The Western advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1872-1874, 1874-04-11
WHEN HARRY WAS LOST.
BY JULIA A. ABBOTT,

HARRY was my youngest, and, maybe,
my dearest. Mothers are apt to be lit
tie partial to the "baby," you know; but
I had some excuse for being fond of him.
Seth and Sam were grown-up men, and Of
the five that came between them and
Harry only the row of little headstones in
the graveyard yonder is left to tell the
story. So it was we all petted and, maybe,
spoiled the child; nobody could help it,
he was 80 sweet and cunning.
It's nj gh upon thirty years ago, that day
when Josiah-that was my husband-and
the boys came up from the bayfield, and
my baby was not with them. He had fol-
lowed them down in the morning, and as
he did not come back l never once
thought but that they'd let him stay to
play about in the drying grass till dinner
time.
Where's Harry, pap" said, not wor-
ried, but thinking maybe he had stopped
to pick berries by the way, or to hide for
Carlo to find him.
"Ain't he homer" was all pa said, as he
scrubbed his face with the towel.
NO." said, and then choked little
and couldn't say no more.
"What makes you 80 white, MAJ" and
don't be scared; Harry's round some
where all right, III warrant" said Seth
and Sam, both talking together. And Jo-
siah he said word or two of comfort,
too, but wasn't contented till I'd took a
look around the house and hunted it all
over and called Harry! Harry" :" all the
while they three ate their dinner. But
didn't find him, though l went clear to
the bayfield, and back, and looked in the
barn and the shed d-chamber, and every-
where thought he could be hid away.
BY the time l got back to the house again
Josiah was out on the back stoop to meet
me.
Didn't you find him, mother ?" he
said, as quick as l came near, and l see
he looked little worried, too.
NO" | said. "When did he leave the
hay y-field?"
"He hain't been there today" he
answered, sort of surprised-like. "Wheu
did he 60 away?"
"Early this morning-eight o'clock or
so;" and then I felt all through met me- th al at
the boy was lost.
You see we hadn't a neighbor for ever
80 far around-the nearest was six miles
away, cross lots at that, and there wasn't
but that one till you come to the Cross.
Roads-ten miles, if it was a foot. 50
knew he couldn't be gone to any house,
the mite-he was only five years old, and
small of his age, too
We'd been on the farm six years that
spring, so we'd had chance to add con-
siderable to the original clearing, but for
all that it wasn't much of walk to the
thick woods that quarter or half mile
back OF the house stretched away miles
toward the distant mountains.
Well, felt sure the boy was lost-and
just the thought Of my baby wandering
alone through those thick, dark woods
living on berries, in danger from wild
beasts-for bears and wildcats were still
middlin' plenty round about-crying for
me when the MI ght came on and dying at
last, starved and worn out with hunger
and weariness-why, it seemed as if
should 60 crazy-such horrible sights
came up before me.
Pa and the boys wouldn't give in to it
at first, but finally, when they'd hunted
everywhere around the farm where even
cat could hide, they came back to me
with white faces; but stopped only long
enough to say Sam was going to neighbor
Deane's to get their men-folks to help in
the search, while Seth and pa looked
along the edge Of the woods back of the
mousse. meanwhile was to wait, with
what. patience might, till my baby was
found or they had given up the search.
could not help, they said, and should only
hinder them.
Hours went by-how, know not-and
at last neighbor Deane and his four stall
wart boys came over with Sam. Then the
search began in earnest. Of course he
must be in the woods-no one of them all
seemed to have doubt Of that-and guns
were hastily loaded, torches prepared (for
the night was coming onl and the men
divided into squads Of two, each to 60 in