Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1860-09-05
A LITTLE HERO.

Grace Greenwood WROTE the following lit
tie stery-and true one it is-for the
Little Pilgrim. She gets the facts from
an incident described By the Hartford DGi-
ly Times, some years ago, as having hap
pened in Colts Meadows:
In the city of Hartford, Connecticut,
lives the hero of true history am about
to relate, but no longer "little," as the
perilous adventure which made him for a
time famous in his native town, happened
several years ago.
Our hero was then bright, active boy
Of fourteen, the son of mechanic. Inthe
severe winter Of 18-, the father worked
in a factory, about mile and half from
his home, and every day the boy carried
him his dinner across wide piece of mead
ow.
One keen frosty day he found the snow
on this meadow nearly two feet deep. and
no traces of the little foot-path remaining.
Yet he ran on as fast as possible, plunging
through drifts-keeping himself warm by
vigorous exercises, and cheerful thoughts.
When in the midst of the meadow, full
ly half mile from any house. he suddenly
felt himself going down, down, dOwnl-he
had fallen into WE'LL
He sunk down into the dark, icy water,
but rose Immediately to the surface. There
he grasped hold of a plank, which had
fallen into the well as he went down. One
end of this rested on the bottom, the other
rose about four feet above the surface of
the water.
The poor lad shouted for help till he
was hoarse and almost speechless; but all
in vain, as it was impossible for him to
make himself heard from such depth, and
at such distance from any house So at
last he concluded that if he was to be saved
at all, he must save himself, and begin at
once, as he was getting extremely cold in
the water. So he went to work.
First he drew himself up on the plank.
and braced himself against the top of it
and the wall of the well, which was of
brick and quite smooth. Then he pulled
off his coat, and. taking out his pocket
knife, cut off his boots, that he might work
to greater advantage. Then, with his feet
against one side of the well, and his shoul-
ders against the other, he worked his way
up, by the most fearful exertiOn, about half
the distance to the top. Here he was
obliged to pause. take breath, and gather
up his energies for the work yet before
him. Far harder was it than he had yet
gone through; for the side of the well being
from that point completely covered with
ice, he must cut with his knife grasping-
places for his fingers, slowly and carefully |
all the way up.
1t was almost hopeless attempt but it
was all that he could do. And here the
little hero lifed up his heart to God, and
prayed feryently for help, fearing he could
never get out alone.
Doubtless the Lord heard his voice call
ing from the depths, and pitied him. He
wrought no miracle to save him, but breath
ed into his heart yet larger measure of
calmness and courage, Strengthening him
% work out his own deliverance. 1t is in
his way that God answers our prayers,
when we call upon him in time of trouble.
After this the little hero cut his way up
ward, inch and inch. His wet stockings
roze to the ice and kept his feet from slip
,ing, but his shirt was quite torn from his ,
shoulders ere he had reached the top. ]
He did reach it at last-crawled out in
o the snow, and lay down for moment to
est, painting out his breath in little white
LIQUIDS on the clear frosty air.
He had been two hours and half in the
Relll a.,
His clothes soon frOze to his body. but G
Ie no lOngor suffered with the cold, as full
f joy and thankfulness, he ran to the fac q
DRY, where his good father was waiting |
nd wondering. c
The poor man was obliged to go without
is dinner that day, but you may be sure I
e cared little about that, while listening I
nth tears in his eyes, to the thrilling story
is son had to relate to him g
He must have been very proud of the
Oy that day, as he wrapped him up in his $
wn warm Overcoat, and took him home to
lother.
And how that mother must have wept :
nd smiled over the lad, and kissed him, .
nd thanked God for himl
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