The Butler weekly times. (Butler, Mo.) 1881-1918, 1904-10-27

~ ANNAAE AAAN NUN VI INV o0A A0
merous voices both above and be
low. He can just distinguish th'
voice OF his father, who is shouting
with all the energy of despair: WI
lisml WilliamI Don't look down
Your mother, and Henry, and Harri
ct, are all her, praying for you! Keel
your eye toward the topl' The boy
didn't look down.
His eye is fixed like a flint TOWARD
Heaven, and his young heart on Hin
who reigns there. He grasps again
his knife. He cuts another niche, and
another foot is added to the hun
dreds that remove him from the reach
OF human help from below. How
carefully he uses his wasting blade
How anxiously be selects the soitest
places in that vast pierl How he
avoids every flinty grainl How he
economies his physical powers, rest.
ing a moment at each gain he cutsl
How every motion is watched from
below! There stand his father, moth
er, brother and sister, on the very
spot where, II he falls, he will not fal !
alone.
The sun is now hall way down the
west. The lad has made so addi-
tional inches in that mighty we'll,
and now finds himself directly under
the middle Of that vast arch of rocks
earth and trees. He must cut his
way in new direction, to get from
beneath this overhanging mountain.
The inspiration of hope is dying in
his bosom; It's vital heat is fed by the
increasing shouts oihundreds, perch
ed upon cliffs and trees, and Others
who stand with ropes in their hands
on the bridge above or with ladders
below. Fifty gains more must be
cut before the longest rope can reach
him.
His wasting blade strikes again
into the limestone, The hoy is emarg-
ing painfully, loot by foot, from
under that lofty arch. Splieed ropes
are ready in the hands OF those who
are leaning over the outer edge OF
the bridge. Two minutes more, and
all will be over The blade is worn
to the last half inch. The boys head
reels; his eyes are starting from their
sockets. His last hope is dying In
his heart; his life must hang upon the
next gain he cuts. That niche is his
last. At the last faint cash he makes
his knife, his faithful knife, falls from
his little nerveless hand, and, ringing
along the precipice, fall at his moth
er's feet.
An involuntary groan OF despair
runs like death knell through the
channel below, and all is as still as
the grave. At the height OF nearly
300 feet, the devoted boy lifts his
hopeless heart, and closes his eyes to
commend his soul to God. IT'S but
a moment-therel one foot swings
off! he is ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
over into eternity!
Hark! q shout falls on his
ear from above. The man who is
lying hall bis length over the bridge
has caught a glimpse Of the boys
head aud shoulders. Qnick as
thought the loosed rope is within
reach OF the sinking youth. No one
breathes. With a faint, convulsive
effort, the swooning boy drops his
arms into the moose. Darkness comes
over him, and with the words, God
and motherl whispered ON his lips
just loud enough to be heard In heav-
sn=the tightening rope Hits him out
of the last shallow niche.
Not lip moves while heis dangling
over that fearful abyss; but when q
sturdy Virginian reaches down and
draws up the lad, and holds up the
lad, and holds him up in his arms
before the fearful, breathless multi
tude, such shouting-such leaping
and weeping for ioy-never greeted
the ear Of q human being so recover
ed from the yswning gull Of eternity.