The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1908-03-11
121e Secret ST His Courage

The Blue Wing steamed up the river heavily
freighted that morning; throng of city children
We're aboard, on their way to a picnic at Beck
ners Point.
a more beautiful place than Beckners Point
for day outing could scarcely have been found;
q long, level bank, with here and there spreading
naples or clustering locusts, which made great
circles of shade with spaces large and smooth
enough between for tennis and croquet. A few
rods farther up the river making the northern
boundary of the grounds. was low. shrub-grown
pronontory. jutting out almost to the current, on
the other side of which was little boat that Mr.
Beckner kept anchored there, at the foot of his
lawn. ready to serve such members of his family
We're masters of the oar
One objection might have been urged to these
pleasure grounds; the high chimneys of the fac
tory at the other end of the bridge (for Just at
this point the bridge spanned the rver) some
times sent puffs of smoke to picnckers when
the wind was from the south. But today the
breeze was from the north. Anyway. what would
the discomfort of little smoke have been to
children.
cordial greeting they knew awaited them
and sure enough, shortly after they had landed.
Mr. Beckner circulating among the groups
making new and renewing old acquaintance. He
had but one arm. the other he had lost years be
fore, but what a lot of handshaling he did with
the one hand he had.
The delightful day was drawing to it's close In
half an hour the eXcursionists must board the
Blue Wing so as TO reach the city by twilight.
They We're gathering expectantly along the
bank when suddenly a cry of terror went up
from the children nearest the promontory, a cry
that was increased in volume as group after
group took in the appalling situation. The little
boat that belonged the other side of the pro
montory rounding the curve, and clinging to
its upturned sides-for it had evidently been cap
sized-were two children, The boat was drifting
slowly toward the current, which was swift and
deep. They We're cinging desperately. To release
their hold meant death. They seemed to under
stand this; but how long would the strength in
their little hands last?
inf
lace. There We're prayers and tears, wild cries
for help, and wilder suggestions of succor A
bravehearted swimmer threw himself into the
stream and made for the boat. He was soon
Joined by another They reached it in time to
save one child, but too late for the other, who
holding on to a short piece of board-it had been
the foot rest in the boat-was soon in the middle
of the current In little while he must be
drowned, reaching the bridge be dashed
against pier and killed
Everyone rushed to the bridge and watched the
little doomed speck nearer cry of an
guish assembled from Mr.. Beckner's lips 1T was
his own child, Henry, his youngest and dearest
What could he do! He could not swim-he had
but one arm, and if he leaped into the water it
meant certain death for him. and for Henry too
if the child should come within his reach. The
horrible thought to throw himself over and die
with the boy came into his mind. But he repealed
it, and after prayer in his heart to Him with