Few ventures in Juvenile Literature met with such wonderful success as the "William Henry Letters," and few more richly deserved it. The Letters were so natural, fresh and original, such an amusing and rollicking sketch of genuine boy nature, that all boys — and girls as well — and all who remembered when they were boys, equally enjoyed the readmg of those astonishing Letters, illustrated as they were by William Henry himself. All that is necessary to say of the present volume is that it is a sequel to that, and worthy of its " illustrious predecessor."
and about Southern life, and Southern people, and about soldier life and battles and rations and making raids, and the Washington hospitals, and how needy the contrabands were, and about my barrel. "Poor creatures!" said she. "I must look up some things for them to-morrow." Aunt Phebe thought there might be a good many things lying about that would be of use to folks who hadn't anything.
"Billy's boots!" cried Hannah Jane.
"Why, yes," said her mother, "no use keeping boots for a growing boy."
This and other remarks brought us back to William Henry again, and grandmother seemed glad of it. She liked to keep talking about her boy.
"I shall feel very anxious," she said. "I hope he will write soon as he gets there. I told him he'd better write every day, so I could be sure just how he was. For if well one day, he mightn't be the next."
"O grandmother, that's too bad!" said Lucy Maria. "'T is cruel to ask a boy to write every day!"
"I wouldn't worry, mother," said Aunt Phe