! can't make such a little fellow mind!"

Mr. Lazelle was very much vexed with Horace, and firmly resolved that he
would never again take charge of a lady travelling with children. At one
time he flew into a passion, and boxed the boy's ears. Horace felt very
much like a wounded wasp. He knew Mr. Lazelle would not have dared
strike him before his mother, and from that moment he despised him as a
"sneak."

Whenever Mr. Lazelle was looking for him in great haste, he was very
likely to be missing; and when that sorely tried young gentleman was
almost in despair, a saucy little head would appear at the car-window,
and a small voice would shout,--

"Ho, Mr. Lazelle! why don't you come ahead? I beat you _in_!"

"Horace," said Mrs. Clifford, wearily, "you don't know how you tire me!
Here is this dear baby that I have to hold in my arms; isn't it enough
that I should have the care of him, without being all the while anxious
about you?"

"Yes," chimed in Grace, pushing back her beautiful curls, "you don't
know how ma and I fret about you. You'll kill poor ma before ever we can
get you east!"

Horace hung his head for shame, and decided that it didn't "pay" to
punish Mr. Lazelle, if his mother must suffer too. He meant, for her
sake, to "turn over a new leaf," though he did not say so.

On the afternoon of their second day's ride, they reached the beautiful
city of Cleveland. Here they were to rest for a few hours. Their clothes
were sadly tumbled, their collars dust-color, and their faces and hair
rough with cinders. A thorough washing and brushing, and some fresh
ruffles and laces, gave a much tidier appearance to the whole party.

After Grace and Horace were ready, Mrs. Clifford thought they might as
well go down stairs while she tried to rock little Katie to sleep.

"Be sure not to go away from the house," said she. "Grace, I depend upon
you to take care of Horace, for he may forget."

The children had been standing on the piazza for some time, watching the
people passing, while Mr. Lazelle lounged near by, talking politics with
some gentlemen. In a little while Mrs. 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 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