CHAPTER II.
CAMPING OUT.
"What is the matter with my little son?" said Mr. Clifford, one morning at breakfast; for Horace sat up very stiffly in his chair, and refused both eggs and muffins, choosing instead a slice of dry toast and a glass of water.
"Are you sick, Horace?" asked his mother, tenderly.
"No, ma'am," replied the boy, blushing; "but I want to get to be a soldier!"
Mr. Clifford and his wife looked at each other across the table, and smiled.
"O, papa," said Grace, "I shouldn't want 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.
"Pa," said Grace, "please tell me what's a sacrifice, anyhow?"