"Good-by. From your son,
"Horace P. Clifford.
"P.S. Ma bought me the soldier-clothes. I thank you."
About this time Mrs. Clifford was trying to put together a barrel of nice things to send to her husband. Grandma and aunt Madge baked a great many loaves of cake and hundreds of cookies, and put in cans of fruit and boxes of jelly wherever there was room. Aunt Louise made a nice little dressing-case of bronze kid, lined with silk, and Grace made a pretty pen-wiper and pin-ball. 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."
"Well, he's a terrible try-patience," said Louise.
"Wait a while! He is wilful and naughty, but he never tells wrong stories. I think there's hope of a boy who scorns a lie! See if he doesn't come out right, Louise. Why, I expect to be proud of our Horace one of these days!"