The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-11-27
A Little Hero

In the city of Hartford, Conn.,, lives
the hero OF the true story I am about to
relate-but ne longer little,'' as the
perllous adventure which made him IA
nous IN his native town happened sew
eral years ago.
Our hero was then a bright, active
boy of fourteen-the son of a mechanic.
In the severe winter of 1885, the father
worked IN a factory. about mile from
his home, and every day the boy carried
him his dinner across a piece of
meadow land
One keen, frosty day he found the
snow on the meadow nearly two feet
deep, and no traces of the little foot
path remaining. Yet he ran on as fast
as possible. planging through the drifts,
keeping himself warm by vigorous ex-
eroise and cheerful thoughts.
When IN the mist of the meadow,
fully half mile from the house, he sud
denly felt himself going down, down
He had fallen into a we'll He sank
down, down into the dark icy water, but
rose Immediately to the surface. There
he grasped hold of a plank which had
fallen into the we'll as he went down.
One end of this resting on the bottom
of the well-the other rose about four
feet above the surface of the water.
The poor lad shouted for help until
he was hoarse and almost speeehless,
but all in vain, as it was impossible to
make himself heard from such depth,
and at such a distance from any house.
So at last he concluded that if he was
saved at all he must save himself, and
begin at once, as he was getting ex-
Sremely cold In the water.
First he drew himself up 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 he cut off his boots that he
might go to work to greater advantage.
Then, with his feet against one side of
the well, and his shoulders against the
other, ne worked his way up, by the
most fearful exertion, about half the
distance to the top. Here he was
obliged to pause to take breath and
gather up his energies for the work yet
before him. Far harder was it than all
he had gone through, for the sides being
must with his knife, cut grasping places
fer his fingers, slowly and carefully all
the wsE up.
It wiss almost q hopeless attempt, but
It was all that he could do. And here
the little hero lifted up his heart to
God and prayed fervently for help,
fearing that he could never get out
alone.
Doubtless the Lord heard his voice,
calling from the deep, and pitied him.
He wrought no miracle to save him, but
he breathed into his heart a yet larger
measure of calmness and courage,
Strengthening him to work out his own
deliveranee.
After this, the little hero cut his way
upward, inch by inch. His wet stock
iags froze to the ice and kept his feet
from slipping, but his shirt was quite
worn from his shoulders ere he reached
the top.
He did reach it at last-crawled out
nto the snow, and laid down for mo-
ment to rest-panting out his breath in
little white clouds on the clear, frosty
air.
He had been two hours and half in
the well.
His clother soon froze to his body,
but he no longer suffered with cold, as
fuIl of ioy and thankfulness, he ran to
+he factory. where his father was wait
ing and wondering.
The poor man had to go without his
dinner that day, but you may be su1e
he cared little about that, while listen
INC with tears in his eyes to the thrill
inc story his son had to relate to him
Ha rnf1st have been proud of the boy
that dav. as he wrapped him in his OWE
warm overcoat and took him home tc
ssmother.
And how that mother must have wept
ond smiled over the lad, and kissed hin
and thanked God for him.
I have not heard of the '' little hero
4o- +1zo or three wears, but I trust he il
growing up into a brave, heroic man mar
and I hope he viii never forget the
heavenly friend who did not forget hin
in the hour of his great need.
There is an old saying that truth heI
AFT the bottom of well.
I trust that this brave boy FOUND ano I
9God @ belns those who help themselves
Groce Greena0OOd.