The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1897-10-01

s
upon a true story.
Ephraim n. Winans f. now so well
known Angeleno. About the year 1868
he was an itinerant preacher In the mid
die west; ana in New Virginia. Ia, Wit
messed the dramatic incident which was
destined TO be the motif OF one OF the
best dialect ballads in American litera-
ture.
Several years later Mr.. Winans was In
Warsaw. ILL.,. the home of Hays father.
He dined at the Hay house. and. AFTER
ward. the family nncluding john accom-
panied him TO the Presbyterian church,
where he preached on Divine Providence
Its Possibilities Under Natural Laws.
His exegesis was. briefly, that providence
may work in answer to prayer or or us
own tender mercy, without miracle but
wholly in accord with rational laws-chlei-
" through the spirit. And among other
Illustrations he told the story which has
since with some changes. under poetic
ncense) become the enduring Little
Brooches" In a Wit this spring 70
Warsaw. Mr. Winans secured the letter
I'm which Hay acknowledges the source
of his Inspiration.
The episode which inspired Hay was az
follows:
A dark. rainy night IN April. 1863. Cor
thereabouts IL cannot have been more
than year from that, district minlste-
rial association was in session In New
VirgiAia. IL. rhe Rev. Henry b. Hea-
cock NOW located somewhere IN north
ern California; had just stepped TO the
stand, and was giving oct the hymn:
Forever With the Lord
Amen, So let II be.
when q man. named Proudfoot. burst into
the church crying:
"a horse. for Gods sake horser'
lie had driven his wagon up 10 the
church steps and handed out his wife and
parents: hut. Just as he reached 20 take
l. 4 Ill I.s hg ok Of
the wagon, the horses stampedei and
were gone I'm the darkness.
The meeting was broken M, and the
congregation (among them Mr.. Winans)
started out TO follow the runaways. The
night was impenetrably black. the rain
and the Iowa mud made anything Ike
tracking impossible The scarchers swept
cOncentnc circles I'm the direction I'm which
the horses were headed. and. in that
fenceless prairie. through mire and gloom,
they nOundered on.
At last possibly half a mile from town.
they came upon The runaways. one horse
was down i'm the head OF gully, the 9th
or uu on the bank: the wagon. h@lf over
turned behind them. But the child was
not there.
Round about they searched for the pre-
Sumably trampled lad. hut no trace was
TO be found. Their improvsed torches
were burning out 4 Mr.. Reed remem-
bered an unused cabin. half a mile across
the fields. and led the party thither TO
md dry material for new torches.
Hook OF about fifty sheep had taken ref
uge IN the cabin from the storm. and
their bleating served TO guide the search
efs But. when they at last found the
place, they could not open the door.
\ man was boosted up: crawed into
the gable. and brought out the torch
wood. When he crawled out he said:
II thought | heard q voice IN there"
No one believed II. II must have been
some note Of the bleating sheep: but he
insisted. At last they forced The reluct-
flock sitting on a box. was the lost child,
He did not. in real life. say:
] want a chaw OF terbacker.
And that's what's the matter with me.
Tie simply said: Here I am. papa. "
quite unabashed bv his experience.
HOW had he come there in the night
across the uncompassed fields. so far from
the smiled wagon2 God knows. Per-
hans ne heard the voice Of the sheen I'm
the storm. and followed il. And how
did he pass the door which excited men
could barely force? For that Mr.. Wnans
says.
,"I suppose the dor may have been open
when he came in. and that the sheen
crowding back from where he sat, closed
IL. and that the rain swelled II so that
il was difficult 10 open. At any rate. I
look upon it as Providence by natural
means.
we came forth with the child from the
cabin singing the old iong-meter dovol-
ogy: and his mother and his grandpa
rents. weeping and praying away back I'm
town. heard as. and knew that all was
we'll And that is the true story that
John Hay and his father heard IN NY
sermon I'm Warsaw: the story which gave
him Little Breeches. He has turned the
rain to snow. and the ministerial asso-
citation 10 a Jug Of molasses, and taken
some minor license with the story: but
"a is the story Of ProudfOots little boy
I'm Iowa in 1852.
For the refreshing OF those who may
have forgotten the poem follows
I don't go much on religion.
] never amt had any show:
But I've got n middin' griD sir.
on the handful . things ! know.
| don't nan out on the prophets
And free will and that sort o thing
Bnt 7 believe in God ana the angels.
Ever since one night last spring.
come into town with some turnips.
And my little Gabe come along
No four-year-old I'm the county
Could beat him for pretty and strong:
Poart and chinper and SASSY.
Always ready TO swear and fight
And I'd larnt him 10 chaw terbacker
Jest 10 keep his milk teeth white.
Tho snow came down like blanket
As I passed by Taggarts store;
went On fer a Jug Of molasses
md left the team at the door
They scared ai something and staried--
heard one little squaU
And hell-to-sDlit over the prairie
Went team. Little Brooches and all
Hell-to-splt over the prairie:
/ was almost froZe with skeer;
an rrr torches.
And searched for 'em far and near
AT last We struck bosses and wagon
showed under "a soft. white mound
Tnsot-dead beat-hut Of little Gabe
No hide nor hair was found
And here all hone soured on ne.
or nv fellOw-critters' aid:
lest foDned down on my marrow bones
crouch deep in the snow, and prayed
BY this the torches was Played out
And me and Isrul Parr
Went Off for some wood 70 sheepfold
That he said was sOmewhar thar
we found Il AT last. ond a little shed
Where they shut Up the lambs at night.
We looked in and seen them huddled thar,
So warm and sleepy and white,
And thar sot Little Brceches and chirped
As neart as ever you sec.
~ want n chaw OF terbacker,
And that's what's me matter OK me-"
How did he get thar Angels,
He could never ave walked in TIL storm
| They Jest scoOped down and tOted him
To whar II was safe and warm.
And I think that saving little child'