The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-12-18

That, by his bow and arrow, the tyrant Gek fell.
Pesolved, that he was not myth-whatever that
may be-
Bat that he shot the apple, and Switzerland was
Resolved, that crusos livod, and Friday. and tn
Resolved, that little aeorgy hi. fathers trui,,re
And owned up like hero. Resolved, that all the
science
''f @l! the learned professor. shall not shake
Arm rellance
IN the parties wa have mentioned; and we d.
hereby mako Known
ihs fact that va boys feel that We have Sold,
inl rruest tl,st in The future these rights he J..
alone.
A Yelloty-Fcyer Incident.
One day, when the fever WAS at =
height in New Orleans, Il nicely-,2ressy.s
in!cresting-looking little fellow abos,l :
years old stepped into the Office Of IT,,
Picayat1ae with a little slip Of papc,
which he handel! to one of the etlit;'r>
Opening it, the editor read a notice O.
the death Of Mrs. Allen and inf;:r:
He looked inquiringly at the child. he
was striving to choke his sobs.
"It's my dear mother and my dar!:.:::
little sister," be said. "Oh, I cant b..
1ieye they've gone! And nov Mar
garet's got it,
"Who is Margaret?" was asked
"She's my grown-up sister; she's /,
aud the prettiest and best girl in Ii
worl,1. It's awful to see her throwi,,,
her arms about, and her cheeks az s..
red, and her eyes shine like stars. ST.
uon't know any of l1s, not even pA:'n
and che keeps calling ont, 'Man,.:r
',lanlma, why don't you come to me-
Oh, I'm So scared about hcr!'
He turned without another wor.i al,
hurried down stairs.
The next morning, flushed, excited?
painting for breath, the little felIo+
sprang up the steps and burst into the
Office with another slip Of paper III hi,
extended hand.
"It's Margaret now," he faltered. Iii;
little frail fo1m was convulsed with ~:
gnish, but with wonderful selt-res'r'i''5
he neither wept nor sobbed. But tx.
agony, the despair i'll the soft bro~.:
eyes WAS ten times more pathetic thur,
4 more noisy grief.
Only IT," commented the editor,
musingly, as he read the death-not;ce
"Oh, she was so good, SO kind!' the
child cricd; "she never said cross
word to me. Oh Margaret, Margaret.
what am I going to do without my OWL
Hest sistcr?" He covered his poor litt|s,
face with his hands and sat there, his
breath coming quickly, and in convuis-
We gasps.
Several of the employees OF the paper
were in the room, and though, as & rule,
printers do not usually find it in their
line of business to comfort the afflicted,
yet these men did what they could by
petting the little fellow, and bidding
him be man.
Such little man as he WAS already,
with such power of self-repressionl It
was unnatural, and one would have pre-
ferred seeing tears, or any expression OF
childish grief.
st last in silence he rose, and walke;:
slowly and heavily down the steps.
Two days elapsed, but on the third
the wsll-known little step was heard on
the stairs, and, paler and frazier than
before, the child appeared, holding the
fatal slip in his hand.
@It's brothers Edward and James,
now," he said, in dreary, monotonous
tone. You saw he was utterly stunned
by the repeated blows.
They both died last night, and Ed
ward was glad to die, for he said he saw
mamma and Margaret waiting for him ;
but James, he screamed out and was in
pain. Do people go straight to heaven
when they die?" turning his grave,
brown eyes to tie kind faces aronnd
him. Il wonder what takes 'em there.
when they're SO weak they can't raise
their heads. They amt strong enough,
to fly themselves, is they?"
The people in the Office looked at
each other rather sheepishly. The!
we're not exactly prepared to discu 8
questions from religious standpoint,
but there were those sad, implorins
eyes fixed upon them. One of the
printers, burly, good-natured-looking
man, had stepped in for some directions.
he answered the question:
"I've heard preachers say, my little
chap, that the Savior and the angels are
always st the death-beds of good peo-
pie, and take their souls to heaven"
"Yes, I've heard my mamma say that, -
he answered, gravely, @and I s'pose
that's the way she was carried up. But
wish they hadn't brought the huss TO,
en-
"The huss?" asked one Of the gentle
men.
*Yes, the black carriage with silver
things on it that takes away the dead. Il
seems always a-travelin', travelin' before
sne, and I see it oven when wake up
in the night. It's an awful thing, aint
it??"
Two days after, he was back again,
and shndder ran through the group
in the Office when the terrible slip was
handed in.
"It's Uncle James this time," he said,
in strange, low tones, "and my papa
went to bed to-day. That makes six
dead. I wonder who'll be the next:
His solemn eyes, sunk deep in his pale,
pinched little face, seemed to be asking
why he should suffer thus, and what