The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1905-08-11

man. climbed up on the house to the
gable end and began tearing OF boards.
len satd. HE is here; / hear him call,
Pa" But we all thought he was mis-
taken. But he said pa" again in q
low tone. Then we made a rush for
the door which was almost closed and
hard to Open, out Jesse Read pushed 1T
open and the little follow was standing
on one of the old sleepers that had
been left In the cabin, with the ewes
and lambs bleating all about him. for
the house was about full Of them. Jesse
Read mounted a horse and took the
boy and in a few minutes had him
back to Bob Clellnnd's and in his mas
arms. Elder Winnings was with us at
the house and sang out In the darkness
and rain. Praise God From Whom all
blessings Flow" Others also Joined in
the song. It was q touching scene
never to be forgotten.
Preacher Hitchcock told the incident
in . sermon In Illinois and ex-Secretary
John Hay heard him and wrote the
poem, Little Breeches." The boys
name is Marcus James Van Scoy, and
he was between 4 and s years old at
the time he got his fast ride that dark,
rainy night. 4 few years after l kept
a flock of sheep and Marcus herded
them on the prairie and I have seer
him driving them in with a little help
less lamb under each arm. Your obed-
lent servant. Sol. Van Scoy.
-
Following is the poem, Little Breeches,"
III full:-
I don't go much on religion.
! never amt had no show;
But I've got a midlin' tight grip. sir.
On the handful O. things I know
I don't pan out on the prophets,
And free-will and that sort of thing;
But l believe III God and the angels
Ever since ore night last spring.
And my little Gabe come along
No four-year-old In the country
Could beat him for pretty and strong,
Peart and chippy, and sassy,
And l learnt him to chaw tobacker
Just to keep his milk teeth white.
The snow come down IKE a blanket
AS l passed by Taggart's store, -
1 went in fer a jug Of molasses
And left the team at the door.
They scared at something and started
1 heard one little squall,
And hel-to-spIt over the prairie
Went team, Little Breaches and all.
Hell-to-split over the prairie;
I was almost froze with skeer;
But we rousted up some torches,
And searched for 'em far and near, I'd
AT last we struck horses and wagon.
Showed under a soft, white mound,
Upset. dead beat-but of little Gabe
No hide nor hair was found.
An here all hope soured ne,
Or my little fellow-critter's aid
I Jest Topped down on my marrow-bones
crutch deep in the snow and prayed.
BY this the torches was played out.
And me and Isrul Parr
Went off for some wood to a sheepfold
That he said was somewhat thar.
We found 1t at last, and 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 Brooches and chirped,
AS peart as ever you see,
~ want a chaw of terbacker,
And that's what's the matter Of me-"
How DID he git thar? Angels.
He could never have walked in that
They jest stopped down and toted him
To where it was safe n warm.
And him that savin' a little child,
And fotching him to his own,
Is a durn sight better business
Than loafin' around the Throne.
.- John Hay.