The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1873-03-21

and the journey began.
The boy did not know whether he
was going east or west. All that he
would tell was, that the road was rough
and the car jolted terribly. He stood
up and clung fast to its sides to keep
from being thrown about.
''What will mother think at home ?"
! gasped Clarence, trying in vain to find
a crevice out of which he could peep at
the surrounding country. HIS country
was blackness and darkness Just then
The time seemed days, the way endless,
ard then the thudding rumble grew less
J and less. The car was stan. ling still
/ He renewed his knocks and shouts and
/ kicks, but no one came, and after few
! moments The old motion began aga n.
/ He held fast, until his hands were sore
from the friction. The tears came and
rolled down his cheeks, for he could
/ not let go TO wipe them from his eyes.
Alter another hour the train stopped
| again, and he felt the motion of back
! ing; then all was till in the car, while
/ the great locomotive engine throbbed
! itself into the distance.
elf [ could only see where I am
! thought Clarence. But not a sound
was heard. The car was Switched off,
/ somewhere and left but where was it?
/ What if nobody should come and
! let me out What if I should have to
! stay in here till starved and died I" And
/ then he thought of all the sore trouble
! his absence would make at home. He
| listened intentiy for the sound of a
/ footstep, for he was growing very cold
/ and he wondered if it was night At
| last they came, the sweetest sounds that
/ Clarence had ever heard, and yet they
were but the tramp of heavy feet on
/ frozen ground. The boy forgot to cry
/ aloud, he was so eager in his listening.
/ Yes, they were coming; he could hear
! voices, as of men talking. Then he
! knocked with feet and hands /; he shout
/ ed aloud, but his voice was well-nigh
/ drowned in the dark, close car.
! whats this 2 said one of the men.
/ There's somebody stolen free ride III
/ that car, reckon" The pin was taken
out, the door showed back, and Clarence
7 vas nearly blinded by the full light of
/ day, for it was not yet o'clock. He
had not been imprisoned quite four
| hours, but the journey had seemed to
him the length of the United States.
"Where am To- asked Clarence.
cat Barton. Meant to steal a ride,
did you ?" asked one of men.
"No, [ did not. got carried of, -
replied Clarence. with indignation.
"Well. you'd better start back quick,
hoy. Where did you come from?
From Binghamton. How far is
it?"
"About 40 miles, Take that road
And the men went on their way, think
ing little of their careless words to the
boy.
n -oLo.L1 - III Ill - -
almost dark Then he reached Tioga
Center. He passed through the village, |
and went on until it was so dark that he !
by, but no friendly light cleaned out |
from it. Clarence thought the folks |
Lad gone to bed. He did not like to |
wake them up; besides, he was afraid |
they would think he was beggar boy. |
Near the barn-yard there was a large |
tack of hay with fence about it, to |
keep the cattle from getting in. Clar- |
ence jumped the fence. pulled out some |
hay, made a berth for himself, crawled |
in, and, with the summers red-tOp an
clover for bed and covering, he fell |
asleep. The tears stole out from his |
tired eye-lids with the last moments of |
conscious. after which sleep warmed his |
cheeks and dried his tears, sweetly |
ireshened every tired nerve and muscle |
for the great trial of the morrow There |
lay between his hay-stack bed and his |
home 81 miles of frozen land, and Clar- |
cnce was only IL years old, and had |
eaten neither dinner nor supper that |
day.
Light came from over the east, and |
with a quiver the boys eyelids opened
lie sprang up, fully dressed. No
smoke eurled from the farmhouse
chimney; nobody was astir so early.
He started for the long march. In h
pocket was the corn that he had gather
cd yesterday. Hunger was strong, and
the lad ate few kernels, wondering
why horses seemed to like it so we'll
At Oswego some boys sent him two
miles in the wrong direction. He met
an old man, who told him he must go
back. That made four extra miles to
walk. Clarence cried with cold and
hunger and weariness, yet he never
thought to beg a ride back by rail, or
to ask piece of bread, even, at house
door. ''Theyll think me beggar if 1
DO, and I'd rather go hungry than beg,
he thought. So he pressed on mile
after mile, while the day went its round.
His cheeks were frozen from the flow of
his tears, his toes and heels were touch
cd by frost, but he had reached Union,
and that was not many miles, he knew,
from home. In all that day he was
overtaken by but two wagons. They
we're So heavily laden that their drivers
walked therefore he could not ask
ride of either of them. Tt was after
dark when the friendly lights of Bing-
hampton were seen.
Clarence thought he could not get
home. The last few blocks were longer
than the miles had been, and yet he
knew, if he fell down there, somebody
who knew him would be certain to find
him. He came dragging himself weari-
ly up to house. No one saw him until
he opened the door The house was
full of friends and kindly souls, who
We're come to sympathize with his
mother. Clarence opened the door and
surprised them all. With one shout
they cried, "Here comes the lost boy
while his. mother sprang forward and
clasped him in her arms Clarence was
too tired to tell his story, Just then.
They gave him food, for he had eaten
nothing but few kernels of corn since
Fridays breakfast, and had not drunk
even one drop of water since leaving
home.
Ihus ends tins tru9 story OF Clarence
Shank's ride in the grain-car. How
nice it would be if all the lost children
could come home, as Clarence came;
if.never a hearth-stOne remained cold,
for the want of the living touch of the
little feet that stray and come not again
Clarence thinks his home a far nicer
place than a grain-car ON the Erie road
and the roof of his fathers house q
better shelter, in January, than red-top
and clover
Eli Temper.
4 SiOrla rDprSOT of So11r c,, Hon 4ar,,,a,,