New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1871-09-10
LED OUT OF DANGER.
BY JEAN INGELOW.

Who is this! A careless little midship-
man, idling about in a great city, with his
pockets full of money. He was waiting for
a coach; it comes up presently, and he goes
on the top Of it and begins to look about
him.
They soon leave the chimneytops behind
them; his eyes wander with delight over the
harvest fields; he smells tie hOneysuckle IN
the hedgerow. and he wishes he was down
among the hazel bushes, that he might strip
them OF their milky nuts; then he sees
/ great vain piled with barley, and he wishes
he was on the top of it; then the checkered
shadows of the trees lying across the white
road and then a squirrel runs up bough,
and he can not forbear to whoOp and halloo,
though he can not chase it 10 its nest.
The other passengers were dehghted with
his simplicity and childlike glee, and they
| encourage him 10 talk about the sea and the
| ships, especially her majesty 's-wherein he
| had the honor TO sail. In the jargOn Of the
| seas he describes her many PROJECTIONS, and
| enlarges upon her peculiar advantages; he
! then cOnfides to them how certain MILDLY,
/ having been ordered TO the masthead as
| punishment, had seen, while sitting or the
| tOp-mast crOss-tree, something unc0mmonly
| like the sea-serpent: but finding this hint
| received with ilcredulous smiles, he begins
| to tell how he hopes that some day he shall
| be promoted to Lave charge Of the poop.
The passengers hone he viii have the honor:
| they have no doubt he deserves IL. His
| cheeks flushed with pleasure TO hear them
| say so. and he little thinks that they have
no notion IN what that honor" may happen
to cOnsis-.
The coach stops. The midshipman, with
his hands in his pockets, sits rafting his
money and singing There is a poor woman
standing by the door of the village inn; she
looks careworn; well she may, for IN the
spring her husband went up TO London to
look for work. He goes to work, and she
was expected to Join him there, when, alas :.
a tellOw-workman wrote her word how he
had met with an accident, how he was very
bad and wanted his wife 70 come and nurse
| him. But she has .wo children and Is des-
titute: size must walk all the way, and she
is sick at heart when she thinks that per
| haps he may die among strangers before she
can reach him. She does not think OF beg
ging, but seeing the boys eyes attracted
to her, she makes a courtesy, and he with
draws his hand and throws her down SOW
ereign. She looks at IL with incredulous
ey. and then she looks at him
its all right" lie says. and the coach
starts again, while, full OF gratitude, she
hires cart TO take her across the country
to The railway, that the next night she
NAV sit by the bedside Of her sick hus band.
The pidshipman knows nothing about
that-and he never VIII Know.
The passengers 90 on talking-the little
rnidshipman has told them who he is, and
where he is going. But there is one who
has never joined in the conversation; he Is
a dark looking and restless man-he sits
apart: he sees the glitter OF tie falling CON.
and now he watches the boy more closely
than he did before.
He was a strong man, resOlute ami deter
mined: the boy with a pockettu- OF money
4 / -.
others that his fathers house was the par
sonage at Y, the coach goes within
five miles of il, and LIE means to get out
at the nearest point and walk, or rather
run, over to his home, through the great
wood.
The man decides to get down, too, and 90
through the wood; lie viii rob the little
midshipman perhaps il he cries ont and
struggles he will DO worse The boy. he
thinks, Will have no chance against him; it
is quite impossible that he can escape:
the way is lonely, and the sun will be
down.
No. There seemed indeed little chance Of
escape: the half fedged bird lust tuttering
down from his nest has more chance
against the keeu-eyed hawk than the little
light-hearted sailor boy will have against
him.
And now they reach the village where the
bow is to alight He wishes tie other pas
sengers good. evening, and runs lightly
down between the scattered houses. The
man has also got down and is following.
The path lies through the village church
ward; there is evening service, and the
door is wide open, for it is warm. The little
midshipman steals up 10 the porch and
looks in, and listens. The clergyman has
inst risen from his knees in the pulpit, and
is giving out the text. Thirteen months
have passed since the boy was in house Of
PRAYER, and a feeling OF pleasure induced
him to stand still and listen.
He hears the opening sentences Of the
sermon, and then he remembers bis home,
and comes softly out of the porch. full OF
calm and serious pleasure. The clergyman
has reminded him of his father, and his
careless heart is filed with the echoes OF his
voice and Of his prayers He thinks on
what the clergyman said Of the care Of our
Heavenly Father for us: he remembers how
he left home; his father prayed that he
might be preserved through every danger;
he does not remember any particular dan
ger that he was exposed 10 excepting in the
great storm; but he is grateful that he has
come home in safety, and lie hopes when
ever he shall be in danger-which he sup
poses he shall be some day-that the proyi-
deuce of God will watch over him and pro-
tect Kim. And so he presses onward to
the entrance Of the wood
Are not spaTrOws," he hears ''sOld for q
farthing? And one shall not fall TO the
ground without our Fathers notice. But
the hairs Of your head are numbered Fear
not, therefore, .ye are Of more value than
many sparT0Ws.
The man is there before him. He has
pushed himself into the thicket and cut a
heavy stake. He suffers the boy TO go on
before, and then he comes ont. falls into the
path and follows him. 1t is too light at
present for his deed of darkness and too
near the entrance of the wood. but he knows
that shortly the path will branch oti into
two, and the right one for the boy to take
will be dark and lonely.
But what prompts the little midshipman,
when not fifty rods from the branching of !
the path, to break into sudden run! It is |
not tear-he never dreams Of danger. Some |
sudden impulse or some wild wish for home |
makes him dash off suddenly after his saun- |
ter with a whOOp and bound On he goes,
as if running for race. The path bends |
and the man loses sight of him. "But I |
shall have him yet, he thinks; she can not |
keep up the pace long" The bow has |
nearly reached the place where the path di- |
vides: he puts up a white owl, that can |
scarcely fly, as 1t goes whirring along close |
TO the ground before him. He gains upon !
it, another moment, and it will be his. Now |
he gets the start again. They come to the |
branching of the path, and The bird Goes |
down the wrong one, The temptation to |
follow it is too strong to be resisted: he |
knows that somewhere deep in the wood |
there is cross track which he has left; it !
is only to run little faster and he shall he |
home nearly as soon.
On he pushes; the path takes a. bend. and !
be is Just out Of sight when his DnrsTer |
comes where the paths divide. The bow |
had turned TO the right, and lie takes the |