The Butler weekly times. (Butler, Mo.) 1881-1918, 1904-10-27
STORY OF A BOYS AMBITION
A Thrilling Incident at the Ma
turaI Bridge in Virginia.
BY ELIHU BURRITT.

/ @LAhN
There are three or four lads stand
ing in the channel below, looking ul
with awe to that vast arch OF un
hewn rocks, which the Almighty
bridged over those everlas ting abnt
ments when the morning stars sang
together" The little piece of sky
spanning those measureless piers j:
full of stars, although it is mid day
1t Is almost 500 feet from where
they stand, up those perpendicular
bulwarks OF limestone, to the key
rock OF that vast arch, which appears
to them only Of the siza of a mans
hand. The silence OF death is rem.
defed more impressive by the little
stream that falls from rock to rock
, down the channel. The sun is dark
ened, and the boys hive unconsciou. :
IL uncovered their head. as il stand
ing in the presence chamber OF the
Majesty OF the whole earth.
Az last this feeling begins to wear
off; they begin to look around them;
they find that Others have beenithere
before them. They see the names OF
hundreds cut in the limestone but
ments. A new feeling comes over
their young hearts, and their knives
are in their hands in an instant
what man has done, man can do,
is their watchword while they draw
themselves up, and carve their names
a foot above those OF n hundred full
grown men who have been there be-
fore them.
They are all satisfied with this feat
OF physical exertion, except one,
whose example illustrates perfectly
the forgotten truth that there is no
royal road to intellectual eminence.
The ambitious youth sees a name
just above his reach, name that
will be green In the memory OF the
world, when those of Alexander,
Caesar and Bonaparte shall rot in
oblivion. 1t was the name Of WASH
ington. Before he marched with
Braddock to that fatal field, he had
been there and left his name foot
above all his predecessors.
1t was glorious thought of the
boy to write his name side by side
with that Of the great father of his
country. He grasps his knife with a
firmer grasp; and, clinging to little
jutting craig, he cuts a niche into the
limestone about a foot above where
be stands; he then reaches up and
cuts another for his hands. IT'S a
dangerous adventure; but as he puts
his feet and hands into those inches,
and draws himself up carefully to his
full length, he finds himself q foot
above every name chronicled in that
mighty wall.
While his companions are regard
ing him with concern and admiration
he cuts his name in rude capitals,
large and deep into the flinty album.
His knife is still in his hand and
strength in his sinews. and a new
created inspiration In his heart.
Again he cuts another niche, again
he carves his name in larger capitals.
This is not enough. Needless Of the
entreaties Of his companions, he cuts
and climbs again. The gradatiods
OF bis ascending scale grows wider
apart. He measures his length at
every gain he cuts. The voices OF his
friends wax weaker and weaker; it'll
their words are finally lost on his
ear.
He now, for the first time, casts q
look beneath him. Had that look
lasted moment, that moment would
have been his last. He clings with
convulsive shudder to bis little niche
In the rock. An awful abyss awaits
his almost certain fall. He is faint
with severe exertion, and trembling
from the sudden view OF the dreadful
destruction to which he is exposed.