The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1905-08-03

have found his way there. 1t was cold
and misty and fine snow soon began to
fall. Torches were procured and sys-
tenatic search was organized and every
available light was put into use, pine
sticks, sunflowcr stocks and the like.
The party approached an old sheep shed
and tried to force open the door to find
some dry pine with which to make
light, but the sheep had crowded against
the door, so that it was impossible to
open it from the outside. jeff Thomp-
son, one of the farmers, climbed to the
roof of the shack to see if he could not
find way down and found an opening
and looked down into it with the small
light he still had left. What JEFF
Thompson said would not look we'll in
print for down there cuddled amongst
the sheep was little Marcus safe and
sound. 1t is supposed that when the
little fellow entered the structure he
| frightened the sheep to the front of the
room, thus blocking the door. A Metho-
dist preacher who was stationed in the
neighborhood at the time, later moved
to Warsaw, ILL.,, and there related the in
cident in a sermon, as an instance of the
John Hay was in the audience and was
so impressed with the incident that he
asked the preacher for details, and from
that sprang "Littlc Breeches," the not
able poem which follows herewith:
don't go much on religion,
! never amt had no show,
But I've got a mddlin' tight grip, sir,
On the handful Of things | know.
| don't pan out on the prophets,
And free-will and that sort of thing,
But b'lieve in God and the angels
Ever since one night last spring.
come into town with some turnips,
And my little Gabe came along
No 4-year-old in the country
Could beat him for pretty and strong.
Peart, and chippy, and sassy,
Always ready to swear and fight
And I'd larnt him to chaw terbacker,
Just to keep his milk teeth white.
The snow came down like blanket
AS | passed by Taggart's store;
/ went in for Jug of molasses
And left the team at the door.
They scared at something and started
heard one little squall,
And hell-to-split over the prairie
Went team, Little Brooches and all.
Hell-to-split over the prairie!
was almost froze with skeer,
But we rousted up some torches,
And searched for EN- far and near.
At last we struck horses and wagon,
Showed under soft white mound,
Upset, dead beat-but of little Gabe
No hide nor hair was found.
And here all hope soured on me,
OF my fellow critters aid
jest Topped down on my sparrowbones
Crotch deep in the snow and prayed
X x Il
By this time the torches was played out
And me and Isrul Parr
Went off for some wood to sheepfold
That he said was somewhat thar.
We found it at last, and little shed
Where they shut up the lambs at nigh
We looked in and seen EN- huddled thar
So warm, and sleepy, and white.
And thar sot Little Brooches and chirpct
r AS peart as ever you see,
81 want chaw Of terbacker,
And that's what the matter with me.
How did he get there? Angels.
He could never have walked in tina
storm,
They just swooped down and toted him
To whar it was safe and warm.
And think that saving little child
And fotching him to his own
Is burned sight better business
: Than loafing around the throne.
3 Nothing on the Market Equal t
Chamberlain's Collie, Cholera