The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1888-08-18

were seated on my stomach, and ohs the
pressure! l groaned and walked my
self up, but 1 wasn't much better off
, then, for Egyptian darkness reiSned
about me, except for the crack where
! the light still sifted through.
"Where was IL What was the matter?
couldn't think, the horrible pressure
was so maddenlng. All about, around,
above, was packed piles Of oats, not
shclled oats, you know, but oats before
they are thrcshed, on the stock, or
whatever you call it. While l was
asleep had been moved in, and that's
all there was oft, except that couldn't
move hand nor foot. Two or three
loads must have been thrown on top of
me, trod down, and clinched, so to
speak.
"Well, I tumblcd around bit and
got my hands free and poked the grain
away from my face a little. / was in
corner, as l told you, under brace, and
this gave me chance for my life-that
and the crack which gave me breath
of air in the hot, sitting place. l was
just as effectually emersed as were the
monks in olden times when they were
walled up in their living tombs, for no
amount of strength served to lift the
burden a particle.
"By and by something futtered at
my feet aad rose up and cackled.
at was the white hen.
Il knew her and she knew me, but
bless you, she didn't want anything of
me nor my company. l could see that.
But she couldn't get outl Oh! but
couldn't shea She cooked her head i'm
pudently to one side, stepped daintily
to tiny aperture about half as big as
her head, and | saw at glance that she
meant business. The less sense the
more instinct; l saw that the creature
would get out somewhere.
"Why no: use her for carrier pigeon
aud thus establish communication with
the outside world? l couldn't dare to
die here and be pitched out to the cat
tie by forkfuls, or put through
threshing machine, although l might
deserve such treatment, and l couldn't
get out myself.
II tore a leaf from my n ote book and
wrote something like this:
Come to my rescue. am buried fathoms
deep in oats, northwest corner of the barn
just opposite the house. Ny blue necktie is
thrust through the crack. Perhaps you can
see it. l am moved in. Your relative,
FRED INGERsoLL
az tied the note to the hen securely
with portion of the necktie, the rest
futtered from the barn, and Biddy
stepped forth. 'one foot up, the other
foot down. carefully, conscientiously,
as hen does, and by and by faint
rustliug spoke hopefully of her progress
to my waiting heart. Meanwhile 1 was
prey to anxious thoughts.
Suppose she should never reach the
light, but perish in her perilous jour-
ney, become hemmed in and unable to
go any further; suppose she should
lose tho letter in her passage-but a
triumphant cackle assured me that the
white hen had reached the barn floor,
and blessed sight! a little later Isaw
her through the crack walking proudly
away from the door with the letter
plainly il view.
'Just then two young ladies drove
into the yard. Prcttyl Well, I guess
So You don't often see handsomer
girls than Janet Harding's. One was
dressed in seal brown, the other in navy
blue.
"'Do look at that hen' cried Seal
Brown. 4 do believe it's billet doux
from your William. If it is, now, I'll
clap my hands hard, just SO, and I'll
say, Billy; do send mo one, too
Zone, two; and will it take two to
satisfy your said Navy Blue, LAUGHING
at her sisters saucy face. laughed,
too, and fell in love with her then and
there.
"They lured the hen toward them
with handful of corn. Seal Brown
swooped down and loosencd the letter
and read it.
81 saw all this through crack in thu