniform, drawing music from various instruments, picking, blowing, or beating it out, as the case might be. ”

“ I don't care—soldiers' hands ain't white, are they, Pincher?"
The pretty dog at Horace's feet shook his ears, meaning to say, [Pg 9] —
"I should think not, little master; soldiers have very dirty hands, if you say so."
"Come," said Grace, who was tired of gazing at the far-off star-land; "let's go down and see if Barbara hasn't made that candy: she said she'd be ready in half an hour."
They went into the library, which opened upon the balcony, through the passage, down the front stairs, and into the kitchen, Pincher following close at their heels. ”

“ You don't act like a little gentleman! What would pa say?"
"Why couldn't I have the big front chamber?" said the little boy, shuffling his feet, and looking down at his shoes.
"Because," said aunt Madge, smiling, "that is for your mother and the baby." [Pg 58]
"But if I could have this little cunning room, I'd go a flyin'. Grace ain't company any more than me."
Aunt Madge remembered Horace's hit-or-miss way of using things, and thought of the elephant that once walked into a china shop.
Grace laughed aloud.
"Why, Horace Clifford, you'd make the room look like everything; you know you would! ”

“ Grace was often in tears, and said,—
"We can't any of us live, if pa goes to the war."
But when Horace could not help crying, he always said it was because he "had the earache," and perhaps he thought it was.
Mrs. Clifford tried to be cheerful, for she was a patriotic woman; but she could not trust her voice to talk a great deal, or sing much to the baby.
As for Barbara Kinckle, she scrubbed the floors, and scoured the tins, harder than ever, looking all the while as if every one of her friends was dead and buried. The [Pg 30] family were to break up housekeeping, and Barbara was very sorry. ”