"Shall we holler all together?" cried a voice from the midst of the ranks.
The owner of the voice would have been "stood on the barrel," if Horace had been less busy thinking.
"I've forgot how they holler, as true as you live; but I reckon it's all together, and open your mouths wide."
At this the young volunteers, nothing loath, gave a long, deafening shout, which the woods caught up and echoed.
Horace scratched his head. He had seen his father drill his men, but he could not remember that he had ever heard them scream.
A pitched battle came off next, which would have been a very peaceful one if all the boys had not wanted to be Northerners. But the feeling was greatly changed when Horace joined the Southern ranks, saying "he didn't care how much he played Secesh when everybody knew he was a good Union man, and his father was going to be a general." After this there was no trouble about raising volunteers on the rebel side.
The whole affair ended very pleasantly, only there was some slashing right and left with a few bits of broken glass, which were used as swords; and several mothers had wounds to dress that night.
Mrs. Clifford heard no complaint from her little son, although his fingers were quite ragged, and must have been painful. Horace was really a brave boy, and always bore suffering like a hero. More than that, he had the satisfaction of using the drops of blood for red paint; and the first thing after supper he made a wooden sword and gun, and dashed them with red streaks.
CHAPTER VI
SUSIE AND PRUDY