Year: 1874




In the city of Hartford, Conn, lives
the hero Of the true story I am about to
relate-but no longer "little," as the
perilous adventure which made him
famous in his native town happened
several years ago.


Our hero was then a bright active
boy of fourteen-the son of mechanic.
In the severe winter of 1885, the father
worked in factory, about mile from
his home, and every day the boy car
ried him his dinner across piece of
meadow land.


One keen, frosty day he found the
snow on this meadow nearly two feet
deep, and'no traces of the little foot
path remaining. Yet he ran on as fast
as possible, plunging through drifts.
keeping himself warm by viecss1ous ex'
ercise and brave. cheerful t.hopg ghts.
fully haif 4 saii5 7 lI6m E lie i house, hs1 IL
suddenly ielt hildsalf going down,
|f He had fallen INTO well. He sank
down into the dark, icy water, but rose
f1ani6tiiately to the surface. There he
| 8xasped hold of plank which had fall.
en- into the we'll as he went down. One
end of this rested on the bottom of the
well-the other rose about four feet
above the surface of the water.


The poor lad shouted for help until
he was hoarse and almost speechless,
but all in vain, as it was impossible to
make himself heard from such depth,
and at such distance from any house.
So at last he concluded that if he was
saved at all he must save himself, and
begin at once, as he was getting ex-
tremely cold in the water. So he went
to work.


First, he drew himself up the plank,
and braced himself against the top OF
it and the wall of the well, which was OF
brick and quite smooth. Then he
pulled off his coat, and taking out his
pocket knife he cut off his boots, that
he might 60 to work to greater advan.
tage. Then, with his feet against one
side of the we'll, and his shoulders
against the other, he worked his way
up, by the most fearful exertion, about
half the distance to the top. Here he
was obliged to pause, to take breath
and gather up his energies for the work
yet before him. Far harder was it than
all he had gone through, fer the side
being from that point covered with ice,
he must cut with his knife, graspine
places with his fingers, slowly and care.
fully all the way up.


1t was almost hopeless attempt, but
it was all that he could do. And here
the little hero lifted up his heart to God
and prayed fervently for help, fearing
that he could never get out alone.


Doubtless the Lord heard his voice
calling from the deep, and pitied him
He wrought no miracle to save him, but
breathed into his heart a yet larger
measure of calmness and courage
strengthening him to work out his owr
deliverence.


After this, the little hero cut his way
upward, inch by inch. His wet stock.
ings froze to the ice and kept his feet
from slipping, but his shirt was quite
worn from his shoulders ere he reached
the top.


He did reach it at last-crawled out
into the snow, and lay down for a mo-
ment to rest-panting out his breath in
little white clouds on the clear frosty
air.


He had been two hours and half in
the we'll


His clothes soon froze to his body,
but he no longer suffered with cold, as
full of Joy and thankfulness, he ran to
the factory, where his father was wait
ing and wondering.


The poor man was obliged to 60 with.
out his dinner that day, but you may
be sure he cared little about that, while
listening with tears in his eyes to the
thrilling story his son had to relate tc
him.


He must have been proud of the boy
that day, as he wrapped him in his OWL
warm overcoat, and took him home to
"mother."


And how that mother must have wept
and smiled over the lad, and kissed him
and thanked God for him


I have not heard of the " little hero
for two or three years, but I trust he il
growing up into O brave, heroic man
and I hope he will never forget the
heavenly friend who did not forget hin
in the hour of his great need.


There is an old saying that truth lies
at the bottom of well.


I trust that this brave boy found and
brought up from there this truth: God
helps those who help themselves. -
Grace Greenwood.