Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1874-07-10
WILLIE.
BY P. DEMING.

BY P. DEMING.
IT frightened us good deal when we
found the little dead boy. We were
three country lads going home across the
lots at noon for our dinner. In passing
lonely pasture ground we saw little
basket lying ahead of us upon the grass.
We made race for it and Ed captured
the prize; little further on we picked
up a small hat which we at once recOg-
nized as Willie Dedrick's. Then we
turned the angle of the zig-zag rail fence,
under the bottom rail, was beautiful lit
tie Willie, only five years old.
His clothing was torn and bloody, and
he didFnot move; we felt little afraid
because he was so still, but we went up
to him. He was dead, and his plump
little features were all blackened with
great bruises.
1t shocked us very much. Only three
hours before we had been playing with
Willie at the pond We felt that it was
terrible thing to find him dead in this
unlooked-for manner We asked each
other what Walter and Mary would do
when they should hear of this; Willie
was the only boy they had. And then
the question came up what we ought to
do under such circumstances. There was
no one in sight to tell us. 1t was sug-
gested that we might take up the body
and carry it home to Walter and Mary
it was not far through the lot and down
the bank to the pond, where their home
was. 1t seemed natural and right at first
that we should take the chubby littleboy
and carry him home. But we shrank
from the presence of death even in the
form of little Willie; and besides that
we had certain dim and confused ideas,
as country lads do who read the city
newspapers, that somehow Coroner was
necessary, and that it would not be law
full or safe for us to meddle with Willie
thus strangely found dead from an un-
known cause.
So we sat down upon the large stones
near by Willie and held council. There
was no chairman appointed and no secre-
tary, and none of the surroundings that
ordinarily belong to deliberative bodies
nevertheless in all the essentials of a
great council this occasion was very
eminent. Here were three lads seated
upon three fragments of the ancient
granite which strews the northern slope
of the Adirondack Mountains, and below
them stretched the wild woods, away to
the valley of the mighty st. Lawrence
and in their midst upon that bright sum
mer day, sat the skeleton king with his
awful scepter and his iron crown, pressing
upon their young hearts those matchless
terrors which have ruled the world since
time began.
1t was an august presence, and the
bows felt their responsibility more than
members of councils ordinarily do. Their
final conclusion was that one of their
number must go and tell Walter and
Mary, while the other two watched the
body. 1t required quite as much courage
as wisdom to reach this conclusion, for
to tell the parents was task the boys
dreaded.
The lot was cast, country-boy fashion
with three blades of grass, to determine
who should be the messenger of evil
tidings. The lot fell upon Phil, and he
Immediately rose up to start. Ed. sug
gested at this point that in sending word
the death ought to be ascrlbed to some
cause. The boys had been very much
puzzled from the first to know what could
have done it, They gazed about the
pasture ground to discover what sugges
ton could be made. There were couple
of horses, some cows, and some sheep
grazing in distant part of the inclosure
As soon as it was suggested that one OF
the horses might perhaps have done it by
kicking Willie, the boys accepted that as
the natural and undoubted solution of the
mystery. And so Phil took that word
with him.
Phil went upon little trot through
the lot and down the bank, moving rap
idlv so that his heart might not have
time to quail or shrink; and in less than
nyu minutes he stood by the little house
near the pond.
He looked in at the door, which was
wide open upon this warm summer day
and there he saw Walter and Mary
| Walter sat cleaning the lock of his rifle
| while the gun itself was lying across his
| Ian. Doubtless Phil's face was somewhat
| pale as he went in at the door, for Mary
| looked at him as if she saw something
there, and dreaded it.
The lad had good sense; he did not
blurt out the sad news suddenly. He
said to Walter in a quiet way, "Will yoJ
please to step out of the door with me;
wish to see you"
Tt was the earnestness of the voice
nerhaps. that caused the man to pu
aside his gun and obey so quickly.
When they were out of the house Phi
said. Il have bad news for you; we have
| found your little son in the lot, kicked BY
horse, and we are afraid that he is 81
| bad that he is dead"
Phil had thought of this way of saying
it before he got to the house: When III
said dead, Walter gave little start ant
said, "Is he dead?"
Phil had to say, "Yes, we are afrait
he is. and we think he is.
Walter stepped into the cottage ant
Phil stood at the door to see how h'
would tell Mary Walter SAID, withou
any preface, Mary, our little Willie i
deadp'
"That was not prudent thing" tn,
| bn,, thou rlt as the tragic words fel