Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1875-06-24
Children's department.
THE SNOW STORM.

THE SNOW STORM.
It was dark December night, wild and
stormy. Ever since midday the snow had
fallen with unwearying perseverance, and
now lay deep on the ground. [ had been
detained at my Office later than usual, and
had to cross dreary moor for some two
miles, to reach my home l confess I felt
chilled at the prospect of such walk in such
Storm but wrapping my plaid around me-,
and staff in hand, set forward, thinking Of
the bright home should soon reach, and the
dear ones who were awaiting my return with
a loving welcome. Soon | left the busy town,
with its many lights, behind me, and stepped
out into the dismal moor. The snow lay
much deeper here on the untrodden footpath,
and seemed to fall more heavily than before,
so thick and binding, that found myself
perpetually straying from the proper road
way, and with difficulty retraced my steps !;
the cold felt keener also, and sharp east
wind had risen. At times I grew almost
breathless with the struggle, and had to pause
for gathering strength ere faced the storm
once more. At length 1 rejoiced to see the
guidng-post, which was placed where three
roads met, and against which was thankful
to lean for few seconds, until had recover.
ed breath. was just on the point of start
ing off afresh, when faint sound of human
voice caught my ear. Startled, listened,
but all was still. shaded my eyes with my
hand and stared anxiousy into the surround
ing darkness; but naught could discern be-
yond wilderness of snow, and was just
concluding my imagination had deceived me,
when again the same murmur came floating
through the air.
Feeling that with the guide.post so near
could scarcely lose my way, [ fastened for
ward in the direction of the sound and soon
distinctly heard childs voice repeating the
Lords Prayer. 1t had a strange effect in
such storm, at such place, and my heart
beat high when the gentle "Amen" was said.
I called out, "Whose voice is that?' but
there was no reply. I called again, more
loudly than before, and then the timid answer
came, "Johnnie's," and few steps brought
me to boy some eight years old, standing
shivering in the snow.
"My poor little man." I said, care you
alone?"
"No," he replied "Nelly is here, but she
grew so cold and tired could not get her on,
and now she is fast asleep l felt sleepy too,
but thought l would say my prayers first y
and so I stopped down to the bundle of snow
he had indicated as being Nelly" he whis-
pering softly, "has Jesus sent you ?"
"Surely He has," answered; chad you
not said your prayers, Johnnie, you might
both have perished. But how came you here,
my 69yT =. ::
grandma it was showing then" he said inno-
; Gently, "when we left home.'
"And where is your home ?" asked "and
who is your tatherT"
Farmer Rutland" he replied eve live at
High Farm"
High Farm happened to be on the road to
my own house, so told Johnnie we would all
90 home together. He rejoiced when he
heard my name, and remarked to himself,
"How we'll it was I said my prayers
I found Nelly, indeed half asleep, wrapped
in heavy cape, of which the devoted little
fellow had divested himself in his endeavor to
keep her warm Nor could induce him to
put it on until he saw me raise Nelly tenderly
in my arms, and wrapping her in my great
plaid, gathered her close to my bosom, pre-
pared to carry her.
"Now, Johnnie" said, "you keep hold of
Lne SklFC VI my CoaI, auu We sHall soou oe ~
High Farm"
The cold seemed to have become more in
tense, the falling snow more dense than ever.
Manfully the little fellow kept up by my side,
though the snow by this time reached above
his knees. | tried to cheer him as we trudged
along, but felt the drag upon my coat be-
come greater, and it was evident his strength
and heart were failing him. Then suppress
ed sob broke from him, and he clung more
closely to me as | bent down, trying to soothe
and comfort him.
"You are brave little man" said. "We
will soon reach the farm now. Think of the
bright fire there, the nice warm milk and
bread, and mothers loving kiss, all waiting
for you"
II cannot walk further" he sobed. "Oh!
take Nelly home, but let me lie down here.
l will say my prayers again, and perhaps
Jesus will send some one else to help me-"
"No, no." I answered, cheerily; 81 cannot
now leave you behind, Johnnie; you must
just make horse of me and mount my back.
There you are now Hold me fast round the
neck, and whip hard to make me 90 better"
Again started forward, endeavorng to keep
him awake with questions and little sallies;
but felt the additional burden in such
storm was becoming beyond my already ex-
hausted strength, when suddenly wavering
speck of light shone out in the darkness, then
vanished, then appeared once more, becoming
nearer and brighter. 1 hallooed loudly, and
my shout was answered, and Johnnie called
out, in faint and glad voice, "Oh! that's
fatherw
And happily so it was The poor farmer,
becoming alarmed at the heightened absence
of his children, had started with his two men
and lantern in search Of them, and great
tears of thankfulness fell from his eyes when
he beheld his loved ones. Johnnie was at
once taken into his loving arms, and a quarter
of an hours walk brought US to the farm,
where the anxious mother received u.s. Nelly
was soon reused by the warm and light of the
great fire, little or none the worse for the
nights adventure but poor Johnnie was sadly
frost-bitten, and it was long before he recov-
cred.
Deep was the gratitude of the honest cou-
pie for the aid l had afforded their children,
who, doubtless, overpowered with sleep, would
have been hidden in the snow ere their father
had reached them, and must inevitably have
perished but for the prayer which Johnnie's
trusting, simple heart had prompted, and had
been the means, with Gods blessing, Of my