"That's sound advice for everybody," said aunt Madge, stroking her
little nephew's hair. "If children always remembered it, they would get
along more pleasantly together--I know they would."

Grace had been looking ill all the morning, and her mother now saw
symptoms of a chill. With all her tender anxiety she had not known how
tired her little daughter was. It was two or three weeks before the
child was rested; and whenever she had a chill, which was every third
day for a while, she was delirious, and kept crying out,--

"O, do see to Horace, mamma! Mr. Lazelle will forget! O, Horace, now
_don't_ let go my hand! I've got the bundles, mamma, and the milk for
the baby."

And sometimes Mrs. Clifford would call Horace to come and take his
sister's hand, just to assure her that he was not lying cold and dead in
the waters of Lake Erie. It was really touching to see how heavily the
cares of the journey had weighed on the dear girl's youthful spirits.

CHAPTER V.

CAPTAIN OF A COMPANY.

At first Mrs. Clifford thought she did not care about having the
children go to school, as they had been kept at their studies for nearly
nine months without a vacation, except Christmas holidays.

But what was to be done with Horace? Aunt Louise, who was not
passionately fond of children, declared her trials were greater than she
could bear. Grace was a little tidy, she thought; but as for Horace, and
his dog Pincher, and the "calico kitty," which he had picked up for a
pet!--Louise disliked dogs and despised kittens. Sometimes, as she told
Margaret, she felt as if she should certainly fly; sometimes she was
sure she was going crazy; and then again it seemed as if her head would
burst into a thousand pieces.

None of these dreadful accidents happened, it is true; but a great many
other things did. Hammers, nails, and augers were carried off, and left
to rust in the dew. A cup of green paint, which for months had stood
quietly on an old shelf in the store-room, was now taken down and
stirred with a stick, and all the toys which Horace whittled out were
stained green, and set in the sun to dry. A pair of cheese-tongs, which
hung in the back room, a boot-jack, the washing-bench, which was once
red,--all became green in a very short time: only the red of the bench
had a curious effect, peeping out from its light and ragged coat of
green.

The blue sled which belonged to Susy and Prudy was brought down from the
shed-chamber, a