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FROM THE BEQUEST OF

Lucy Osgood

OF MEDFORD, MASSACHUSETTS

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AMERICAN BOOK

GOLDEN DEEDS

JAMES BALDWIN

AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED," "OIJ) GREEK
STORIES," "THE GOLDEN FLEECE," ETC

NEW YORK :. CINCINNATI :• CHICAGO

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

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Entbrkd at Stationers' Hall, Londok.

AM. BK. GOLDBN DBBDS.

w. P. 13

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TO THE READER

As you open this boiok you will probably ask,
" What is a golden deed ? "

Let me tell you. It is the doing of something
for somebody erse — doing it without thought of
self, without thought of reward, fearlessly, heroic-
ally, and because it is a duty.

Such a deed is possible to you, to me, to every-
body. It is frequently performed without fore-
thought or definite intention. It is the spontaneous
manifestation of nobility, somewhere, of mind or
heart. It may consist merely in the doing of some
kind and helpful service at home or at school. It
may be an unexpected test of heroism — a warn-
ing of danger, a saving of somebody's life. It may
be an act of benevolence, or a series of such acts,
world-wide in application and results.

This little volume is only a book of samples.
Here are specimens of golden deeds of various
kinds and of different degrees of merit, ranging

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4 TO THE READER

from the unpremeditated saving of a railroad train
to the great humanitarian movement which carries
blessings to all mankind. To attempt to tell of
every such deed, or of every one that is eminently
worthy, would fill a multitude of books. The ex-
amples which I have chosen are such only as have
occurred on American soil, or have been performed
by Americans, thus distinguishing the volume from
Miss Charlotte Yonge's " Book of Golden Deeds,^'
published for English readers fifty years ago.
While some of these narratives may have the
appearance of romance, yet they are all believed
to be true, and in most cases the real name of the
hero, or of the lover of humanity, is given.

Instances of doing and daring have always a
fascination for young people, and when to these
is added the idea of a noble underlying motive
the lessons taught by them cannot fail to be bene-
ficial.

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CONTENTS

PART FIRST — HUMBLE HEROES

PAGE

"Partners*' 9

A Modest Lad 16

The Boiler Cleaners -21

Tom Flynn of Virginia 24

Peter Woodland 27

A Quick-witted Mountain Girl 34

A Lad. OF the Docks 39

Patrick McCormick's Holiday . . . . . -44

Little Boy Blue and Golyer's Ben 47

The Red Skirt 54

The Bootblack from- Ann Street 58

The Race with the Flood 63

Heroic Madelon . . 67

The Heroine of Fort Henry 80

Thomas Hovenden — Artist 93

"Are you there, my Lad?" 98

A Hero of Valley Forge 102

The Wilderness Preacher no

A Patriotic Quakeress 118

Ezekiel and Daniel . . . • > . . .129

Through Smoke and Fire 134

Heroes of the Storm 139

The Life Savers of Lone Hill 145

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6 CONTENTS

PART SECOND — LOVERS OF MANKIND

PAGB

The School Children's Friend 157

"A Knight without Reproach" 167

The Story of Mary Lyon . 174

The Apostle of the Indians 181

An Unappreciated Patriot 189

A Princely Merchant 195

In Arctic Seas 201

Five Scenes in a Noble Life 210

"An Angel of Mercy" 226

The Sympathy of Abraham Lincoln . . . . .245

The Sanitary Commission 248

"The Tombs Angel" 256

The Red Cross 262

The Little Mother 278

PART THIRD — THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

The Object of the Commission 289

The Youngest of the Heroes 291

A Race to Death 292

The Dynamite Hero 295

A Rare Act of Courage 297

Saving One's Enemy . . . ' 299

A Schoolgirl's Heroism . . . o . . . 303

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PART FIRST
HUMBLE HEROES

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Oh, dream not helm or harness

The sign of valor true ;
Peace hath higher tests of manhood

Than battle ever knew.

—John G. Whittier.

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HUMBLE HEROES

"PARTNERS"

Little Mackie, as his friends called him, was
an inmate of the Hospital for Crippled Children.
He was a small boy and his years were few, yet
his face was already drawn and seamed with lines
of suffering. One of his feet was twisted and the
other almost useless; yet he could hobble around
very nimbly on his crutches, and he took great
pleasure in helping other boys who were worse off
than himself.

His particular friend and crony was Dannie
O'Connell, whose cot adjoined his own. Dannie
was a helpless little fellow, with legs that were no
better than none and a back so weak that he could
not sit up without props. Many were the hours
which little Mackie spent at Dannie's bedside, and
many were the words of encouragement and hope
that he poured into the ears of the helpless child.

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10 HUMBLE HEROES

"We're partners, Dannie," he would say. "When
I get bigger V\\ be a bootblack down on the Square,
and you and mell go halvers in the profits."

" But what could I do ? " queried Dannie. " I
couldn't help with the business. Why, I can't even
hold myself up."

" Oh, you'll be lots better by that time," answered
the ever hopeful Mackie. " I'll get you a high
chair with wheels under it, so that I can trundle
you around. And I'll get a little candy stand at
the corner for you to 'tend to. I'll shine 'em up for
the fine gentlemen that come that way, and you'll
Sell candy to the ladies. They'll all want to trade
with you when they see you sitting there in your
high chair."

" I think it will be very nice," sighed Dannie ;
and he lay gazing up toward the ceiling and trying
to forget his troubles.

"Of course it will be nice," said Mackie; "and
don't you forget that we'll be partners."

One night when all the children were in their
cots an alarm was sounded. What could it mean ?
Soon the cry of fire wa$ heard, and then a great

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''PARTNERS'' n

rushing and hurrying in the halls and on the stair
ways. Little Mackie jumped up and seized his
crutches, and all the other boys in the ward began
to cry out in alarm. But their nurse soothed them
and told them that they need not be afraid, for she
was quite sure that the fire was in a distant part of
the building, and would soon be put out.

Little Mackie lay down again, but he kept his
eyes wide open. " Hey, Dannie, partner," he
whispered, very softly, "don't be scared. I'm
watching out for you, and nurse says there's no
danger."

The noise outside grew louder, and there was
more of it. Mackie could hear the people running.
He could hear the children screaming in the other
wards. Soon he saw the red light of the flames
shining through the narrow window above the
door. Then he smelled the smoke and saw it
coming into the room through every crevice and
crack. The nurse turned pale with fear and did
not seem to know what to do.

Then three men rushed in — firemen with big
hats on their heads and waterproof capes on their
shoulders. Each took two children in his arms

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12 HUMBLE HEROES

and with the fainting nurse hurried away through
the strangling smoke.

" Be brave! We'll be back for you in a mrnute,"
said one of them as he ran past Dannie and Mackie.

The two " partners " were left alone in the room.
Mackie could hear the crackling and roaring of the
flames. He could even see them creeping along
the floor and licking up the carpet in the lower
hallway. He could feel their hot breath. In an-
other minute they would reach the wooden stairs,
and then how could any one ever come up to save
the children that were still in the wardsi

" Run, Mackie ! " cried Dannie, trying in vain to
sit up. " I guess they forgot to come back. Run,
Mackie, and don't wait for me."

" No, I don't run, so long as you're my partner,"
said Mackie.

He was leaning on his crutches by the side of
Dannie's cot.

** Put your arms round my neck, Dannie. That's
how. Now hold on, tight ! Snuggle your face
down over my shoulder. That's right; now we'll
go. Hold fast, and don't swallow any more smoke
than you can help, Dannie."

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''PARTNERS'' 13

Clack! clack! clack! Through the smothering
smoke the little crutches clattered out of the room
and into the burning hallway. And Dannie, with
his arms clasped around his partner's neck, and
his shriveled legs dangling helplessly behind, was
borne half-fainting through the fearful din.

Clack ! clack ! clack ! Mackie was so short and
his head was so near to the floor that he escaped
the thickest part of the smoke, which rolled in
clouds toward the ceiling. He hurried to the stair-
way, keeping his face bent downward and his eyes
half closed. He did not dare to speak to Dannie,
for he had no breath to spare.

Outside of the building there were many busy
hands and many anxious faces.

" Have all the children been saved ? " asked one
of the managers of the hospital.

" Oh, sir, not all," was the sad answer. " There
were a few in the upper wards who could not be
saved, the fire spread so rapidly. And there are
still two little boys in the lower ward whom it is
impossible to reach."

"Surely these boys ought to be rescued," cried
the manager. " Won't some one try to reach them? "

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14 HUMBLE HEROES

" Sir," answered a helper who had already carried
ten children out of the flaming building, " it is too
late. The stairways are all blazing, and the ward
itself is full of fire."

In fagt, the flames could now be seen bursting
out of every window.

Clack! clack! clack!

What sound was that on the marble steps before
the smoke-filled door of the doomed hospital ? It
was not a loud noise, but those who stood nearest
heard it quite plainly amid all the other sounds, the
snapping of the burning wood, the roaring of the
flames, the falling of heavy timbers.

Then right out from beneath the cloud of smoke
came little Mackie, bearing Dannie upon his shoul-
ders. Helping hands were stretched forth to receive
him, and the brave lad fell fainting in the arms of a
big policeman.

Dannie was scarcely harmed at all, though dread-
fully frightened. But Mackie's poor hands were
badly scorched and his eyebrows were singed off.
His nightshirt was burned through in a dozen
places. His bare, crippled feet were blistered by
the fallen coals he had stepped upon. His little

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''PARTNERS'' 15

body was full of hurts and bums. Kind arms
carried him to a place of safety; but for a long
time he lay senseless to all that was happening
around him.

When at last he awoke to consciousness his first
thought was to inquire for Dannie. Then, as he
turned painfully in the little bed where they had
laid him, he closed his eyes again and said, " Me
and Dannie are partners, don't you know? "

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A MODEST LAD

John Gregg's home was in Maryland. His
father and mother were dead, and he lived
on a farm with his married sister.

One afternoon when he was about twelve years
old he was sent on an errand to the nearest town.
The day was quite warm and he followed the
shortest path, which led him after a while to the
tracks of the railroad. A great rain had fallen in
the morning and every brook and rivulet was full of
muddy, rushing water.

As John went merrily tripping along the tracks
he came suddenly upon that which made him stop
in surprise. At a point where an angry brook
went tearing along by the side of the road the
embankment had given way. The ties were out
of place and one of the rails seemed almost ready
to fall into the brook.

"What if a train should come now?" was the
boy's first thought.

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A MODEST LAD 17

As if in answer to his question the whistle of
an engine was faintly heard far down the road.
He knew that it was just time for the Colonial
express to pass that place. He knew that it was
running at the rate of a mile a minute and that
scores of lives were in danger. Without stopping
to think, he pulled ofif his coat and ran swiftly
along the tracks to meet the train. He swung
his coat wildly above his head and shouted with
all his might. But who could hear his voice above
the rumble and roar of the great express ?

The engineer saw the lad. He threw on the
emergency brakes. The train stopped so quickly
that the passengers were thrown out of their seats.

"What's the matter, boy?" cried the engineer,
half angrily.

"Wash — out — down there. Track — caved in
~ thought I'd tell you," gasped the boy, all out of
breath.

The engineer leaped from the cab, and running
forward a few paces was horrified to see the danger
his train had escaped. He hurried back just as the
passengers came rushing from the coaches.

"A narrow escape," he said, pointing to the

GOLDEN DEEDS — 2

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1 8 HUMBLE HEROES

washout. " If it hadn't been for this boy, we'd have
been dead men. But where is the boy } "

" Yes, where is the boy } " echoed the passengers.
But no boy was to be found.

As* soon as John Gregg had answered the
engineers question, he had dodged into the
woods and was now hurrying away on his errand.

"Where is the boy who saved the Colonial ex-
press and the lives of perhaps a hundred passen-
gers?" was the question which many people asked
during the next few days. The officers of the
railroad sent out a man to find him.

" It must have been an angel," said some ; "for
what mere boy would do such a thing and not
be running everywhere and boasting about it ? "

The engineer's description of the lad was repeated
to the farmers in the neighborhood.

" Why, that fits Johnnie Gregg better'n any other
boy I know," said one.

" Yes," said another, " and now that you speak of
it, I do remember seeing Johnnie go past my house
that very afternoon. I rather reckon it must have
been Johnnie. He's a bashful lad, and never puts
himself forward."

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A MODEST LAD 19

" Where does this Johnnie Gregg live ? " asked
the railroad man.

" Oh, he lives with his married sister a matter of
three miles from here. Follow the main road, and
you can't help but find the place. It's the second
white house after you pass the third corner."

The man, after getting some further directions,
drove on. He found the house without trouble.

" I want to see the boy known as Johnnie Gregg,"
he. said.

Soon a bright-faced lad in knickerbockers came
into the room.

" Is your name John Gregg ? "

"Yes, sir."

" Are you the lad that saved the Colonial express
a few weeks ago ? "

"I — I told the engineer about the washout."

" Do you know that you saved the lives of a num-
ber of passengers besides a great deal of property for
the railroad company } "

John blushed and twisted his legs uneasily. " I
only told the engineer about it," he answered.

" Well, at any rate," said the man, " you did a
noble deed and the officers of the railroad are very

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20 HUMBLE HEROES

grateful to you. I am authorized to say that your
name will be placed on the company's pay roll and
that you can go through any college you choose at
their expense. Don't you think you would like to
go to college, Johnnie ? "

" I am sure I don't know," he answered. He had
never heard much about colleges ; he didn't exactly
know what they were like.

" If you would rather learn a trade," said the man,
" the company will help you to learn the very best
and will pay all the cost. Do you think of any
trade you would like 1 "

Johnnie blushed and fidgeted. He had never
given much thought to such things, and the ques-
tion was hard to answer. At last he said, " I guess
I'd rather be a fireman than anything else."

"Well not hurry you for a decision," said the
man. " Your pay will begin with the day you saved
the train, and you may have a year to make up your
mind as to what you would rather do. Good-by,
and God bless you 1 "

"Good-by, sir!"

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THE BOILER CLEANERS

In the engine room of a great machine shop
in Indiana, William Phelps and another man are
cleaning a boiler.

It is night. The machinery is at a standstill.
Engineers and firemen have gone home. Besides
Phelps and his companion there is not another man
in the room.

The boiler which they are cleaning has not been
in use for some days. The water has been drawn
from it. It is waiting for repairs. But beneath its
companions in the adjoining room the fires are still
glowing red, and the steam sizzles shrilly from be-
neath their safety valves.

The two men are inside of the boiler. To get
there they have been obliged to creep through a
small, round opening on the upper side. This open-
ing is barely large enough to admit the body of a
slender man. Through it passes all the air which
the cleaners can have while working at this un-
pleasant task. Beneath it hangs a dimly burning

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22 HUMBLE HEROES

lantern which gives them all the light they are
thought to need.

They are busy with their scrubbing brushes and
scrapers, removing the lime with which the interior
of the boiler has become coated. They are ac-
customed to the work, and they do not mind the
dimness of the light, the heaviness of the air, the
cramping discomfort of the place. As for danger,
what danger could there be inside of an empty
boiler .?

Suddenly there is a strange, hissing sound at the
farther end of the boiler. Then a cloud of hot
steam begins to fill the space around them.

" What's that ? " cries William Phelps, starting
quickly up.

Through some sort of accident a valve has been
opened in one of the large pipes which connect this
boiler with another in the adjoining room. The
scalding vapor is pouring through in a steady
stream.

William Phelps is nearest to the opening which is
the only means of eiscape. He may save himself if
he will act quickly. But, no ; he steps aside and
cries : " Out with you, Jim ! You first ! "

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THE BOILER CLEANERS 23

Jim's body entirely fills the opening. He wriggles
slowly through, almost paralyzed with fear and the
pain of the scalding steam. He shouts the alarm.
Watchmen in the near-by rooms hear him, and
come with helping hands to lift him out.

But where is William Phelps ? The boiler is
filled with steam. He has only enough strength
remaining to push his head through the opening.
Then he loses all consciousness.

The men seize hold of his shoulders and pull him
out. From his neck to the soles of his feet he is as
thoroughly scalded as though he had been dipped
in boiling water.

They lay him on the floor. They apply re-
storatives. They send for a surgeon.

In a little while he opens his eyes.

" Jim," he gasps, " Tm glad you got out safe. It
was your right to go first : you have a wife and
child. And I— Tm only Bill Phelps."

Jim turns away, weeping.

The next moment the surgeon arrives. " Too
late," he says, as he looks at the silent form before
him. " No man can live after such a bath as
that."

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TOM FLYNN OF VIRGINIA

Did you ever hear of Flynn — Tom Flynn of
Virginia ? His story is somewhat like that of Wil-
liam Phelps. His heroism was of the same golden
quality.

It was in the early mining days in California.
Flynn was there — a rough fellow far from home
and friends. If there were any qualities of gentle-
ness in his heart, he had hitherto been careful to
conceal them.

One day he was at work with another miner deep
down in the ground. They had reached their place
of labor by passing through a narrow tunnel the
roof of which was supported by wooden beams.

Suddenly a noise as of falling rocks alarmed
them. They ran to the lower end of the tunnel.
The beams at that place were giving way. Already
the tunnel was choked up with fallen rubbish.

Nor was this the worst. One of the main beams

was just ready to tumble down. They knew that if

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TOM FLYNN OF VIRGINIA 25

it fell, the whole roof of the tunnel would fall with
it — there would be no escape for them.

They hurriedly threw their shoulders against it
just as its last support was beginning to crumble
beneath it. They could hold it up and thus prevent
the roof from entirely caving in. But of what avail
would it be to stand there while there was no hope
of other help,?

" I think I can hold it up a short time, Jake," said
Tom Flynn. " I'll try it while you look for some
piece of timber to put under it. Be quick about it,
Jake, for it's growing heavier."

The man groped around in the darkness. Among
all the fallen rubbish there was not a stick that could
be of any use.

Tom Flynn felt the great beam slowly settling
down. Other supports were giving way. His own
strength was failing.

But he braced himself up manfully and shouted:
" Run, Jake ! Run for your life. For your wife's
sake, run! Don't mind me. I think I can hold
this beam till you get out."

Jake ran, stumbling and panting, toward the
little point of daylight which he saw glimmering

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26 HUMBLE HEROES

far away at the end of the tunnel. Suddenly he
heard a crash behind him, he felt a rushing of air at
his back. He struggled forward into the light. He
turned and saw that the tunnel was no more.

And Tom Flynn of Virginia? He would have
been forgotten long ago had not Bret Harte told
of his heroism in a ballad which I have but re-
peated to you in prose.

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PETER WOODLAND

Peter Woodland was a Dane. He had been in
this country nine years and was foreman of some
workmen who were helping to build the first tunnel
under the Hudson River.

This tunnel was more than a mile in length, ex-
tending from Jersey City to the opposite shore of
Manhattan. It was so deep down that its roof was
beneath the bed of the river.

Day after day, month after month, Peter Wood-
land and his companions worked in this tunnel.
Above them glided tugboats, ferryboats, steamships,
and even mighty battleships; and but few people
dreamed of the busy men who were toiling silently
at the risk of their lives a hundred feet beneath the
surface of the great river. The light of the sun
never reached these men at their work; the roar
and rumble of the city streets never disturbed them.

The work was begun at the Jersey City end. A
great shaft or well was sunk straight down to the
desired level, and then the tunnel was dug through

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28 HUMBLE HEROES

mud and ooze and solid rocks and treacherous sand.
As fast as it was dug, it was walled overhead and
on the sides with bricks and stone and plates of
steel. The masons kept close behind the diggers,
and the wall was never more than a few feet from
the farthest end of the excavation.

As the workmen slowly pushed their way out
under the river, why did not the mud and rocks
above them fall in before the protecting wall could
be built? This was prevented* in part by roofing
the un walled portion of the tunnel with strong iron
plates; but the roof of itself was not sufficient to
support the great pressure above.

Every boy knows how air when forced into the
tire of a bicycle will expand the rubber tubing and
enable it to sustain a very great weight. Similarly,
compressed air was forced into the unwalled part of
the tunnel, thus helping to support the vast pressure
of mud and water and rocks upon the temporary
roof. Had it not been for this device the whole
thing would have collapsed and the tunnel would
have been impossible.

Fitting closely inside of the walled part of the
tunnel there was an iron chamber fifteen feet in

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PETER WOODLAND 29

length. This chamber was called the air lock, and
it was moved along as fast as the wall was com-
pleted. It was made to fit so closely that no water
or air could pass between it and the inner surface
of the wall.

At each end of the air lock there was a heavy
door, and in the center of each door there was a
round pane of very thick glass called a bull's-eye.
Both the doors opened toward the unfinished end
of the tunnel.

At midnight, every night, Peter Woodland and
twenty-seven other men went down into the tunnel
to work. ^ They entered by means of a ladder,
through the deep shaft in Jersey City. They went
on through the finished portion till they came to
the air lock. . This they entered, the farther or
lower door being already closed. When all were
in, the upper door was closed and air was forced
into the chamber until it was of the same density
as the compressed air in the unfinished portion of
the tunnel below. Then the lower door was opened,
and the men passed out to their work.

It was not possible for them to work long in such
air. After a few hours they would return into the

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30 HUMBLE HEROES

air lock. The compressed air would be drawn off.
They would return to their homes for rest, and
twenty-eight other men would take their places.

One night Peter Woodland and his men had
been at work as usual for nearly four hours. It
was about the time for their early morning lunch.
A few of the men had already dropped their picks
and were starting for their dinner pails. The
lower door of the air lock was open.

Suddenly there was an ominous sizzling and a
rushing of water between two of the iron plates
in the roof.

Peter Woodland sprang forward.

" All hands to stop this leak ! " he cried.

But it was too late. The water poured through
in a torrent. There was no possible way to stop
it. One of the iron plates was misplaced.

Peter Woodland stood upright, trying if he might
be able with his two hands to stanch the flow a little.

" Quick, men ! " he cried. " Into the air lock,
every one of you."

He himself might have been the first to go.
But, no ; he stepped aside and pushed the others
in as fast as they came up.

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"Quick, menl Into the air lockl"

[31J

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32 HUMBLE HEROES

Seven men had entered; but as the eighth
reached the door, the heavy iron plate above it
fell upon him. He dropped down as though dead,
while the iron plate rested against the door in
such a way as to close it within a few inches.
Not another man cotild pass through.

Peter Woodland and nineteen others were
caught as in a trap, and the river was pouring in
upon them.

The seven men in the air lock were also en-
trapped ; for the pressure of the air against the
upper door was so strong that they could not
open it. The water was pouring through the
lower doorway over the body of their dead
companion.

" Stop up the doorway with your coats ! "
shouted Peter Woodland.

They had left their coats with their dinner pails
in the air lock when they went out to work.
These they seized and thrust into the opening of
the doorway. They pulled off their shirts and
pushed them in also. The flowing of the water
into the air Jock was checked, although the cham-
ber was now almost half full.

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PETER WOODLAND 33

Unless they could open the upper door, their
respite would be but short. They would still be
drowned like rats in a hole.

Then they heard the voice of Peter Woodland
again, "Break the bull's-eye in the upper door!
Kick it out!"

The men saw him. The water was already to
his chin. The nineteen men behind him were in
the same sad plight.

" Break it I " he cried. " It's your only chance.
If you're saved, do what you can for the rest of us."

These were his last words.

They broke the bull's-eye. The compressed air
escaped. The upper door was easily opened. The
seven men rushed out, the water following them as
they ran. They gained the great shaft at the
entrance. They climbed the ladder in breathless
haste. At the top they turned and looked back.

The tunnel was full of water. Of the twenty-
eight men who had gone down at midnight, twenty-
one would never return. The seven who were
saved owed their lives to the presence of mind
and unselfish heroism of humble Peter Woodland.

GOLDEN DEEDS — 3

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A QUICK-WITTED MOUNTAIN GIRL

On a hillside overlooking a deep ravine in Col-
orado stood the little brown house which Nora
O'Neill called her home. There was very little
level ground near it. The front yard sloped down-
ward, five hundred feet or more, to a broad ledge of
solid rock at the foot of which was a railroad track.
On the farther side of the track the land again
dipped steeply down to the bottom of the ravine,
where ran a roaring mountain stream. At the
back of the house the hill rose mountain high and
was covered with a dense growth of stunted trees
and straggling underwoods.

One evening as Nora was helping her mother
with the kitchen work they heard a rumbling,
rattling sound on the railroad track below them.

"What is that, mother?" asked Nora, running
to the door to listen.

" Oh, it's nothing but the handcar going back to
town with the men," answered her mother, whose
hearing was by no means the sharpest.

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A QUICK-WITTED MOUNTAIN GIRL 35

" Well, I never heard it make that kind of noise,"
said Nora. " It sounded more like a coal wagon
unloading coal, and not at all like the handcar. I
have a notion to go down and see what it was."

" Nonsense, Nora," said her mother. " You're only
wanting to shirk your work. Look at the clock.
It's just about the time the men always go back.
They'll barely get to the station and lift the car off
the track before the Rio Grande express goes by."

Nora said no more. She finished her work
and then went to the door to listen for the com-
ing express. Soon she heard a faint whistle
echoing down the valley through the dusky
twilight. The train was skirting the farther side
of the great bend and, by way of the winding
road, was still several miles distant. Nora ran
down to the side of the track to wait for its
coming. She had done this every evening through
the summer and it was a source of much enjoy-
ment to her. She liked to see the great coaches
glide past, each one brilliant with light and full
of well-dressed travelers.

" I wonder where all those people come from
and where they are going," she often said to herself.

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36 BUMBLE HEROES

She was scarcely halfway down to the track
when she was surprised to see something like a
dark shadow lying across it. What could it be?

She hastened her footsteps. Soon it was all
plain to her. A big bowlder with several smaller
rocks ha:d become loosened from its place above
and had slid down upon the rails. No doubt it
had fallen soon after the handcar had passed
down, and it was this which she and her mother
had heard.

What should she do? The express would be
there within less than five minutes. There was
no time for thought.

She pushed against the bowlder with all her
strength. She might as well have pushed against
the mountain itself, and this she knew in a
moment.

Then she turned and ran back toward the house
faster than you or I could run up so steep a hill.

" Quick, mother, quick ! " she cried. " The oil
can ! the oil can ! "

As she ran she picked up a stick of dry
pine that was lying by the path. The can of
kerosene was in its usual place. She seized it and

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A QUICK-WITTED MOUNTAIN GIRL 37

dashed the oil over one end of the stick. She had
seen her father do this once when he was in haste
for a light. It was his way of making a torch.

"Are you crazy, child?" cried her mother.

But Nora did not hear. She quickly lighted
the stick in the fire of the kitchen stove. Then,
holding her blazing torch high above her head,
she ran down the hill by another path in the
direction of the train.

The roar of the great express could now be
plainly heard. Nora reached the track not a
moment too soon.

"What in the world does that mean?" said
the engineer as, peering through the dusk, he
saw a girl with a flaming torch standing on the
road. He did not know that, just around the
next short curve, destruction was lurking. He
blew the whistle ; the girl did not stir. He threw
on the brakes as hard as they would go. The
train slowed up suddenly, but not too soon.

Nora leaped aside as the pitiless engine rolled
past her. It rolled on around the curve. It
came to a standstill just as its pilot struck the
great bowlder.

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38 HUMBLE HEROES

"What IS the matter?" cried the passengers
rushing out in great alarm.

" Matter enough," said the engineer. " Do you
see that bowlder on the tracks? If this girl had
not signaled us just in time, the whole train
would have gone down into the gully there. We
all owe our lives to her."

The passengers crowded around Nora. The
women kissed her. The men thanked her a
dozen times over. She told her story in answer
to their questions. A purse full of silver and green-
backs was offered to her.

" I didn't do it for pay," she said. " And
besides, it wasn't much to do. It wasn't worth
so much money."

" You have saved perhaps a dozen lives," said
the conductor, " and certainly that is a good deal
to do. We shall never be able to pay you all
that we owe you."

Help soon arrived. The bowlder was removed
and the track was repaired. Then the train moved
away while more than one of the passengers called
down heaven's blessing upon the child whose
golden deed had saved their lives that night.

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A LAD OF THE DOCKS

Do you know Jimmie Dooling, down on Front
Street? Ask any sailor or longshoreman in that
part of the city and he will tell you all about
him.

Jimmie is thirteen years old, although you would
not think so. He is a wiry, tough little fellow, used
to all kinds of weather and all kinds of poor fare.
His clothes are often ragged, and his iface is not
always clean. He lives with his father and mother
in two dingy little rooms in the dingiest part of
Manhattan. He has never lived anywhere else,
and all the world that he knows is within a mile of
his home. But no one knows the piers and docks
of lower East River better than he.

" Why," said a longshoreman, " Jimmie's always
around there. You can see him first on a pier, then
on a tug, and then maybe on the deck of a three-
master. Then the next thing you know he's swim-
ming in some dock. He's just like a fish. You

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40 HUMBLE HEROES •

can't drown him, and you can't make him afraid.
He's a brave lad, Jimmie is."

" That's a fact," said the policeman, whose beat is
along that part of the street. " Why, that lad has
saved five or six lives already. He's what some
folks call a wharf rat ; but if there ever was a hero,
Jimmie Dooling's one."

The reporter of a city paper who was gathering
news in that section wished to know something
more about the lad whom every one was praising.

" Well, here he comes now," said the policemaa
"Ask him to tell you about the boy he saved
yesterday."

Jimmie has never attended school more than a
week or two at a time, and he has never studied
lessons in language. But he can tell a story with
as much zest as many a boy whose life has been
cast in pleasanter places.

" Well, you see it was this way," he says. " The
boys were playin' on the old pier up there toward
the bridge — the pier that they're tearin' down so
as to build a new one.

" I guess there were eight or ten of 'em all to-
gether, and they were playin' tag on the pier, and

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A LAD OF THE DOCKS 41

jumpin' over to the old coal barge that's tied up
alongside of it. I wasn't playin'. I was gettin'
wood for Scanlan, that man that lives next
door.

" Well, Scanlan has a little cart, and I was drawin'
away the loose wood that they were tearin' off from
the old pier. It was mostly sticks and the ends of
broken planks. I had been workin' at that wood
for two or three hours and had hauled four or five
loads to Scanlan's.

" I heard the six o'clock whistles blow, and just
then I heard a big splashin' in the water. I looked
around and saw a boy in the water just by the
planks at the end of the pier. It was Charlie
Tague, a little fellow who lives on our street. He
is ten years old, and he can't swim a stroke.

" Those other boys, they just stood around and
didn't know what to do. But when it comes to
drownin', you've got no time to think. A dozen
persons might drown while you're thinkin' only
once.

" I just jumped in and grabbed the boy as he was
comin' up for the last time. I held him by the
collar and floated him around to the pier. I got

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42 HUMBLE HEROES

hold of the end of a plank and held on till a man
came along and pulled us out. I don't know who
the man was, but he was young lookin' and had on
nice clothes and said nothin'.

" I tell you I was a sorry-lookin' fellow when they
pulled me and Charlie up. The place where I
jumped in was full of mud — ^ black mud — and it
came up to my waist. That black mud sticks like
tar, and it was all over me when they pulled me out.
That's why I've got my new pants on, and my new
stockin's, and my new shoes.

" No ; Charlie wasn't hurt much. As for me, I
only banged my knee against the end of a spike
nail. If the tide had carried us under the pier, it
would have been the end of us ; but I understood
about that, and so guarded against it.

" As soon as Charlie could walk I led him 'round
to his home. Oh, but he was a wet fellow ! As
soon as I got him in the hallway, I said, ' So long,
Charlie!' and sneaked away. I didn't want to
bother Mrs. Tague with thankin' of me."

Four months after this Jimmie saved the life of
Johnnie Hart, who fell from the pier just above the
old one that was being rebuilt. He led Johnnie

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A LAD OF THE DOCKS 43

home and then ran to his own lodgings on Front
Street.

" Say, pa!" he cried, as he came into the room,
" I've saved another boy. What do you think I am
now.'* Don't you think I'm a rattler.?"

Who can blame the lad for being proud of his
achievements.? His highest ambition is to win a
medal for saving lives.

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PATRICK McCORMICK^S HOLIDAY

He was as quiet a man as ever rode on a fire
engine. He never had a thought of being a hero,
and nobody would have picked him out as such.
He had served in the fire department of Chicago
for twenty years and was always the same good-
natured, steady-going Patrick McCormick.

One Friday afternoon, a short time ago, it was
his turn to take a half day off. He had finished
his work and started homeward in a happy mood ;
for he had •promised his children to take them for a
pleasant stroll in the park. He was scarcely half a
block from the engine house when he heard the
sound of an alarm. He paused to listen, and the
next moment an engine dashed out. As it rushed
down the street, one of the men saw McCormick
and called out, —

" You've missed it, Pat!"

Patrick made no answer, but his mind was full of
confusion. He had his own ideas about a fireman's

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PATRICK McCORMICK'S HOLIDAY 45

duty. In his twenty years of service he had never
failed to be on duty at the right time.

" Think of me walking in the park while all the
boys are fighting that fire! It's not Pat McCor-
mick that'll do such a thing," he said to himself.

By this time the engine was halfway down the
street, and there was no use trying to overtake it.
Yet he had made up his mind to be at the fire, no
matter where it was. An express wagon was going
that way, and he leaped into it.

" Quick, man ! " he cried. " Follow that engine.
I must see what kind of fire it is."

The driver obeyed. The fire was soon reached.
Flames were already bursting from the roof. Lives
were in danger. There was need for quick and
earnest work.

Patrick jumped from the express wagon. He
took his place among the firemen and was ready
for instant duty. What was the half holiday to him
when such work as this was to be done?

The fire burned fiercely but was at last brought
under control. The building was ruined, the walls
were crumbling and ready to fall. There was a
dangerous point past which it was necessary to

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46 HUMBLE HEROES

carry the nozzle of the hose. Just beyond it the
flames were still raging. Women and children
were there, hemmed in by fire and smoke.

The other man at the hose hesitated. He was
faint from the heat, and his heart misgave him.

" rU take it ! " cried McCormick, and he rushed
forward, pulling the heavy hose after him.

Suddenly there was a cry of alarm. From the
tottering wall a great quantity of loosened bricks
and mortar came crashing down. Before Patrick
could escape he was caught beneath the falling
mass and his life was crushed out.

As soon as it was possible to do so, the firemen
began to search for his body. They found it be-
neath a great heap of ruins, the breath quite gone
from it, but his face unscarred and still bearing that
quiet look which spoke the unselfishness of his
heart.

"And to think that this was his holiday !" sai^'
the chief.

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LITTLE BOY BLUE AND GOLYER'S BEN

Had it not been for John Hay, who first told us
this story, Golyer's Ben would probably have been
forgotten long ago. Ben's true name was known
only to himself, and his history was a secret which
no one could guess. He was called Ben because
the word was easy to pronounce, and Golyer's Ben
because he worked for Mr. Golyer.

He was a rough man, as most stage drivers were
in those early days in the far West. He was mo-
rose and unsocial, and most people were afraid of
him. It was not known that he had a single friend
in the world.

The route over which he drove the Golyer stage
was a dangerous one. The roads were steep and
rough, the settlements were few and far between.
Bands of unfriendly Indians were often in the neigh-
borhood, and highway robbers had more than once
planned to waylay the stage in some narrow pass or
at some lonely point on the mountains. It required

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48 HUMBLE HEROES

a brave man to face all these perils, and everybody
knew that Golyer's Ben was not afraid of any-
thing.

One day there was a little boy in the stage. His
father and mother were dead, and he was in the
charge of an old nurse who was carrying him to the
home of a relative beyond the mountains. The lad
made so much noise with a little tin trumpet, which
he wished to blow all the time, that the passengers
nicknamed him " Little Boy Blue."

Little Boy Blue was tired with the long journey.
He blew his trumpet till he could blow no longer.
Then he laid his head in his nurse's lap and took a
long nap. When he awoke he blew his trumpet
again and became very restless. He did not like to
stay cooped up in the stage. He wished to get out
and walk. He wished to gather wild flowers and
chase butterflies. He wished for everything that
he could not have.

Then he saw Golyer's Ben sitting on the high
seat at the front of the stage, and swinging his long
whip over the four toiling horses.

" I want to sit outside with the driver," he whim-
pered. Then he began to cry, and this annoyed

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LITTLE BOY BLUE AND GOLYER'S BEN 49

the passengers even more than the tin trumpet
had done.

" I want to ride with the driver ; I want to ride
with the driver," he repeated.

The nurse tried to soothe him. "The driver
doesn't want vou," she said. " You would be in his
way, and he would throw you out into the first
gully. Only see how cross he looks."

The child would not be silenced. " I want to
ride with the driver ! " he screamed. " I want to
ride with the driver ! "

At the top of a long hill Ben pulled up his team
and looked around into the stage.

" What's the matter with that kid ? " he growled.

" He is crying to ride with you," was the
answer.

" Then why don't you let him ? What's the use
of making him miserable about such a little thing
as that? Just chuck him right up here."

So the little fellow was handed out, much to the
satisfaction of the passengers as well as to his own
joy. Ben placed him by his side on the driver's
box, and buckled a strap to his belt so that he could
not fait off. Then the whip cracked, the four horses

GOLDEN DEEDS — 4

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so HUMBLE HEROES

strained at their traces, and away went the stage,
rattling swiftly along the rough and winding
road.

Who was happier that afternoon than Little Boy
Blue, perched in his high, cozy place by the side of
the driver? He looked up into Ben's rough face
and then down at the fleeting horses. His weari-
ness was forgotten; his ill temper gave way to
sweetness and joy. He clapped his hands and
shouted. He blew his tin trumpet and shouted
again. And, all the while, Ben kept his eyes on the
road and his hands on the reins, and spoke not a
word.

Not long before sunset a narrow pass at the foot
of a steep hill was reached. Once beyond this pass
and it was only a short mile to the way station,
which was at the end of Ben's route. The passen-
gers were all rejoicing at the thought of being so
near to a safe and quiet resting place, for they
would go no farther that day.

Suddenly they were startled by the most dreadful
yelling that ever fell upon travelers' ears. A band
of Apache Indians leaped out from among the rocks
and underbrush. A volley of rifle shots rent the

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LITTLE BOY BLUE AND GOLYER'S BEN 51

air ; the bullets pattered like hail upon the roof of
the stage. The women passengers screamed and
some fainted. The horses sprang forward and fled,
dragging the coach with perilous swiftness through
the narrow pass.

At the sound of the first yell, Golyer's Ben threw
himself over to the left side of the driver's box so
that his body completely covered that of the little
boy. As the rifles cracked he bent forward and
gave the frightened horses the rein.

Oh, it was a' fearful race, a wild race with death,
over that last mile of the day's journey! Shouts,
screams, curses, the whistling of bullets, the rat-
tling of the heavy stage, the furious galloping
of the horses, clouds of smoke and dust — and, fol-
lowing in swift pursuit, the bloodthirsty, pitiless
foe; imagine, if you can, the terror of those few
dreadful moments.

The way station was reached at last — a little
fortified house on the edge of the wilderness.
Here were help and safety. The horses galloped
into ' the courtyard and stopped suddenly. The
passengers leaped from the stage. Thank God!
they were all there and unhurt.

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LITTLE BOY BLUE AND GOLYER'S BEN 53

They lifted Little Boy Blue down from his lofty
perch. He was as sound as a dollar, and his first
words were to inquire for his tin trumpet.

They lifted Golyer's Ben down, too. He was
gasping for breath. Three bullet holes in his
side, and as many trickling streams of blood, told
the story. The life was fast going out of his
rough and weather-beaten body. They carried
him tenderly into the house and laid him down
on the floor.

Then there came into his old gray face a smile
such as no one had ever seen there since he was
an innocent boy looking into his mother's eyes.

" I reckon I saved the little chap, anyhow," he
whispered.

The light faded. The room grew silent. With
the smile still upon his face, Ben's rough and
troubled life was ended. And little Boy Blue
stood Aveeping beside him.

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THE RED SKIRT

Eldridge Hinkle and his sister Mary were
the children of a farmer in New York state.
One day in July they took their baskets and
went out to pick blackberries.

" Let's go along the railroad, Ellie," said Mary.
'^ There is a big patch of briers just the other
side of the cut."

So they walked along the railroad to the "cut"
and then worked their way into and around the
thicket of briers. It was a great year for black-
berries, and their baskets were soon full of ripe,
juicy fruit.

"Come, Mary," said Eldridge, "we have gath-
ered enough. Let's go home."

They came out of the thicket and reached the
railroad at some distance above the point where
they had left it. They had walked but a few
steps along the tracks when Eldridge suddenly
stopped.

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THE RED SKIRT 55

" Oh, Mary, look at that rail ! " he cried.

Mary looked. She saw that there was some-
thing wrong with the track. One of the rails
seemed to have been lifted out of place and it
lacked several inches of meeting the one next
beyond it.

"What's the matter with it, Ellie?" asked the
little girl.

" Why, don't you see ? That rail is out of place.
Somebody has pried it loose from the ties and
lifted it over to this side. Maybe it was careless
workmen; maybe it was robbers."

"Oh— h!"

" If a train should come along, it would run off
the track and everybody would be killed."

** Oh, dear," sighed Mary ; " and it's nearly time
for the up-train from Poughkeepsie now. What
can we do ? "

" I'm sure I don't know," said Eldridge.

He took hold of the loosened rail to try to
lift it back to its place ; but it was so heavy he
could not move it. He looked first one way
then the other; but he could not think what tg
dp,

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56 HUMBLE HEROES

" There it comes now ! " cried Mary, and both
of them distinctly heard the " toot — toot, toot " of
the train at the crossing half a mile away.

" If I only had a red flag, I could stop it," said
Eldridge.

" Here, then," said Mary, quickly. " Take my
red skirt," and in the twinkling of an eye she
had loosened it from her slender waist, stepped
out of it, and handed it to her brother.

The train was coming swiftly toward them.
Mary quickly dodged behind some bushes and
hid herself. Eldridge stood bravely on the track
and waved the red skirt. The train, being a
light one, was easily checked. It stopped with
a thud just as the engine touched the firm end
of the misplaced rail.

"God bless you, my boy I" cried the engineer,
leaping from his cab.

But Eldridge was already behind the bushes
where Mary had concealed herself.

"Quick, Mary, put on your dress," he whis
pered. " Don't let them see you that way."

When the conductor came up, the children
were nowhere to be found. They had taken a

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THE RED SKIRT

roundabout path through the woods pasture and
were hurrying homeward.

I have never heard that the owners of that
railroad offered a reward to Eldridge and Mary.
But the remembrance of the simple but noble
act, whereby lives were saved and much suffer-
ing and loss prevented, will cheer them as long
as they live and bless them far more than any
gift of money.

As I write this, I am reminded of a similar inci-
dent which occurred in Georgia only a few days
ago. Here is the newspaper account of it : —

BOY SAVES lOO PASSENGERS

BIRMINGHAM, Ala., Feb. 14. — Madison Jones, 12 years old, dis-
covered that a portion of a 600-foot trestle had been burned near Sparks,
Ga., on the Southern Railway, twenty miles from Birmingham, to-day.
He left his wagon in the road, and, taking off his red sweater, flagged
an approaching passenger train from Birmingham. The train came to
a halt, and its hundred passengers upon discovering the situation made
up a purse for the boy.

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THE BOOTBLACK FROM ANI^ STREET

Several years ago near the corner of Park
Row and Beekman Street, New York, there stood
a large frame building. It was four or five stories
in height. On the ground floor there were several
stores ; the upper floors were occupied by offices.

Like all the old-fashioned buildings of that
time, it contained but one stairway, and there was
no fire escape. Elevators had not yet come into
use. The only way, thereforej' of passing to or
from the upper rooms was by means of the rickety
wooden stairs. No such building would now be
permitted to exist in the city.

One cold day in January the end came to that
old structure. A fire broke out, nobody knew
exactly where. The stairway was soon filled with
smoke and flame. The people in the offices
above were cut off — there seemed to be no way
for them to escape. Some were burned to death.
Some were smothered by the smoke. A few were
rescued from the windows by means of ladders.

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THE BOOTBLACK FROM ANN STREET 59

The Fil-e Department was not then equipped
;^s it is now. There were no ladders long enough
to reach to the topmost floor ; and yet there were
three men on that floor looking out at a window
and calling for help. What could be done to
save them? Was there no way of getting them
down from their perilous position? If they re-
mained where they were, the flames would soon
reach and destroy them. If they leaped to the pave-
ment below, ^they would surely be crushed to death.

While the firemen were vainly throwing water
on the flames, and everybody was wondering
what should be done, a little bootblack rushed
into the crowd. He saw the men, with hopeless,
beseeching faces, standing at the window. He
saw,^ too, what no other person had seen, the
only way of saving them.

" Hey there ! give me that jimmy ! " he cried,
and he snatched a wrench from the hands of a
mechanic who was standing by. He rushed to a
telegraph pole that stood directly across the street
from the burning building. In a moment he was
" shinning it " up the pole, with the heavy wrench
stuck in his belt.

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6o BUMBLE HEROES

"What's he going to do up there?" inquired
the bystanders.

Then they noticed for the first time that a
wire rope — a stay rope, as it was called — ex-
tended from the top of the pole to the roof of
the building at a point just above the window
where the men were standing. If the rope could
be cut from the pole, it would fall right across
the window, and the men could slide down it to
the ground.

Not a moment was to be lost. The fire was
already beginning to take hold of the woodwork
beneath the window. The smoke was rolling up in
heavy clouds. The wind was blowing a gale. Would
theiittle fellow ever get to the top of the pole ?

Small though he was, he was agile and strong,
and he went up rapidly. When he reached the
first crosspiece, the crowd below him gave a great
cheer. In another moment he was on the upper
crosspiece, his wrench was in his hands, he was
hard at work twisting the wire rope from its
fastening. The crowd cheered again.

Oh, how well that rope was fastened, and how
long it took to loosen it! But at last it fell

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THE BOOTBLACK FROM ANN STREET 6i

It fell just as the boy expected it to fall, and
hung straight down in front of the window. The
men saw it. They seized it, and one after another
slid quickly down to the ground. A few minutes
later the whole of the upper floor of the building
fell in with a fearful crash.

The little hero who had saved three lives by
his quick wit came leisurely down the telegraph
pole, returned the wrench to its owner, and again
mingled with the crowd. He did not expect to
be rewarded. He never thought of thanks. He
had only done his duty.

"Where is the boy who cut that wire } " inquired
a gentleman who had seen the brave deed.

" Yes, where is he } " inquired others, seeming
now to remember that he deserved some reward.
"Who is he?"

" Oh, it's Charlie Wright, the little bootblack
from Ann Street," said one who knew him.

An agent of the American Humane Society
soon afterward found him busy at work in his
accustomed place. " Well, Charlie," he said, " you
did a brave and noble deed, and our society wishes
to thank you for it by giving you a medal."

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62 HUMBLE HEROES

The story of his exploit was told in London.
The English Humane Society wished also to thank
him, and it sent him a gold medal inscribed with
these words : Presented to Charles Wright,

FOR saving three LIVES.

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THE RACE WITH THE FLOOD

It was a bright spring morning in May, 1864.
There had been much rain in Massachusetts. The
ground was soaked with moisture. The streams
were full to the brink. But overhead the sky was
clear, and the sun shone warm and bright upon the
glad earth. The trees were new-clad in their bright
spring vesture, the orchards were white with bloom.
It was the happiest time of the year.

In the Hampshire hills that morning nearly
everybody was out of doors. The softness of the
air, the beauty of the landscape, the music of nature,
called to young and old to come out and enjoy life
at its fullest The children were loitering on their
way to school. The men were in the fields getting
ready for the spring planting. The women were
busy in their dooryards or in their little flower
gardens, here training a budding vine or lifting up
a fallen branch, there dropping a seed or transplant-
ing some favorite shrub.

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64 HUMBLE HEROES

In the Williamsburg valley, life had never seemed
sweeter than on that quiet spring morning. But
suddenly a nameless thrill passed through the air.
The children paused in the middle of the road.
The women looked up and listened. The men
stopped short in their work and glanced inquiringly
first at the river and then at the green hills above
them.

"What was that?" each asked the other.

Some thought it was a passing gust of wind
among the trees. Some said a rock had been
suddenly loosened from its place on the hillside.
Others declared that it was only the mountain
brooks rushing down, with more than their usual
volume, to meet the roaring river.

" The river is wider than I ever saw it before,"
said the miller, standing in his door; "and it
seems to be growing wider every minute."

Then a shouting was heard far up the road,
and the sound of galloping hoofs. The river
roared louder and louder, and each little brook
seemed to be a torrent. Every heart was filled
with a feeling of terror. Nearer and nearer came
the sound of the galloping horse, and far away,

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THE RACE WITH THE FLOOD 65

above the roar of the streams, you might have
heard the shrieking of women and the wild shout-
ing of men.

And now down the narrow road the horse
and his rider comes. The horseman waves his
arms wildly and shouts as he rides.

" It is Collins Graves," say the wondering
women. Everybody in the valley knows him,,
plain young farmer as he is; but nobody ever
saw him ride as now.

His voice is hoarse with shouting. He points
backward, and then upward to the hills. He draws
no rein, but urges his panting steed right onward
while he shouts, —

"The dam has burst! To the hills! To the
hills for your lives!"

He is gone as swiftly as he came, canying the
warning to the farms and villages below. The
roar of the great flood is now distinctly heard.
With shrieks and shouts, men, women, and children
hasten to . climb the hills ; nor do they reach
them a moment too soon.

A mighty wave comes sweeping down the valley
like some roaring monster. It carries everything

GOLDEN DEEDS — 5

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(A HUMBLE HEROES

before it. The mill, the bridge, the village,
houses, barns, cattle, all are ingulfed and swept
away. But, thanks to Collins Graves, the heroic
horseman, the children are all safe, high up on the
hills, and safe also are the women and the men.
Safe, too, is the hero himself, as he checks his steed
on high ground at the foot of the valley below
which the flood can do no harm.

" Thank God ! the brave man's life is spared 1
From Williamsburg town he nobly dared
To race with the flood and take the road
In front of the terrible swath it mowed.
For miles it thundered and crashed behind,
But he looked ahead with a steadfast mind ;
' They must be warned 1 ' was all he said,
As away on his terrible ride he sped.

" When heroes are called for, bring the crown
To this Yankee rider ; send him down
On the stream of time with the Curtius old.
His deed as the Roman's was brave and bold,
And the tale can as noble a thrill awake,
For he offered his life for the people's sake." ^

1 Poetry by John Boyle O'Reilly.

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HEROIC MADELON

On the St. Lawrence Riyer, about twenty
miles from Montreal, there is a pleasant French
village called Vercheres. You will see it as you
sail down the river. You will think it very
pretty with its small, old-fashioned houses nestling
among the trees, its old French windmill, and the
white spire of its little church towering above its
quiet street and blooming gardens.

Two hundred and twenty years ago there was
no village there. A short distance from the
river's bank, however, there was a log fort with
palisades around it. The palisades were made of
the trunks of trees set upright in the ground
and so close together that nothing could pass
between. They formed, in fact, a wooden wall a
foot in thickness and ten or twelve feet high.
It was the kind of wall which the early settlers
built to protect themselves from the Indians.

In front of the fort, and joined to it by a

covered way, was a strong blockhouse built also

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68 HUMBLE HEROES

of logs. There the guns were kept, and the
powder and balls.

The commander of this fort, and indeed the
owner of it and of all the lands around it, was
a French gentlernan whose name was M. de
Vercheres. He had come to this place, in the
heart of the wild Canadian woods, to found a
new home for himself and his family. Here he
lived during the greater part of each year with
his wife and his daughter Madelon, aged four-
teen years, and his two little sons, Louis and
Alexander. There were also in the household
several servants; and two soldiers' had been
brought from Quebec to man the fort.

One day, in early autumn, M. de Vercheres
was called to Quebec on business. His wife
was visiting friends in Montreal. The young
girl Madelon was left at home with her little
brothers and the servants.

"Madelon," said her father, "I leave everything
in your care. Keep the fort well while I am
gone."

" You may trust me, father," said the child.
" But what if the Iroquois should come ? "

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HEROIC MADELON 69

" Nonsense, Madelon. The Iroquois will not
dare to show themselves this side of Montreal
Still it will be well for you to be watchful."

" And watchful I will be, father. Good-by till
your return,"

The boat pushed out into the stream, and
Madelon was left sole mistress of the lonely fort
in the midst of the savage wilderness.

A week, two weeks, three weeks, passed by,
and all went as happily as when the master
was at home. The days were growing shorter,
the nights were chilly with now and then a
white frost, the leaves were falling from the trees.
The men were all busy getting ready for winter,
— hauling in the hay, cutting wood, and putting
things in order against the coming of the deep
snows. Scarcely a thought was given to the
Iroquois, although it was known that they were on
the warpath.

One day Madelon, as was her habit, went
down to the landing place by the river. It was
not more than a hundred yards from the gate
of the fort. A hired man whose name was
Laviolette had just come to shore with a string

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JO HUMBLE HEROES

of fish. All the rest of the men, except the
soldiers and a grandfather of eighty, were at
work in a field behind the fort.

As Madelon was admiring the fish the sharp
crack of guns was heard in the field.

" The Iroquois ! " she cried.

" Yes, yes ! Run, Mademoiselle," shouted Lavio-
lette.

She was not a moment too quick. As she ran
she saw a number of painted warriors hurrying to
get between her and the fort. But she was as fleet-
footed as a deer and had the start of them all. The
Indians shot at her. The bullets whizzed close by
her ears. How long that hundred yards seemed!

" To arms ! to arms ! " she screamed to those in
the fort, hoping that the soldiers would come out
and help.

But it was of no use. The two fellows were so
badly frightened that they had run and hidden
themselves in the blockhouse.

Two women met Madelon at the gate, crying,
'*Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?
They've killed all the men, and we are lost!"

" Go back into the fort, you sillies," said Madelon,

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'She was as fleet-footed as a deer."

[71 ]

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72 HUMBLE HEROES

angrily and out of breath. She pushed them back
with her hands. Then she shut the heavy gate and
bolted it.

All was confusion inside. The women and
children were running hither and thither and
screaming with all their might. The old grand-
father crouched trembling in a corner. All seemed
to have lost their senses.

"Here, Alexander! Here, Louis! Follow me,"
cried Madelon. On one side of the fort several
of the palisades had been blown down by a wind.
There were gaps in the wall through which an
enemy could shoot, even if he could not enter.

" Come, every one of you, and help close up these
gaps," said Madelon.

With her own hands she helped to raise the
heavy logs to their places. She told the old man
and the boys how to make them firm. " Be quick
and do your work well," she said. Laviolette soon
joined her, and the weak places were quickly
mended.

The women were still screaming and weeping
and running wildly about. Madelon stopped to
quiet them.

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HEROIC MADELON 73

" Hush your noise this moment, or we shall all
be lost," she said. " Will your crying and moaning
do any good? Hush, I command you."

She spoke so firmly that every one obeyed. She
ordered each of the women to some place of duty.
One was to care for the children in the kitchen, one
was to watch from this corner of the fort, one was
to stand guard at that. .

Having thus put matters to rights in the main
building she ran to the blockhouse. There she
found Pierre and Jean, the two soldiers. Pierre
was hiding behind some barrels in a corner. Jean
was holding a lighted match in his hand.

" What are you going to do with that match ? "
asked Madelon.

" Light the powder and blow us all up," answered
Jean, trembling from head to foot.

"You miserable coward! Get out of here this
instant." She spoke so firmly that the wretched
fellow obeyed at once.

Madelon threw off her bonnet. She put a man's
hat on her head. She took a gun in her hands.
She called her brothers to the blockhouse.

" Here, Louis ! Here, Alexander ! " she said.

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74 HUMBLE HEROES

" You are but children ten and twelve years of age,
but you can be brave. Let us fight to the death.
Remember what our father has taught you, that a
gentleman is born to shed his blood in the service
of God and the king."

With that the two lads seized some guns and
began to fire from the loopholes.

The Indians had gathered at some distance from
the gate, and were afraid to come within closer
range of the rifles. The firing was so sharp that
they withdrew still farther away.

The two soldiers, grown ashamed of their cow-
ardice, came back and began also to shoot from the
loopholes.

There was a single small cannon in the block-
house. Madelon ordered it to be fired.

" But we cannot bring it in range of the Indians,"
said Pierre.

" Fire it in any case," she said. " It will make
them more afraid of us. It will also be a warning
to any of our friends who may be within hearing
distance."

About the middle of the afternoon a canoe was
seen coming toward the landing place.

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HEROIC MA DEL ON 75

" It IS Fontaine, the settler whose hut is a mile
below us," said little Louis.

" Yes," said Madelon, " and I see his wife and
children with him. They are coming to the fort to
find safety from the Iroquois."

" But they will never get here," said Laviolette.
" The moment they touch the landing, the savages
will be upon them."

" We must save them," said Madelon. " I myself
will go out and meet them."

It was no use to dissuade the girl. She was
the commander in that fort, and everybody knew
it. She thought not of her own safety but of the
welfare of others.

She ordered Laviolette to open the gate and
stand by it until she returned. Then she walked
boldly out in full view of the savages. They sup-
posed that it was a trick to draw them nearer to the
fort, where they would be within range of the guns.
They were afraid, therefore, to make any movement
toward her.

She went fearlessly down to the landing just as
Fontaine's canoe was coming in. The family were
safely brought to shore. In a few words, Madelon

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y6 HUMBLE HEROES

told them of their danger. She made them march
in good order before her, showing no signs of fear.
The Indians looked on and kept their distance.
They might easily have captured or killed the whole
party, biit they were afraid of falling into some kind
of trap.

Night came on and with it a storm of hail and
snow. The wind blew fiercely. It was just such
a night as the savages would wish for their work
of destruction and slaughter.

But Madelon was undismayed. She called her
garrison before her. There were six of them.

" God has saved us from our enemies to-day," she
said; " but we must take care not to fall into their
hands to-night. As for me, I am not afraid."

Then she sent each one to his post. She ordered
Fontaine and the two soldiers to keep the block-
house. " Take the women and children there, for
that is the safest place. No matter what may hap-
pen to me, don't surrender. The savages cannot
get to you ill the blockhouse."

Then with Laviolette, the old grandfather, and
her little brothers, she undertook the defense of the
rest of the fort. Laviolette guarded the gate, while

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HEROIC MADELON Jj

each of the others stood sentinel at some other
allotted post.

All night long, through the snow and the hail
and the wind, the cry of "All's well!" rang out
from each corner of the fort and was answered
by " All's well ! " from the blockhouse. The Indians
heard and thought that the place was full of soldiers.
They held a council, and decided that it would be
unwise to try to surprise a place that was so well
guarded.

It was some time after midnight when the watcher
at the gate called softly to Madelon, " Mademoiselle,
I hear something outside."

She went and peered through a hole in the wall.
In the darkness she saw what she felt sure were
cattle huddling close up to the gate while the snow
was beating down upon them.

" I think they are our cows," she said, " or at least
•such of them as the Iroquois have not stolen. Poor
things, they are needing shelter this fearful night."

" Let us open the gate and call them in," said
Laviolette.

" God forbid," said Madelon. " The savages are
good at tricks. Who knows that they are not

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78 HUMBLE HEROES

among these cattle, wrapped up in skins and
ready to rush into the fort as soon as the gate is
opened ? "

For some time everything was quiet. Then it
was decided to open the gate a little and let the
cattle slip in, one at a time. They entered very
quietly, while Louis and Alexander stood on each
side with their guns cocked and ready for any
event.

At last the long night was ended. Morning
came, and everybody felt braver and stronger. But
all day long the watch was kept up in fort and
blockhouse; and all day long brave Madelon
went hither and thither, commanding, encourag-
ing, directing. Who could be afraid in the pres-
ence of her cheerful and smiling face? There
was not one of her little company who would not
have died for her.

For forty-eight hours she neither ate nor slept.
For a whole week the savages lurked within sight
of the fort. Courage and watchfulness were nec-
essary every hour.

At last help came at night. A young lieutenant
with forty soldiers landed silently and went cau-

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HEROIC MAD EL ON 79

tiously toward the fort, fearing that it was in
the hands of the Indians. One of the sentinels
heard them.

"Who goes there?" he cried.

Madelon was sitting at a table, asleep with her
gun across her arms. The words aroused her.

" Mademoiselle," said the sentinel, " I heard a
voice at the landing."

Then Madelon herself, in louder tones, demanded,
" Who goes there ? "

" We are Frenchmen," was the answer, " and we
bring you help."

Madelon hastened to the gate. When she saw
the lieutenant at the head of his company, she said,
"Monsieur, I surrender my arms to you."

The lieutenant answered, " Mademoiselle, they
are already in good hands."

" Better than you think," said the brave child.

The men entered the fort and looked around.
Everything was in its place* The sentinels were
at their posts.

" Monsieur," said Madelon, " these watchers have
been on guard every hour for a week. Is it not
time to relieve them?"

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY

Betty Zane was a girl just out of school when
she went with her parents to live in the Ohio
country. Her father was a restless, daring man,
fond of the woods and afraid of no danger. The
new home which he had chosen for his family was
at the place where the city of Wheeling has since
grown up. It was near the bank of the Ohio River
and in the heart of the great western wilderness.

Going by way of Pittsburg, the Zanes floated
down the river on a rude flatboat. Some of their
old neighbors were with them, intent like them-
selves, to find a new home in the wild, unsettled
West All were full of courage and hope, for all
felt as though they were entering a strange new
world where life was to be very different from what
it had been before.

Betty Zane's eyes were full of wonder when

the company landed. The only building that she

saw was a square fort with high palisades of logs

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY 8l

on every side of it. It stood in the midst of a
clearing, a little way from the river. It was en-
tered by a gate on the east side, and at each of its
four corners there was a strong blockhouse with
loopholes for the guns. Inside of the inclosure
there were small cabins for the women and chil-
dren, a storehouse, a well, stables for the horses,
and sheds for the cattle.

"Well, how do you like it, my dear?" asked
Mr. Zane.

"I think it is very odd," said Betty, "but I
shall like it better and better every day."

And so she did. Life at Fort Henry, as the
place was called, was no play day. Everybody
was busy. The men were at work outside, en-
larging the clearing, chopping and burning logs,
planting corn and beans, planning for the com-
fort of their families. Some of them went hunt-
ing, to provide meat for the fort; but game was
so plentiful that they did not need to go far.
Inside the fort, the women and girls were doing
a thousand things, cooking and washing, sewing
and mending, spinning and weaving. It was not
a place in which to feel lonesome.

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82 HUMBLE HEROES

Yet as to the fort itself, no place could be
more lonely. On every side of the clearing the
thick woods lay. North, south, east, west, for
miles and miles, there seemed to be nothing else.
Under the trees the startled deer ran swiftly, the
squirrels played among the branches, and at night
Betty could hear the wolves howling in the thickets.
Now and then some Indians would stroll that way
to see what the white men were doing and to smoke
the pipe of peace with them.

Soon other families came to Fort Henry, and
half a dozen cabins were built in the clearing for
them to live in. Indeed, quite a little village
sprang up, with a street leading through it
straight from the gate of the fort.

" If the Indians ever take the warpath," were
the orders, " then every person must hasten inside."

Just then the Revolutionary War began. The
battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill were fought.
The news of these battles was carried quickly
even to the wild Ohio country on the other side
of the mountains.

General Hamilton, who was then the lieutenant
governor of Canada, was charged with the task of

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY 83

persuading the Indians to help the British. It was
easy for him to do this. The red men did not
like the Americans to come into their hunting
grounds and build forts and make clearings. They
were therefore quite ready to join the British and
make war upon them. And so, band after band
of painted savages were sent skulking through the
woods to attack and destroy the settlements along
the Ohio.

" I will pay a good price for the scalp of every
settler that you bring me," said Hamilton; and
this made the savages all the more eager to burn
and kill.

It was early in autumn. The woods were just
beginning to put on their wonderful colorings of
purple and gold. The air was calm and mild.
The sun shone gently every day through a soft
mist, giving to the landscape a dreamy, peaceful
appearance, such as prevails in the West during
what is known as Indian summer.

One morning a messenger came in great haste
to Fort Henry. He was from the settlements in
Kentucky, and he brought important news.

" Simon Girty, with five hundred painted In-

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84 HUMBLE HEROES

dians, is coming up the river," he said. "The
savages are traveling fast; they may be here at
any hour."

Instantly all was alarm and bustle. The set-
tlers in the village hurried into the fort, taking
with them everything they could carry. The
cattle also were driven in. The palisade was
strengthened. The blockhouses were overhauled.
Everything was made ready for a siege.

A little while later, a sentinel on the west side
of the fort gave the alarm. Betty Zane, peeping
out through a narrow crack in the wall, could
see the savages approaching. They came, skulking
silently through the woods, dodging behind trees,
hiding beneath the underbrush. Soon the forest
seemed to be alive with them. The men in the
blockhouses began to fire upon them; but they
still kept silent, creeping around to the shelter
of the cabins in the village.

Then Girty, the leader of the band, came boldly
forward, waving a dirty white flag above his head.
Bett)7 Zane saw him standing at the window of
one of the cabins and calling out that he wished to
say something. He was a white man. His hair

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY 85

was long, his face was covered with a rough beard,
and he wore an old red coat that had once be-
longed to a British officer.

All the settlers knew Simon Girty. He had
lived with the Indians since childhood. He hated
all white people, and especially the settlers in the
Ohio country. He was more cruel, more treacher-
ous, more savage, than any Indian.

As soon as the men in the fort saw the white
flag, they stopped firing. Then Girty began to read
a paper, which he said was from General Hamilton.

" If you will lay down your arms and surrender.*'
said the paper, "no harm shall come to you. You
may go back in safety to your old homes on the
other side of the mountains. But if you will not do
this, your fort will be attacked and destroyed, and
every man, woman, and child will be put to
death."

" Now, what do you mean to do ? " asked Girty.
" If you are wise, you will surrender at once."

Colonel Shepherd, the commander of the fort,
answered him.

" We all know you, Girty," he said. " Never will
we surrender to such a rascal. Never shall you get

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86 HUMBLE HEROES

into this fort so long as there is one person alive
to defend it."

The people in the fort shouted, " That's true,
Colonel Shepherd ! " and clapped their hands in
approval. A young man in one of the blockhouses
fired at Girty, and caused him to dodge quickly
back into the cabin.

Then the fighting began in earnest. The yells
of the Indians were dreadful to hear. From behind
bushes, rocks, and trees, they fired into the fort
The men in the blockhouses fired back, but only
when some careless redskin showed himself within
range of their deadly bullets. Many of the Indians
were killed, while not a single white man was
touched.

After an hour's fighting of this kind, the firing
stopped and the savages ran, pellmell, back into
the woods.

"The cowards have given up the fight," cried
one of the young men.

" Not at all," said Colonel Shepherd, who knew
them better. " They have not gone far, and they'll
be back when we least expect them. This is one
of their tricks.**

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY 87

Then he went from one blockhouse to another to
tell the men what to do.

" How much powder have we ? " he asked*

They looked and were dismayed to find that there
was but very little in the fort. The hunters had been
careless and had used more than belonged to them.

Then one remembered that he had a little keg
of powder in his cabin in the village. " It has
never been opened,"' he said, " and if we only had
it now, it would supply all our needs."

" But why did you leave the powder in your
cabin ? Why didn't you bring it into the fort } "
asked the colonel.

" May it please you, sir," was the answer, " I was
in such haste that I forgot everything."

" Then," said the colonel, " it is for you to go to
the cabin and bring the powder to the fort now."

" It is certain death. Colonel," answered the man.

All knew that he spoke the truth. Although not
an Indian was in sight, yet it was felt that every
place was closely watched. The cabin where the
powder was hidden was sixty yards from the gate of
the fort. Before a man could reach it a dozen In-
dian guns would be leveled at him.

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88 HUMBLE HEROES

Colonel Shepherd understood this well, but he
knew that the lives of all in the fort depended upon
getting that powder.

" Who will volunteer to go after it ? " he asked.

The men looked at one another and grew pale,
but no one answered.

Then the colonel explained that as soon as the
little powder which was then in the blockhouses was
used up, they would all be at the mercy of the sav-
ages. But if they could secure the keg that had
been left in the cabin, they might still win the day.

" Will no one volunteer ? " he asked again.

Three or four boys and young men answered,
"Yes. We will go."

" But I cannot spare so many of you," said the
colonel. " There are not more than twenty of us,
all told, and to lose three or four would be almost
as bad as to lose the powder. Only one can go.
Who will it be?"

" I ! " " I ! " " I! " cried each of the young men.

" I will go," said one.

"No, you won't I spoke first, and I will go,"
said another.

Thus they began to dispute; and the time was

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THE HEROINE OF FORT HENRY 89

passing. Even now, a few Indians could be seen
skulking back among the trees. Soon it would be
too late to make the attempt.

Then it was that Betty Zane came forward.

" Let me go," she said. " I am of no use here in
the fort. I cannot fight, but I can bring the pow-
der."

" There is great danger," said Colonel Shepherd.
" It would be at the risk of your life."

"Yes," said the young men; "and it is for us
to protect the women and children from harm.
We cannot allow you to go. What if you should
be killed?"

" That is the very question," said Betty. " If I
should be killed it would be but a small loss, for
I am useless here. But if one of you should be
killed, the fort would lose a protector. Let me go !
I must go."

Betty's father then came forward. " I guess you'd
better let her go. Colonel," he said.

It was no time to parley. Every moment was
precious. Colonel Shepherd saw that the child was
determined. " Open the gate, boys," he said.

The gate was opened a very little. Betty pushed

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90 HUMBLE HEROES

through it and ran like a frightened deer toward
the cabin. Some Indians who were sneaking about
the village saw her. They stopped and looked at
her curiously, but did not shoot. Perhaps they
were so surprised at the sight that they did not
think of their guns. Perhaps they, too, were short
of powder and did not wish to waste it on a mere
girl. Perhaps they thought it a trick to draw them
into some kind of trap or ambush.

At any rate, Betty reached the cabin and found
the precious keg of powder. It was not large.
She wrapped her apron around it, and holding it
close with both arms, started back to the fort.

As she ran, some other Indians saw her. They
leveled their guns and fired. The bullets whistled
about her ears, but she ran all the faster. Before
the Indians could reload, she was inside of the fort
and the gate was closed. All the men and boys
shouted as they saw her safe, with the keg of pow-
der in her arms.

" My brave girl ! " cried her father. He had not
time to say more, for there was a great yelling out-
side and the Indians were seen rushing in a body
upon the fort

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THE HEROINE OF PORT HENRY 91

The men in the blockhouses were calm and cool.
Every shot that they fired counted. The ground
was soon strewn with dead and wounded savages.
Their companions were obliged to retreat again
into the woods.

All that day and all night, the Indians made
attack after attack upon the fort. But Colonel
Shepherd and his handful of men were always on
the alert and could not be taken by surprise. Early
the next morning a band of about forty hunters and
settlers, all well armed, came cautiously toward the
fort from the east. They kept out of sight of the
Indians, but made signals to the people in the fort.

Colonel Shepherd saw the signals and answered
them. Then the hunters and settlers made a swift
rush toward the fort. The gate was opened just
in the nick of time, and the forty men hastened in.
All this was done so quickly and silently that the
Indians were taken entirely by surprise. They
were discouraged.

" We can never take this fort," they said to Girty.
" We shall try no longer, for we should lose every-
thing and gain nothing. We are going back to our
own wigwams and our own hunting grounds."

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92 HUMBLE HEROES

Simon Girty knew that it was useless to argue
with them. So he caused the village to be burned,
and then returned into the woods with his savage
host. Before another day all were many miles on
their way toward their homes in the Northwest.

When Colonel Shepherd was asked, " Who
saved the day at Fort Henry ? " his answer was,
"Betty Zane. God bless her!"

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THOMAS HOVENDEN— ARTIST

Perhaps somewhere you have seen the paint-
ing, or if not the painting an engraved copy of it,
entitled "A Breton Interior of 1793." It is the
picture of a humble room in a humble cottage in
northern France in the time of the French Revolu-
tion. The family within are all busily occupied,
preparing for defense against some unseen foe.
Some are molding bullets, some are sharpening
old swords, some are furbishing other neglected
weapons of war. It is a strong picture, eloquent
with expression, and you will wish to study it long.
Look at the engraved copy closely, and perhaps you
can make out the artist's name in the corner —
Thomas Hovenden.

There are other famous pictures, also, that were
painted by Hovenden. One bear? the name of
Tennyson's lovely heroine, "Elaine," and one is
called " The Two Lilies." But perhaps the most
beautiful and touching of all is the picture entitled,

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[94]

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THOMAS JIG VEND EN— ARTIST 95

'* Breaking the Home Ties." This painting was
much admired at the World's Columbian Exposi-
tion in 1893, and it has often been copied. Look at
the small engraved copy on the opposite page, and
read the story which it tells.

Hovenden was an American artist, although his
birthplace was in Ireland. He had studied under
the best masters, both in this country and in Paris.
After years of effort and of faithful endeavor, fame
and fortune seemed to be within his grasp ; a life's
ambition was almost realized.

One afternoon in August, 1895, he left his
country home near Norristown, intending to ride
by trolley to the railroad station where he would
take the evening train for Philadelphia. At the
outskirts of the town the passengers were required
to alight from the first trolley car, cross the railroad
tracks, and take another car on the opposite side.

Thomas Hovenden was one of the last to step
out of the trolley car, and as he did so he heard
the roar of a fast-freight train coming with great
speed down the tracks in front of him. At the
same time, to his great horror, he saw a little girl,
who had been on the trolley, run forward to cross

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96 HUMBLE HEROES

the railroad. The child had not noticed the ap-
proaching train, ' and was intent only upon reaching
the second trolley car on the farther side of the
tracks.

The engineer whistled. The child looked up
and saw the great engine bearing down upon her.
She was paralyzed with fear. She stood motion-
less between the tracks.

Then it was that Thomas Hovenden, fifty-five
years of age, did the heroic deed of his life. Quicker
than thought, he leaped forward and seized the
child. Another second for another leap, and both
of them would have been in safety. But, alas, the
monster engine was too quick for him. It struck
him as he was almost across. Artist and child
were hurled far to the side of the road. They
lay there in the dust, side by side, and quite motion-
less.

Gentle hands hastened to lift them up. But
Thomas Hovenden, artist, hero, was dead. The
child for whom he had given his life was uncon-
scious. They lifted her from the ground ; they car-
ried her lovingly to a neighboring house ; but before
the sun went down that day, she, too, had ceased to

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THOMAS HOVENDEN — ARTIST 97

breathe. Shall we believe that Thomas Hovenden's
golden deed was a failure ? Far nobler is it to die
in the attempt to save another's life than to live as
a selfish coward afraid to perform one's duty to
humanity. This last act of Thomas Hovenden
proved him to be a hero of the noblest type; it
crowned with the highest honor his already success-
ful life.

GOLDEN DEEDS — 7

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"ARE YOU THERE, MY LAD?"

Here is an old and oft-told story; but it is well
worthy of repetition.

. John Maynard was a pilot on board of one of the
largest steamers on the Great Lakes. Time after
time he had guided the monster vessel safely from
port to port. He knew all the landmarks and
lights; he knew the best channels; even in the
most terrific storms he never lost his reckoning.

Whether the water was rough or smooth, whether
the air was calm, or whether the wind blew fiercely,
he was always at his post. The lives of hundreds
of men, women, and children depended upon his
watchfulness and care. And yet, how few of the
passengers in the comfortable cabin, or in their
cozy berths at night, ever gave one thought to
the pilot in his lonely watch-tower above them!

The steamer was making its one hundred and

twentieth trip between two busy ports on Lake

Erie. It was midsummer, and the weather was

fair. The passengers had had a delightful day,

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''ARE YOU THERE, MY LAD?" 99

and no one dreamed of disaster. At midnight all
on board were asleep, save the faithful pilot, the
engineer, and those of the crew who were on duty.

" I think we shall have rain before morning," said
John Maynard. For, indeed, the sky was no longer
clear. Dark clouds were rolling up from the west,
and only now and then could a star be seen peeping
through the gathering mists. The nearest shore
was miles away, and not a light was in sight.
There was no sound save the dull thud of the great
engine and the regular splashing of the paddle
wheels in the water.

But what was that ? John Maynard, with his
hand on the wheel, listened intently. It was the cry
of " Fire ! " far down in the hold. In a moment
there was a great stir on board. The captain
rushed out upon the deck, giving hurried orders
to his men. The passengers, awakened from their
sleep, ran hither and thither in wild confusion.

Then dense clouds of smoke poured forth, wrap-
ping the vessel as in a cloak of darkness. From
the portholes below, red tongues of flame began to
shoot out. Woriien and children, and even strong
men, were overcome with terror. John Maynard

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100 HUMBLE HEROES

stood at the wheel, steering the vessel steadily
shoreward.

" Pilot, how far are we from land ? "

" It is a matter of three miles, perhaps," was the
answer.

The forward part of the vessel had been the
first to take fire. The flames were slowly eating
their way backward. Twice the roof of the pilot
house had been ablaze, and twice the crew had
saved it by turning the hose upon it. But now
the hose had burst, the flames had increased, and
there seemed to be no hope.

" Are you there, my lad ? " called the captain.

" Ay, ay, sir ! " was the quick answer.

" Can you hold on till we reach land } "

"I'll try, sir!"

Through perilous waters the blazing ship sped
swiftly toward the land. And John Maynard, amid
smoke and flames, still held the wheel.

The captain had ordered the lifeboats to be
launched. But they had lain so long in the dry
midsummer air that their seams had opened and
they would not float. And now the terror of the
passengers was greater than before. Some fainted

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''ARE YOU THERE, MY LADf'' loi

upon the deck, some tried to cast themselves
overboard; all were hopeless.

" Listen ! " cried the captain. "In two minutes
we shall reach land. If our pilot can hold out,
the boat will be beached and all will be saved."

But now the pilot house appeared to be wrapped in
a sheet of flame.

" Are you there, my lad ? " again called the captain.

"Ay, ay, sir!" feebly answered the pilot.

" Can you hold out one minute longer ? "

" With — God's — help," was the gasping reply.

The boat was at the beach. Her bottom was
grazing the sand. Soon the passengers and crew
were safe on dry land.

" Where is the pilot ? " cried one. •

The pilot house was all ablaze. The pilot's
hand was still upon the wheel ; but the life had
fled from his heroic body.

When the roll of the world's heroes is called,
shall any name of warrior or of king stand higher
than that of John Maynard.'*

"Are you there, my lad?"

"Ay, ay, sir!"

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A HERO OF VALLEY FORGE

It was winter at Valley Forge. Indeed, it was
that famous and dreadful winter when Washington
and his little army of patriots were encamped there.
Half-clad, half-fed, chilled by the raw, cold winds, is
it not a wonder that these brave men did not lose
all hope and disperse to their homes ? Every one
of them performed a golden deed when he kept up
his courage and stuck to his post and thus did his
part towards keeping the American army together.
But the hero of whom I shall tell you was not a
soldier; he did not even believe it right to fight

One day a Tory, who was well known in the
neighborhood, was captured and brought into the
camp. His name was Michael Wittman, and he
was accused of having carried aid and information
to the British in Philadelphia. He was taken to
West Chester and there tried by court-martial. It
was proved that he was a very dangerous man and
that he had more than once attempted to do great

102

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A HERO OF VALLEY FORGE 103

harm to the American army. He was pronounced
guilty of being a spy and sentenced to be hanged.

On the evening of the day before that set for
the execution, a strange old man appeared in Valley
Forge. He was a small man with long, snow-white
hair falling over his shoulders. His face, although
full of kindliness, was sad-looking and thoughtful.
His eyes, which were bright and sharp, were upon
the ground and lifted only when he was speaking.

Many of the soldiers seemed to know him, for
they greeted him kindly as he passed.

" Who is that old fellow ? " asked a young ser-
geant from Virginia.

"Why, he is one of our best friends," was the
answer. " He lives at the Dunker settlement, over
near Lancaster, and many are the wounded soldiers
that he has nursed and brought to life. He has a
hospital there of his own, and if I wefe hurt or sick
I shouldn't want any better place to go. He doesn't
believe in fighting, but he surely believes in help-
ing the fighters."

" Yes," said another soldier, " but the worst of it
is that he would just as lieve nurse a sick Britisher
as a sick American. All are the same to him."

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104 HUMBLE HEROES

Then, one after another, the soldiers began to
give the old man's history.

His name was Peter Miller.

He was the finest scholar in the thirteen colo-
nies. He had translated the Declaration of Inde-
pendence into seven European languages, and the
Continental Congress had sent copies of these
translations into every country where they could
be read.

He had charge of a printing press in the Dunker
settlement.

He had translated into English a wonderful Ger-
man book and had printed it upon his own press.
The book was a huge thing, so large and heavy
that a man would not wish to carry more than one
volume at a time. And what do you think it was
about ?

It was entitled " The Martyrs' Mirror," and was
mostly about the cruelties of war. Its object was
to show that all fightings are wrong and unneces-
sary.

To translate it and print it was the work of three
years, and it is said that during all that time Peter
Miller never slept more than four hours a night.

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A HERO OF VALLEY FORGE 105

" I think I have seen that wonderful book," said
a soldier. " I think I rammed a part of it down my
musket when I loaded it yesterday."

"That is very likely," said another. "About a
week ago, six of us drove over to the settlement
in two wagons, and brought back all the " Martyrs'
Mirrors" we could find. The paper makes fine
wads for the muskets, and you know that we have
almost nothing else that can be used."

In the meanwhile, Peter Miller, with bowed
head, had made his way to the door of Wash-
ington's headquarters.

His name was announced.

"Peter Miller?" said Washington. "Certainly.
Show him in, at once."

The old man went in, scarcely raising his eyes
to meet the welcoming and inquiring look of the
general.

" General Washington, I have come to ask a
great favor of you," he said, in his usual kindly
tones.

" I shall be glad ' to grant you almost any-
thing," said Washington; "for we surely are

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I06 HUMBLE HEROES

indebted to you for many favors. Tell me what
it is."

" I hear," said Peter, "that Michael Wittman has
been found guilty of treason and that he is to be
hanged at Turk's Head to-morrow. I have come
to ask you to pardon him."

Washington started back, and a cloud came
over his face. " That is impossible," he said.
" Wittman is a bad man. He has done all in his
power to betray us. He has even offered to
join the British and aid them in destroying us.
In these times we dare not be lenient with
traitors; and for that reason, I am sorry that I
cannot pardon your friend."

" Friend ! " cried Peter. " Why, he is no friend
of mine. He is my bitterest enemy. He has
persecuted me for years. He has even beaten
me and spit in my face, knowing full well that I
would not strike back. Michael Wittman is no
friend of mine."

Washington was puzzled. "And still you wish
me to pardon him ? " he asked.

" I do," answered Peter. ^* I ask it of you as a
great personal favor."

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A HERO OF VALLEY FORGE 107

" Tell me," said Washington, with hesitating
voice, "why is it that you thus ask the pardon
of your worst enerny?"

" I ask it because Jesus did as much for me,"
was the old man's brief answer.

Washington turned away and went into another
room. Soon he returned with a paper on which
was written the pardon of Michael Wittman.

" My dear friend," he said, as he placed it in
the old man's hands, " I thank you for this example
of Christian charity."

It was a matter of fifteen miles, by the shortest
road, from Valley Forge to West Chester which
was then known as Turk's Head; and the road
at that time was almost impassable. The even-
ing was already far gone, and Michael Wittman
was to be hanged at sunrise in the morning.
How was the pardon to reach him in time to
save his life?

The matter was so important that Peter would
not intrust its management to any other person.
With the pardon safely folded in his pocket he
set out on foot for Turk's Head. All night
long, through snow and slush and along unbeaten

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io8 HUMBLE HEROES

paths, he toiled. In the darkness he lost his way,
and wandered far from the road. When day broke,
he was not yet at the end of his journey.

Old and feeble though he was, he began to run.
From the top of a little hill a welcome sight ap-
peared. The straggling village of Turk's Head was
just before him, and the sun had not yet risen. He
saw a commotion in the street ; men were hunying
toward the village green; a body of soldiers was
already there, drawn up in order beneath a tree.

Summoning all his strength, Peter ran on and
soon entered the village. Close to the tree stood
Michael Wittman with his hands tied behind
him. A strong rope was dangling from one of the
branches.

In another minute the sun would begin to peep
over the snow-clad hills. An officer had already
given orders to place the rope around the traitor's
neck. Peter Miller, still running, shouted with all
his might.

The officer heard and paused. . The crowd
looked around and wondered. Panting and out of
breath, Peter came up, waving the paper in his
hand.

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A HERO OF VALLEY FORGE 109

" A pardon ! a pardon ! " he cried. "A pardon
from General Washington!"

The officer took the paper and read it aloud.

" Unbind the prisoner and let him go," he com-
manded.

Peter Miller had saved the life of his enemy,
perhaps of his only enemy. Michael Wittman,
with his head bowed upon his breast, went forth a
free man and a changed man. The power of Chris-
tian charity had rescued him from a shameful death,
and the cause of patriotism need have no further
fears of being harmed by him.

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THE WILDERNESS PREACHER

'* A LETTER for me, did you say ? "

The speaker was a slender, unassuming man, far
past middle age. He was dressed in the homespun
garb then common in Kentucky, and the threadbare
^Ibows of his coat showed that his present suit had
done long and faithful duty. His hair, which was
almost white, was combed straight down over his
ears. His blue eyes were full of kindliness. His
voice was soft and pleasant to hear.

" A letter ior me, did you say } "

" Well, I reckon it's for you," answered the back-
woodsman, who had brought it. " They say that
your name's on the back of it. That's as much as I
know about it."

The old man took the letter and read the super-
scription :

" To David Elkiuy Kentucky "

" Yes, that is my name," he said ; and he opened
the missive. It was merely a sheet of paper, folded,
with the ends tucked under. It had neither en-

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THE WILDERNESS PREACHER in

velope nor stamp, for envelopes and stamps had not
then come into use. It contained no postmark, for
postoffices were few in the western country, and it
had been carried by private hands and the hands
of friends. The place from which it had come was
not more than a hundred and fifty miles distant,
and yet it had traveled by a roundabout way, and
had been on the road for weeks.

David Elkin smoothed the crumpled sheet with
his hands and held it up to the light to make
out the signature. The writing was in a plain,
delicate hand, and had been done with a quill
pen and pale home-made ink. We do not know
the exact words which that letter contained. But
David Elkin's eyes filled with tears as he read
them. Let us suppose that they were these: —

" Dear Friend, — I take my pen to let you know
that mother is dead. She was buried yesterday.
But oh, Mr. Elkin, there is no preacher anywhere
in this country, and we could not have any re-
ligious services. Our sorrow is too great to bear.
Won't you please come soon and preach her
funeral sermon ? I do not know where you are,

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112 HUMBLE HEROES

but I hope this will reach you somewhere in

Kentucky, and that you will come.

**Your young friend,

"Abraham L.
"Little Pigeon Creek, Indiana, 1818."

David Elkin read the letter over and over.
His hand trembled. His lips quivered.

" Where did you get this letter, Isaac ? " he asked.

"Well," answered the backwoodsman, "I was
up in Harrodsburg last week and a man asked
me, ' Is there anybody down your way by the
name of David Elkin?' I stopped to think a
minute. Then I told him that there was a
preacher going through this section that folks
called Brother Elkin, and that perhaps his name
was David, but I wasn't sure. Then he said
that he had a letter for David Elkin, and
wouldn't I carry it to you ? He said he guessed
it had been all over Kentucky, carried from
hand to hand, and passed from this place to
that. I told him I'd try to find you and give it
to you ; and that's what brought me here."

" And I thank you very much, " said David.
" It is from the son of some dear friends of

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THE WILDERNESS PREACHER 113

mine who used to live in the Knob-Creek
settlement. They moved to Indiana about two
years ago, and this letter tells me that the
mother is dead;" and he dovered his face and
sobbed aloud.

The next day the good preacher began to
make ready for a journey to Indiana. " Little
Abe wants me to preach her funeral sermon," he
said, " and if God gives me strength, I will do it."

He borrowed an old horse. In his saddlebags
he packed a shirt, a loaf of bread, a hymn book,
and a Bible. Then he mounted, and rode slowly
away through the wilderness.

The streams were swollen with recent rains,
and, as there were no bridges, he was often
obliged to leave the road and ride far around to
some safe fording place. Sometimes he stopped
at a settler's cabin for a bit of food or a night's
lodging. Everybody was glad to entertain him, for
in that early day hospitality to strangers was the
first rule of life.

The roads grew worse. In some places there
was not so much as a bridle path through the
forest. Night sometimes fell while the lone

GOLDEN DEEDS — 8

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114 HUMBLE HEROES

traveler was far from any dwelling. Then he
tethered his horse to a tree, built a fire of
sticks and brush, and sat down by it to wait
for the morning. At such times the howling
of wolves and the screeching of panthers echoed
around him ; stealthy steps were heard among
the dead leaves; bright, savage eyes gleamed
in the darkness. What could an unarmed man
do in the midst of so many perils? David
Elkin trusted in God.

At length he reached the Ohio River and was
rowed across to the Indiana shore. Another day's
journey brought him to Pigeon Creek and the home
of the Lincolns. Imagine the joy of that sorrow-
ing family, and, especially, of the nine-year-old lad
whose letter had been the means of bringing him.

In sparsely settled districts news travels much
faster than you would suppose. It seems almost
to fly by a kind of wireless telegraphy from one
lonely cabin to another. In a very brief time the
settlers for miles around knew that a preacher had
arrived among them, and that on Sunday morning
he would preach a funeral sermon at the grave of
Nancy Hanks Lincoln.

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*^^

if' •t,^^^H

Ifeii^

"SS* J .-

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rifc- lii-wi

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[xis]

Waiting for the Morning.

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n6 HUMBLE HEROES

Sunday morning came, and with it the greatest
gathering of neighbors that had ever been known
in that section. Some came so far that they had to
start from home at daybreak. They came afoot, on
horseback, and in wagons. All sorts and conditions
of backwoods settlers were there. Everybody was
eager to hear what the preacher would say.

At a little before noon the services began.
David Elkin, his kind face clouded with grief,
stood at the head of the grave. Mr. Lincoln and
his two children sat quite near him. The visitors
and friends were grouped around them. The
preacher opened his hymn book — there was not
another at the meeting. He turned to the hymn he
had selected, and read it, two lines at a time. At
the end of each reading, the women and girls joined
him in singing the lines he had pronounced. To
the rude settlers, unaccustomed to better things,
this singing was most delightful, impressive, and
inspiring.

A brief prayer followed the hymn, and then
David Elkin began his sermon. We do not know
what his text was. We do not know what were
the words he spoke. But we may well surmise the

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THE WILDERNESS PREACHER 117

substance of his discourse : the nobility, the gentle-
ness, the loving self-sacrifice of the poor woman in
whose honor they had met together. To Abraham
Lincoln it was doubtless fraught with inspiration,
urging him then and thereafter to a noble, manly
life. " My angel mother ! " he afterward cried, " all
that I am and all that I shall ever be, I owe to her."

The sermon over, there was another prayer, an-
other hymn was sung, and then the benediction was
pronounced. The settlers tarried under the trees, to
greet the minister and one another, to talk about
the sermon, to exchange the gossip of the different
neighborhoods. When at last they separated and
each took his homeward way, there were but few
who had not been made wiser and gentler and more
thoughtful than they had ever been before.

David Elkin did not remain long with the Lin-
colns. A day or two later he saddled his horse,
mounted, and turned his face toward Kentucky.

" Good-by, Abraham, and may God bless you."

He shook the hand that was offered him, rode
down the woodland path into the great forest —
and we hear no word of him again.

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A PATRIOTIC QUAKERESS

In the winter of 1777-78 the city of Philadel-
phia was occupied by a British army. Red-coated
soldiers paraded the streets and guarded the en-
trances to the town. Fine officers in gorgeous
uniforms took possession of the best houses and
lived there in luxury without asking leave of the
owners.

Outside of the city, at White Marsh and at
Valley Forge, the American troops were encamped.
Half-clothed, half-fed, shivering and suffering by
their camp fires, they yet held out bravely against
their foes so comfortably housed and so bounti-
fully fed in the city. Many people in Philadel-
phia would have been glad to send aid to their
patriot friends, but their movements were too
closely guarded and they were forced much against
their will to lend assistance to their enemies.

Among these people there was a Quaker

named William Darrah, a school-teacher, quiet

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A PATRIOTIC QUAKERESS 119

in manners and harmless in thought and deed.
He lived with his wife Lydia in a long, low build-
ing on South Second Street, which served both
as a residence and as a schoolhouse. One of
the larger rooms at the back of the building had
been taken possession of by the British and was
used by General Howe and his officers as a kind
of secret meeting place. Here they held their
councils of war, and here they decided whatever
questions might arise relative to the movements
of the soldiers in the city. As no word of com-
plaint or unfriendliness had ever been heard from
the Darrah family, it was supposed that they had
only the kindliest feelings toward the intruders.

One evening in December the British adjutant
general, dressed in his red coat with brass buttons
and lace ruffles, knocked at the door of the
Darrahs. The knock was answered by Lydia
herself, a plain little Quakeress in the plain but
pretty garb peculiar to her people.

" Is Mrs. Darrah at home } " asked the adjutant.

"Not Mrs, Darrah, but Lydia Darrah," was
the answer. " I am she."

"Oh, I see," said the adjutant. "Well, I ^m

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120 HUMBLE HEROES

come to command you to have the council
chamber well warmed and lighted this evening.
Several officer^ are going to meet there, and
everything must be in readiness by seven o'clock."

" It shall be as thee desires," answered Lydia.

"And mark you," continued the officer, "we
want none of your family around listening to
what we may say. I shall expect you to have
your supper early and to send everybody to bed
before the officers arrive."

"Is not seven o'clock quite an early hour for
retiring ? " asked Lydia.

"Early or not early," was the answer, "those
are my commands and you are expected to obey*
When the meeting has ended, I will knock at
your chamber door to give you notice. You can
then arise and extinguish the fire and the candles
and lock up the house."

" It shall be as thee desires," said Lydia.

She began at once to get the council chamber
ready. While she was sweeping and dusting, her
mind was full of many thoughts. Was she a
slave that she must obey the commands of this
red-coated officer? What right had the British

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A PATRIOTIC QUAKERESS 121

to feast upon the best in the land, while her
friends with General Washington were suffering
the pangs of hunger? She did not believe in
fighting ; but since fighting was really being done,
she couldn't help but wish that the Americans
would conquer. As to giving any active aid to
the British, she resolved that, let come what would,
she never would do such a thing.

Evening came.

The council chamber was ready. The Darrah
family supped early, and the children and serv-
ants were in bed before seven o'clock. All was
quiet in the house when the British officers ar-
rived. Lydia opened the door and showed them
in. Then she retired to her own room and blew
out the candle. She did not undress, but merely
took off her slippers and lay down upon a couch.

Now, Lydia's room was quite near to the coun-
cil chamber — so near, indeed, that she could hear
the loud voices of the officers. She could not
sleep. She felt in her mind that some great
danger was threatening her American friends.
She thought that she heard the name of Wash-
ington spoken in the council chamber.

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122 HUMBLE HEROES

The longer she lay and listened, the more un-
easy she became. At last she arose and crept
silently through the hall to the very door of the
council chamber. There she stood and listened.

At first she heard only the confusion of many
voices. It seemed as though all the redcoats
were trying to talk at the same time. After a
little there was a loud rapping on the table, and
some one called for order. The room became
quiet in a moment. Then one of the officers
announced that he had an important order from
General Howe which he would proceed to read.

Lydia Darrah was now all attention. She
heard the orders of General Howe that the
British troops must all be under arms and in
readiness for marching at dusk on the evening
of the second day thereafter. They were to
march in such and such a manner and over
such and such roads in order to surround and
surprise the army of Washington, which was
then encamped at White Marsh.

Lydia waited to hear no more. She stole quickly
back to her room and lay down upon the couch
as before. She felt that a very grave danger was

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A PATRIOTIC QUAKERESS 123

threatening her friends. How could she help
them ?

An hour passed, two hours, and then she heard
the officers going home. The adjutant stopped
at her door and knocked. She pretended to be
asleep. A second time he knocked, and a third.
Then, with a yawn as though just awaking, Lydia
answered. She pushed her feet into her slippers
and opened the door just as the last officer was
passing from the hall.

Lydia did not sleep a wink that night. The
great secret she had learned was too heavy for her.
She felt that she must help the Americans — and
yet how? She thought of several plans. But
some of them were impossible, and all were at-
tended with danger. At last morning dawned,
and with the sunlight a happy thought came into
her mind.

" I can do it. I will do it," she said to herself.

After breakfast she said to her husband, " Wil-
liam, the flour is gone, and I intend to ride to the
mill for more."

** Lydia," he answered, " thee certainly won't ride
to Frankford on such a day as this. It's a good

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1^4* MUMBLE HEROES

twelve-mile ride there and back, and the wind is
very raw. Can't thee send the maid ? "

'' No, William, the wind is as raw for the maid as
for me. I've made up my mind to go, myself."

Now William had learned from observation that
when Lydia made up her mind to do something,
things were apt to go pretty much as she said. So
he raised no further objection, but having finished
his breakfast, went quietly to his schoolroom to
give the day's lessons to his young scholars.

Toward noon, Lydia mounted the family horse,
and with her empty flour sack before her, was soon
cantering briskly along Second Street and across to
the Frankford road. She had often been on this
sort of errand before, and her appearance caused no
surprise. She had a permit from General Howe to
pass the British lines, and she rode without hindrance
out in the open country which then lay between
Philadelphia and the little village of Frankford.

When she reached the mill there was no flour
ready, and she must wait for it to be ground. This
was just as she had expected and wished. She
left her bag to be filled, and then took a walk out
toward the American camp at White Marsh. She

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"Til tell thee what brings me here/

[X2S]

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126 HUMBLE HEROES

had not gone far when she met Colonel Craig, who
was acting as a scout for Washington. He was on
horseback and had a small company of soldiers
with him.

The colonel knew her. " Lydia Darrah," he
said> " what strange necessity can bring you here on
such a day as this ? "

" Friend Craig," she answered, " thee knows that
I have a son in George Washington's army, and
my heart is sick to see him." Then she added
in a lower tone, " If thee'U alight and walk a
little way with me, FU tell thee what brings me
here."

The colonel dismounted, and led his horse while
he walked by Lydia's side back toward the village.
Lydia told him all that she had learned, and begged
that he would use the knowledge in such a way
as not to mention her name. For if the British
officers should learn that she had betrayed their
secret, it would, no doubt, go very hard with her
and her family.

She then left the colonel and hastened across the
fields to Frankford. When she arrived at the mill
it was the middle of the afternoon, and her flour was

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A PATRIOTIC QUAKERESS 127

ready. With the bag slung across the saddle before
her she started for home, and just at sunset she
safely reached her own door.

As she alighted from her horse, she thought to
herself, " What a strange errand for a woman Friend
like me to be out upon ! " But she kept her own
secret, and not even her husband suspected the real
reason of her visit to the mill.

The next evening, the British troops, true to their
programme, marched out of the city silently in
fighting trim. What was their surprise to find
Washington's army drawn up in line of battle and
ready to receive them! Throughout the night
they maneuvered in the darkness, trying to sur-
round the Americans or strike them in an un-
protected quarter. But all in vain ; they could find
no place in which safely to make an attack.

For two days they threatened, and tried to draw
Washington away from his intrenchments. On
the third day, they marched back to Philadelphia,
angry, weary, and disheartened.

"Somebody has betrayed us," said the British
oflScers. " Who can it be ? "

But they never suspected the plain little Quaker

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128 HUMBLE HEROES

woman with the sweet, sober face and quiet ways.
The adjutant general, however, paid her a visit.

" You remember the meeting which we had in
the council chamber a few evenings ago?" he
asked.

" Certainly I remember it," she answered.

" Were any of your family up while the meeting
was in progress .f^ "

" None of them. They retired soon after supper.
At seven o'clock all were in bed but myself."

" I cannot understand it," said the adjutant.
" Some one must have overheard and betrayed
us ; but who can it have been } I know that you
were asleep, for I knocked three times at your door
before I could waken you. I don't know what to
think."

But Lydia Darrah kept her own secret and told
it to no one until after the war was ended. In her
quiet way she had saved the American army from
disaster and defeat. Perhaps the fate of the na-
tion was determined by that ride to the Frank-
ford mill.

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EZEKIEL AND DANIEL

Two boys once lived on a hilly little farm in
New Hampshire. They were brothers. The name
of the elder was Ezekiel, and that of the younger
was Daniel.

The father of these boys was anxious that both
should be well educated, for he believed that educa-
tion was necessary to fit any person for success in
life. But he was a poor man and had not the
means to send both to good schools.

Ezekiel had many good qualities. He was sturdy
and manly and industrious. He would, no doubt,
succeed well with whatever he should undertake
to do.

But Daniel was not strong. He was a slender
child and very delicate. It was thought that he
would never be able to make his living by hard
work. Yet his mind was wonderfully bright and he
was very quick to learn.

" Boys," said the father, " there is nothing in the

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130 HUMBLE HEROES

world that I wish so much to do as to give you
both a fine education. But I shall never have
enough money to send you to college. You shall
have to stop short of that."

" Then let Daniel be the scholar," said Ezekiel,
"and I will help you on the farm."

Daniel was the pet of the family and a great lover
of books. His brother was always ready to give up
anything that he possessed in order to make him
happy. And now he was ready to give up his
chances of a fair schooling if he could help Daniel
to a better education.

The father thought of the matter in this way:
Would it not be better to give one of the boys a
thorough education, than to limit both to just a
little schooling? And if he could send only one to
college, why should it not be that one which gave
the greatest promise of success }

It was decided, therefore, that Daniel should be
the scholar. And Ezekiel, without a murmur, went
to work with a will to help earn the money to pay
his brother's expenses at college.

Every one in the family was pleased with the
arrangement. Daniel was sent to a preparatory

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EZEKIEL AND DANIEL 131

school, and in due time was admitted to Dartmouth
College. To his father, his mother, his brother, no
sacrifice seemed too great if only they could help
him to gain that education which they felt would
be of so much use to him.

During all this time, however, the one thing
that troubled Daniel was the thought of his brother
toiling at home. He knew that Ezekiel had great
abilities. He knew that he was not fond of farm
work, and that he was anxious to study for a profes-
sion. This brother had given up all his dearest
plans m order that Daniel might be favored; and
Daniel, although very grateful, was pained to think
of it •

Once, when Daniel was at home on a vacation,
he said, " Zeke, this thing is all wrong. Father
has mortgaged the farm for money to pay my ex-
penses at school, and you are making a slave of
yourself to pay off the mortgage. It isn't right for
me to let you do this."

Ezekiel said, " Brother Dan, I am stronger
than you are, and if one of us has to stay on a
farm, of course I am the one."

" But I want you to go to college," answered

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132 HUMBLE HEROES

Daniel. " An education will do you as much
good as me."

" I don't know about that," said Ezekiel.

" Well, I know about it, and I will see father
about it this very day," said Daniel.

He did see him.

" I told my father,^' said Daniel afterward, " that
I was unhappy at my brother's prospects. For
myself, I saw my way to knowledge, respectability,
and self-protection. But as for Ezekiel, all looked
the other way. I said that I would keep school,
and get along as well as I could — that I would
be more than four years in getting through
college, if necessary, provided that he also could
be sent to study."

The matter was referred to Daniel's mother,
and she and his father talked it all over. They
knew that it would take all the property they had
to educate both the boys. They knew that they
would be obliged to do without many comforts,
and that they would have a hard struggle for
a living while the boys were studying. But the
mother said, " I will trust Ezekiel and Daniel."

It was settled, therefore, that the elder brother

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EZEKIEL AND DANIEL 133

also should have a chance to make his mark in
the world.

He was now a grown-up man. He was tall
and strong and ambitious. He entered college
the very year that Daniel graduated.

As for Daniel — well, if it had not been for his
brother's generous self-sacrifice, his history might
have been quite different from what it was. And
Ezekiel Webster's golden deed made him forever a
sharer of Daniel Webster's fame.

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THROUGH SMOKE AND FIRE

Lieutenant Commander Jesse Mimms Roper
was in charge of the gunboat Petrel when it was
in Manila Bay, soon after the close of the Spanish
War. He lost his life while trying to save one of
his sailors from a fire on board of the gunboat.
The story of his heroic self-sacrifice is told by
his second officer in about the following words : —

" I was lying in my bunk at half-past six on a
Sunday morning. Suddenly I heard a call, but
being off duty I paid no attention to it. Then
there was a great scuffling on the deck, and my
boy ran in to tell me that there was a fire some-
where.

" I was responsible for all the powder on board,
and it did not take me long to get to my. place.
On the sick list though I was, I felt that it was
for me to be wherever that fire was. It was be-
low the hatchway leading from the sail room to

the berth deck. As I ran forward, I saw a great

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THROUGH SMOKE AND FIRE 135

cloud of smoke rushing up the hatchway, but
there were no flames in sight

" Commander Roper was already there. He was
clad only in his pajamas. He had been the first
man to go down into the hatch, and was at
once overcome by the smoke. Two seamen had
dragged him up, and he was just recovering when I
reached his side. Several of the crew were at the
hatch, lifting out some of the men who had gone
down with the hose and been overcome.

" Every man that went down was sure of suffoca-
tion, but not one held back. Each man, when his
turn came, ran down and seized the body of the
man who had preceded him. He quickly slung a
bowline under the arms of the suffocated man.
The seamen on deck would pull the body up, and
the man below would seize the hose and fight the
fire as long as he could breathe. Then he, too,
would drop, unconscious, and somebody would have
to go after him.

" I have been in all sorts of dangerous places at
sea, but I never saw anything that tried my nerves
as that did. The men, one after another, keeled
over as they went down into the smoke. Before

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136 HUMBLE HEROES

long we had twenty-two men lying unconscious on
the deck.

" There was one man, Seaman Toner, still miss-
ing. We knew that he was lying somewhere
unconscious in the middle of that black smoke.
He had been in charge of the hose, and had not
returned. As soon as this was known to Comman-
der Roper, he made a rush for the hatch. I held
him back, and he tried to shove me to one side.
At last he turned away for a minute and then
made a rush for the hatch. It was too late for me
to catch him, but I shouted to him to come back.

" * You don't know how things are down there,'
I said. ' There are other men here who are willing
to go, and they are much abler to stand it than
you.'

" * I know exactly how things are down there,'
he said, turning and waving his hand to me. * I
am going down after that seaman.'

" Before he could reach the hatchway, Cadet
Lewis stepped in front of him and said that he
would go after Toner. There was a race to the
hatchway, and both disappeared in the smoke
together. Two jackies followed them.

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THROUGH SMOKE AND FIRE 137

" The rest of us grouped around the opening
without saying a word. We gazed down the iron
ladder a moment, as if helpless. I then gave
orders that no more men should go down there
unless they had bowlines about them. There were
two officers and three men already there.

" In another minute a negro named Girandt
had slipped a bowline around him and was going
down the hatchway. He got hold of the two
men who had gone down with Commander Roper,
and all were pulled up together. After taking a
few breaths of air, the negro went down again
and tied the line around Toner. This time he
himself was unconscious when pulled up.

" I couldn't stand it any longer. There were
twenty-five men lying stretched out on the deck,
and I decided that it was my duty to go to the
succor of the officers. I put a wet handkerchief
in my mouth, slung the bowline around me, and
was let down. I had ordered the electric lights
in the compartment turned on. They flared out
just as I touched the deck, and through the
smoke I could see Commander Roper seated on
a pile of canvas in a corner.

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138 HUMBLE HEROES

" I hauled him out under the hatchway. The
bowline was too short, and I yelled for more.
Just then some one bumped against me and
almost knocked me over. It was a young marine
who had followed me down the ladder. Together
we fastened the bowline around the commander,
and he was drawn up.

" A moment afterward I, too, was overcome, and
I knew nothing more until I found myself lying
on the deck. At a quarter before eight. Com-
mander Roper was dead. Lewis and Toner were
barely alive, but by careful nursing for two or three
hours they were at last able to go about their
duties.

" Few men in the navy were more highly
esteemed than Commander Roper. Few men have
been mourned more sincerely."

Is it not more heroic to die in saving one's
friends than in trying to destroy one's enemies?

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HEROES OF THE STORM

It is a dark night in winter.

You sit at home in your cozy, well-warmed
room and listen to the storm outside. You hear
the wind as it shrieks about the house top and
roars in the trees. You hear the hail pelting
furiously against the windowpanes. You know
that soon the snow will be flying in flurrying gusts
through the air and piling itself up in huge drifts
across the roadway. You know that by morning,
old Zero will come in the arms of the storm giant,
stinging the cheeks and biting the toes and chilling
the very blood of every one he chances to meet.

" I pity those who are out of doors to-night," you
say ; and then you return to the enjoyment of your
warm fire and the pleasant companionships of the
evening.

Do you know that on such nights as this there

are men watching every mile of dangerous shore

along the Atlantic seacoast and along the Great

Lakes ? These men sit by no pleasant fireside ;

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140 HUMBLE HEROES

while on their rounds they have no cozy retreat
from the cutting blast and the drifting snow. They
are on duty, by turns, all night and all day. Even in
clear, pleasant weather, they are patrolling the shore
from half-past four in the afternoon until half-past
seven the next morning. It is their business to aid
the shipwrecked, to save lives. They belong to what
is known as the Life-saving Service of the United
States government.

The stations of the Life-saving Service are at
the most dangerous places all along the coast. At
each station there are usually a captain, or keeper,
and seven men. These men are chosen for their
fitness to do the work that is required of them. All
know the sea. Some have been sailors on the high
seas ; some have spent their lives on coasting ves-
sels ; but the most have been fishermen. They are
quiet, simple-hearted men, courteous and kind.
They have entered the service, knowing its hard-
ships and perils, and every one of them is a hero.

There are always two men from each station
patrolling the shore. One man keeps a lookout
from the lonely watchtower. The eyes of all are
upon the sea.

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HEROES OF THE STORM 141

The two men who do the patrolling start from the
station at the same time. One follows the shore to
the right, the other follows that to the left. Each
travels till he meets a man from the next station,
either above or below. With him he exchanges a
numbered brass check, and then he returns to his
own station. After four hours of this patrol work
the two men are relieved by two others, who con-
tinue it in the same way. Thus, as I have said, the
entire shore is watched throughout every stormy
night and day.

Besides the patrol work, the men have other
duties to perform, and there are stringent rules,
which they must obey. Once every three months
a government inspector visits each station to see
how it is kept and how the men are doing.
Once each w^eek there is a drill in life-saving
tactics, so that in case there should be a wreck
on the shore the men will know exactly what
to do.

At times the surfboat is taken from the sta-
tion ; it is hurried to the shore ; it is launched
amid the breakers; the crew push out and per-
form all the maneuvers they are supposed to

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142 HUMBLE HEROES

perform in actually rescuing the lives of the
shipwrecked.

At times there are drills in shooting the life line
over a supposed wreck. At times the men are
regularly instructed in the methods of bringing
to life those who have been almost drowned or
who have been nearly overcome by exposure to
the cold. Nothing is left undone that is nec-
essary to make the service elhcient in every
respect.

Should a wreck actually occur, then the real
work of the Life Savers is performed. Let us
^suppose that a patrolman, walking along the
shore on this stormy night, descries a vessel
being driven into the breakers. His first act is
to kindle a red-light which he always canies with
him. This red-light burns brilliantly and tells the
crew of the unfortunate vessel that help is at
hand.

The patrolman then hurries back to the station.
Perhaps the men there have also seen his signal,
and are putting things in readiness. The surf-
boat with a wagonload of wreck guns, life lines,
and other apparatus, is hurried down to the beach

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HEROES OF THE STORM 143

at the point nearest to the distressed vessel.
If the sea is not too rough, the surfboat, or in
some cases the larger lifeboat, is launched. The
keeper takes the helm, and the sturdy oarsmen
drive the boat out through the surf.

When the wreck is reached, the women and
children are rescued first, and then the other
passengers. The crew and officers of the wrecked
vessel are taken off last. Everything must be done
in an orderly manner, and those who attempt to
scramble or crowd in ahead of their turn are
severely dealt with by the keeper. No attention
is paid to the saving of any kind of goods until
after every living person has been landed.

It often happens, however, that no boat can
be kept afloat in the furious sea. Then the
wreck guns are brought into use. A strong line
attached to a shot is fired across the vessel. This
line is seized by the people on board. They
pull upon it and draw in a rope that is attached
to it. Both ends of this rope are fastened securely
on shore, and hence the middle of it is drawn
up upon the ship and made fast to a mast or
some other convenient object. To this rope is

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144

HUMBLE HEROES

attached a life car or a breeches buoy, which the
Life Savers operate from the shore by means
of a strong line so arranged as to run either
forward or backward.

When all is ready, the people are brought ashore
— one at a time if by the breeches buoy, but often
six at a time if by the life car. They are taken at
once to the life-saving station, and there they are
cared for until they are able to help themselves.

The wages of the Life Savers are small. They
are forbidden to solicit any pay from those whom
they have benefited. Their duties call them often
into places of great exposure and danger. Their
lives are given to heroic self-denial. Yet they go *
forth daily, cheerfully, to the performance of what-
soever duty may be at hand. There is no record of
any life saver ever shirking a responsibility or dis-
obeying a command. Their energies are devoted
to the rescue of those in peril, and the nature of
their services leads them to forget all selfish in-
terests. The stories that are told of their deeds of
heroiism and self-sacrifice would fill volumes. In
this book I shall relate but one, which I have
chosen because it is fairly typical of many others.

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THE LIFE SAVERS OF LONE HILL

It was midwinter when the schcxDner Louis V.
Place weighed anchor and started on its last voyage
from Baltimore to New York. From the first day
out the weather was uncommonly severe. The
wind was strong, sometimes rising to a gale.
The waves buffeted the little vessel unmercifully.
But the captain, hoping that the morrow would
bring fairer skies and smoother seas, held manfully
on his course.

As the schooner advanced northward the weather
grew colder. A drizzling rain set in, which turned
to sleet as it fell. Soon the sails were stiff as
boards, the ropes were frozen and unmanageable,
the decks were coated with ice, the schooner was
drifting at the mercy of the winds and the waves.

No land was in sight, but the captain supposed
that the vessel was not far off Sandy Hook.
Soundings were made, and it was found that the
sea was not deep. The schooner was being rapidly
carried toward the shore.

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146 HUMBLE HEROES

The captain ordered the anchors to be let go.
But these also were covered with ice, the cables
were frozen stiff ; it was impossible for the crew to
move them. As a last resort the halyards were cut ;
but the sails were so stiff with ice that they held to
their places. The rudder also was unmanageable.
Nothing could check the onward course of the
vessel.

The crew, half-frozen and hopeless after four
days and nights of exposure, held on to whatever
supports were at hand, and gazed helplessly at the
raging sea before them. Then land was seen — a
long, low shore, with lines of furious breakers dash-
ing against it. It was not Sandy Hook, but the
opposite coast of Long Island.

Scarcely had the men had time to realize their
danger before the schooner was in the midst of the
breakers. There was a terrific shock. The vessel
trembled like a leaf, careened to one side, and came
to a sudden stop. The breakers flooded the decks.

The crew, eight men in all, climbed with such
speed as they could into the rigging, where they
held on to the icy ropes, scarcely hoping that any
succor would ever reach them.

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THE LIFE SAVERS OF LONE HILL 147

The schooner was still about four hundred yards
from the shore, wedged fast upon a rock. The
waves swept over her from stem to stern. The surf
was full of broken ice. Huge cakes of ice were
piled upon the beach. Flurries of snow filled the
air and sometimes hid the shore from view. How
hopeless, indeed, was the case of those eight men
clinging for life to the ice-covered rigging of that
doomed vessel !

The Life Savers at Lone Hill station, not far
away, were soon aware of the wreck, and every man
hastened to the shore, eager to lend a helping hand
to the crew. To send a boat out through that icy
surf in the midst of those furious breakers, was
plainly impossible. The only chance was to throw
a line out over the wreck in such a way that the
sailors could grasp it and then be drawn over it to
the shore.

The wreck gun that is used for throwing such
lines was hastily put in readiness. But before it
could be fired, two of the sailors, overcome by their
terrible privations, relaxed their hold upon the rig-
ging and dropped into the merciless sea. The
snow flurries were now so frequent that the wreck

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148 HUMBLE HEROES

could be seen only at rare intervals. The first line
that was thrown fell far away from the mark and
was drawn in without having touched the vessel.

The second shot was better aimed. It carried
the line directly into the rigging and right into the
midst of the clinging sailors. They were so stiff
with the cold, however, that not one of them could
move sufficiently to reach it. A third line and then
a fourth were thrown with the same result. The
poor fellows in the rigging were plainly unable to
help themselves.

The snow fell faster. The mist from the raging
breakers was frozen in mid-air. For three hours
the Life Savers were unable to catch even a glimpse
of the wreck. When at last the snow ceased falling
and the clouds began to scatter, the ice-covered
masts were again seen pointing upward above the
surf. But instead of six men clinging there, there
were now only fouii; the other two had silently
dropped into the sea.

And now night came — a night of storm and
peril and nameless dread. The Life Savers built a
beacon fire on the shore and anxiously watched for
any clearing of the weather or any abatement in the

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ISO HUMBLE HEROES

fury of the waves. The hours passed, oh so slowly,
with only the roaring of the sea and the fearful
dashing of the waves !

The gray dawn at last began to dispel the dark-
ness, and all eyes were turned toward the wreck.
Had any of the sailors lived through that dreadful
night ? Yes, there was one with his arm around the
mizzenmast And there was another in the rigging,
close by him. Both of these moved and were alive.
The bodies of the other two sailors were also there ;
but they were frozen stiff and motionless among the
ropes and cordage. The life had gone out of them
in the night.

The sailor in the rigging seemed to be trying to
cheer his comrade by the mast. Now and then he
would strike him with the end of a rope. Now and
then he would seize him by the shoulders and shake
him. The Life Savers imagined they could hear
him saying: " Don't give up, old fellow ! Help is at
hand. We'll soon be ashore."

But the mizzenmast was plainly giving way.
Every time the waves washed up against it, it
would tremble and lean a little farther over. The
sailor in the rigging noticed this. He looked over

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THE LIFE SAVERS OF LONE HILL 151

to the mainmast and saw that it was a much safer
place. But he would not go there alone. He
seized his comrade's arm and tore it loose from the
ice around the mizzen. Then, partly by coaxing
and partly by force, he caused him to follow him
down to the wave-swept deck and across the peril-
ous way to the mainmast. Creeping, tottering,
groping, the two sailors at last climbed into the
main rigging, and waited there for whatever fate
might be in store for them.

All day long, the Life Savers upon the beach
tried every device to rescue the shipwrecked men.
Just before sunset the ninth line was shot out. It
fell squarely across the wreck, just in front of the
mainmast If this failed, there would be no fur-
ther hope.

The sailor who had shown so much care for his
comrade climbed slowly down through the rigging.
He was so stiffened with the cold that he could
scarcely bend over to pick up the line. He slipped.
He fell. Then he crept carefully, painfully, back
into the rigging. The line was lost.

" The last chance, and it has failed," said the men
on shore ; and some of them burst into tears.

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152 HUMBLE HEROES

Another beacon fire was built, and the men pre-
pared for a second night of watching. But hope
had gone out of their hearts.

It was nearly midnight when they noticed that
the storm had abated. The surf was not so strong;
the breakers were less furious ; the sea was clearer
of ice.

" It's now or never, boys ! " cried the keeper.

All hands together laid hold of the surfboat.
They launched her amid the rushing waves. With
willing hands and strong arms her brave-hearted
crew drove her right out through the boiling, roar-
ing, dashing breakers, and at last brought her
alongside the ice-covered wreck. The two sailors
were taken off, and the boat with all on board was
driven safely to the shore.

After forty hours of heroic effort the Life Savers
of Lone Hill returned to their station. Their toil
had not been in vain, for they carried the two res-
cued sailors with them.

The brave fellow who had done so much to en-
courage and help his shipmate soon recovered and
was able to take care of himself. He gave his name
as William Stevens, and he was but a conimoq

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THE LIFE SAVERS OF LONE HILL 153

sailor. His unselfish heroism in behalf of his com-
panion had doubtless been the means of saving his
own life. Few men have better merited knight-
hood.

His comrade was too far gone to be much bene-
fited by any help that could be given him. He
died a few days later in a hospital, whither his
rescuers had sent him.

As for the Life Savers, the legislature of New
York passed resolutions in praise of their heroism,
and each one received a suitable medal of honor
" Such a service," said the legislature, " belongs to
humanity, and deserves universal admiration."

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PART SECOND
LOVERS OF MANKIND

>S5

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Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase !)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw within the moonlight in his room.

Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold;

And to the presence in the room he said,

*' What writest thou ? " The vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord."

" And is mine one? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low.

But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great wakening light.

And showed the names whom love of God liad blessed ;

And, lo I Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

— Leigh Hunt

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LOVERS OF MANKIND

THE SCHOOL CHILDREN'S FRIEND
I

One morning, about a hundred years ago, a
farmer lad with a basket on his arm was walking to
the village store in Franklin, Massachusetts. He
was probably fourteen years of age, although you
would have guessed him to be older. His face was
pale and bore the saddened look of a child who had
never known what it was to play. His clothing of
home-made stuff was tattered and worn. His whole
appearance told of poverty and hard work.

Some village boys saw him and shouted, " There
goes Horace. Let's have some fun with him."

They pelted him with mud. They threw stones
into his basket.

" Hello, girly ! " said one, " have you washed the
breakfast dishes yet ? "

" How much straw can you plait in a day, Horry .?"
asked another.

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158 LOVERS OF MANKIND

Then they all hooted, " Girl-boy ! girl-boy ! girl-
boy ! Helps the women in the kitchen ! " and they
pranced around him in great glee.

But the lad walked on silently, seeming not to
notice their ill-mannered taunts. At the store he
was greeted kindly by the man behind the counter.

" Some more straw braid to-day, Horace ? "

" Yes, sir," was the answer. " There's not so
much as I hoped to bring, but I shall do better
next week."

The storekeeper took the rolls of plaited straw
from the basket, and soon figured up their value.

" One shilling and sixpence. And what will you
buy to-day t "

" Half of it is mother's," answered Horace, " and
half of it is mine. Mother will come in to-morrow
and get what she needs. For my part, I want the
arithmetic book that I was looking at last week."

•' The price is one shilling," said the storekeeper.

'" I know," said Horace, " and I lack threepence
of having so much. I only want to ask if you will
not lay the book aside for me until next week, when
I shall have more than enough to pay for it."

"You may take the book now," said the man,

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THE SCHOOL CHILDREN'S FRIEND 159

"and I will trust you for the balance till you have
some more braid ready."

The lad thanked him, and tucked the precious
book under his coat. Then taking up his empty
basket, he went out to meet the taunts of the
street boys again.

" That's right, girly ! " they shouted after him.
" Run home now, and wash the breakfast dishes.
Run home and plait some more straw."

"That lad will make his mark in the world,"
said the storekeeper to the group of loafers who
were lounging at the door. , " The boys make
fun of him because he makes straw braids and
helps his mother with her housework. But theyll
be glad enough to do him honor by and by."

"Has he no father?" asked one.

" Ah, no. His father died two years ago, and
the boy has been the mainstay of the family
ever since. And work ! why, he's never known
anything but work. That boy never played a
day in his life. He's at work on the farm
whenever the weather will let him. And then of
evenings and on rainy days he's always plaiting
straw. Why, he plaits more straw than any

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l6o LOVERS OF MANKIND

woman or girl in Franklin. The hat makers say
that his braids are the best of any that I send
them.

"School? No, he never has time to go to
school much. I guess he goes seven or eight
weeks in midwinter, when he can't do anything
on the farm. But they do say that he knows
more than the teacher, young as he is.

" Books ? Well, I should reckon. He's read
everything in the Franklin library, and he has
a few books of his own. They say that he sits
up and reads when everybody else is in bed.
Sometimes he sits up till long after midnight.
And they're so poor up at his house that I
guess they can't afford to buy many candles,
either."

Such was the boyhood of Horace Mann. It
was a boyhood of labor unrelieved by any of the
joys which children commonly know. He never
knew a holiday. Marbles and kites and tops
never came his way, for he had no time to spend
with them. As for playing ball, he was too busy

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THE SCHOOL CHILDREN'S FRIEND i6i

even to think of it. In fact, he never had any
kind of plaything that he could call his own.

As he neared the age of manhood, however, he
contrived to give more time to the study of
books. Through his industry and self-denial his
mother was at length quite well provided for.
Why should he not now indulge himself with a
little of that learning for which he had always
had such hungering and craving?

One day when he was twenty years old, a
school teacher whose name was Barrett surprised
him by saying, —

" Horace, you must go to college ! "

What a strange idea to put into the head
of a young man who had neither money nor
opportunities !

" Why, Mr. Barrett," said Horace, " I don't know
enough to enter college. I have never studied
Latin, and as for Greek I have yet to see the
first book in that language. It is useless to think
of such a thing."

" Not so useless as you suppose," answered Mr.
Barrett. " I have said that you must go to
college and I mean it. I myself will prepare you."

GOLDEN DEEDS — II

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l62 LOVERS OF MANKIND

Horace did not require much persuasion, for
all his ambition pointed that way. He set to
work with a will, and so did Mr. Barrett.
Within six months the young man mastered more
Greek and Latin than most students learn
nowadays in three years. Before he was twenty-
one he passed the examinations and entered the
sophomore class of Brown University.

He had no money. He had no wealthy friends
to help him along. But he was resolved to make
his own way. He earned what he could by doing
any odd job that turned up. For a few weeks in
each year he taught a country school, keeping up
his studies and passing the examinations as they
came. He took care of his own room. He some-
times cooked his own meals. He lived sparingly.

At first, his classmates were disposed to laugh
at him. Yet he was so gentle in his manners,
so brilliant of mind, so studious and earnest,
that he finally won the admiration of all the stu-
dents and the respect of all the professors. No
finer classical scholar ever passed through Brown
University. At the end of three years he gradu-
ated at the head of his class.

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THE SCHOOL CHILDREN'S FRIEND 163

III

Long before Horace Mann left college he had
made up his mind to be a lawyer. At that time
all the brightest young men in the country were
preparing for the profession of law. It was the
profession that would give the freest scope to
the exercise of genius; it was the profession that
offered the surest promise of fame and fortune.

There was a very famous law school at Litch-
field, Connecticut, and thither at the age of twenty-
four went Horace Mann. As a matter of course,
he was not long in pushing to the front. With his
tireless energy and his natural brilliancy of in-
tellect, his progress was but a series of intellectual
triumphs. He soon became known as not only
the best student, but the best lawyer in the
school.

At the age of twenty-six he was admitted to
the state bar of Massachusetts. The road to
honor and distinction was open before him. As
an attorney he had all the practice that he could
manage. He was assured of a steady and in-
creasing income. At thirty years of age he was

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1 64 LOVERS OF MANKIND

chosen a member of the state legislature. He
became known as, next to Daniel Webster, the
best public speaker in Massachusetts. At length
he was elected to Congress to succeed Ex- President
John Quincy Adams in the House of Representa-
tives. Surely, but few men at his age have ever
had brighter prospects before them.

But, notwithstanding his success, Horace Mann
was ill at ease. " I ought to be doing more for
humanity," he said.

The schools of Massachusetts, indeed of the
whole country, were at that time very poorly
managed and very inefficient People felt but
very little interest in education. The public
schools were attended by only a few pupils and
these were of the poorer class. Thousands of
children were growing up in ignorance and vice.

"This is not as it should be," said Horace
Mann; and he began to study the subject with
all his accustomed thoroughness.

" The children must be better cared for," he said.
"The state must provide for the instruction of
all. We must have more schools and better
schools."

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THE SCHOOL CHILDREN'S FRIEND 165

He brought the matter before the legislature.
His arguments were so clear and convincing
that a law was passed providing for the general
improvement of the schools in the state. More
than this, Horace Mann himself was appointed
Secretary of the Board of Education, and it
was made his duty to see that the provisions of
the law were carried out. All his friends were
astonished when he accepted the position.

" It is the work of my life," he said.

He closed his law office. He sold his law
library.

" The bar is no longer my forum," he said. " I
have betaken myself to the larger sphere of
mind and morals."

The salary was small. The honors were few.
The labor was great. Yet cheerfully did Horace
Mann take hold of the work that was assigned
him, and manfully did he carry it forward.

He visited Europe and studied the best systems
of education there. He lost no effort to make
the schools of Massachusetts the best in the
world. "We must have better teachers, better
buildings, better schoolbooks, longer terms of

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l66 LOVERS OF MANKIND

school," he said; and for the procurement of
these he toiled unweariedly.

The result is now to be seen in the high
character and wonderful efficiency of the public
schools all over the country. The good work
which Horace Mann began in Massachusetts soon
had its influence in other states. That good work,
once begun, has never been abandoned or neg-
lected, but it still goes on. All that is best in the
public schools of to-day may be traced to the
influence and work of this man, who was willing
to sacrifice ease, honor, and fame in order to pro-
mote the welfare of the children.

Nowadays there are comparatively few people
who remember the name of Horace Mann, and
fewer still who are acquainted with his history.
But every child in the public schools of the United
States should know that he owes very much of his
own happiness to the energy and generous self-
sacrifice of the boy who braided straw and helped
his mother.

" Be ashamed to die," he once said, " until you
have won some victory for humanity."

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"A KNIGHT WITHOUT REPROACH"

For nearly four hundred years Greece had been
subject to Turkey. The Greeks were oppressed
and enslaved by their cruel conquerors; they
scarcely dared to call their lives their own. At
length, in 182 1, they resolved to endure oppres-
sion no longer. Hopeless as their cause seemed
to be, they took up arms and began a war for inde-
pendence. The Turks were strong and pitiless;
the Greeks were poor and weak, and yet they
fought bravely for their country and their homes.

The war had been going on for two or three
years, when a stranger appeared in Greece who
at once attracted much attention. He was a
young man of twenty-three or twenty-four. He
was very tall and handsome. His long hair was
black, his blue eyes were very large, his face was
beaming with kindliness and courage.

It was soon learned that this stranger was a

young American surgeon and that his name was

Samuel G. Howe. He had come to Gre^c^ Xq

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i68 LOVERS OF MANKIND

give such assistance as he could to those who
were fighting for liberty.

He began work at once, trying to establish
hospitals for the wounded and the sick. He went
from one battlefield to another, doing all in his
power to relieve the suffering and dying soldiers.
Then, when matters seemed to be most desperate,
he shouldered a musket and went forth to share
with the patriot Greeks the dangers and hard-
ships of war.

He soon learned, however, that a stronger foe
than the Turks was threatening the Greeks.
That foe was hunger. The war had required so
many men that there was now no one left to till
the fields. The vineyards had been neglected
and trampled down. The cattle had been driven
off and butchered. Unless help came, the Greeks
would be conquered by starvation.

The young surgeon was not a man to hesitate.
He hurried back to America. In letters to the
newspapers, in public speeches and personal ap-
peals, he made known the sad condition of the
Greeks. Thousands of Americans came forward
with gifts of money and food and clothing. A

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"A KNIGHT WITHOUT REPROACH'' 169

ship was loaded with these generous offerings,
and Dr. Howe sailed with it for Greece.

How the poor people of that unfortunate land
blessed the stranger who brought this much-needed
relief! He gave the food to the famishing, he
placed the money in the hands of those who
would use it the most wisely for the good of all.
The whole nation thanked him.

For a long time after the Greeks had won
their independence they remembered with love
the brave, handsome American who had done so
much to aid them. One story, in particular, they
liked to tell and tell again. It was of a Greek
soldier, whose life the American had saved on
the battlefield, and who always afterward followed
him about like an affectionate dog. The poet,
John Greenleaf Whittier, who knew and loved
Dr. Howe, has repeated this story in the following
verses, in which he also briefly alludes to the hero's
later services in behalf of humanity: —

" Oh, for a knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear I
My Hght glove on his casque of sjteel,
My love-knot on his spear 1

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170 LOVERS OF MANKIND

" Oh, for the white plume floating
Sad Zutphen's field above, —

The lion heart in battle.
The woman's heart in love I

" But now life's slumberous current
No sun-bowed cascade wakes ;

No tall, heroic manhood
The level dullness breaks.

"Oh, for a knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear I

My light glove on his casque of steel,
My love-knot on his spear I "

Then I said, my own heart throbbing
To the time her proud pulse beat,

" Life hath its regal natures yet,
True, tender, brave, and sweet.

" Smile not, fair unbeliever I
One man at least I know

Who might wear the crest of Ba3rard
Or Sidney's plume of snow.

" Once, when over purple mountains
Died away the Grecian sun.

And the far Cyllenian ranges

Paled and darkened, one by one, —

" Fell the Turk, a bolt of thunder,
Cleaving all the quiet sky.

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''A KNIGHT WITHOUT REPROACH'' 171

And against his sharp steel lightnings
Stood the Suliote but to die.

"Woe for the weak and halting!

The crescent blazed behind
A curving line of sabers,

Like fire before the wind.

" Last to fly and first to rally,

Rode he of whom I speak.
When, groaning in his bridle-path.

Sank down a wounded Greek, —

" With the rich Albanian costume

Wet with many a ghastly stain.
Gazing on earth and sky as one

Who might not gaze again I '

" He looked forward to the mountains.

Back on foes that never spare ;
Then flung him from his saddle,

And placed the stranger there.

" * Allah I hu 1 * Through flashing sabers,

Through a stormy hail of lead,
The good Thessalian charger

Up the slopes of olives sped.

" Hot spurred the turbaned riders, —

He almost felt their breath,
Where a mountain stream rolled darkly down

Between the hills and death.

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172 LOVERS OF MANKIND

" One brave and manful struggle, —
He gained the solid land,

And the cover of the mountains,
And the carbines of his band."

" It was very great and noble,"
Said the moist-eyed listener then,

" But one brave deed makes no hero;
Tell me what he since hath been."

" Wouldst know him now ? Behold him^
The Cadmus of the blind.

Giving the dumb lip language,
The idiot clay a mind.

" Walking his round of duty

Serenely day by day,
With the strong man's hand of labor

And childhood's heart of play.

** True as the knights of story.
Sir Lancelot and his peers.

Brave in his calm endurance
As they in tilt of spears.

** Wherever outraged Nature
Asks word or action brave,

Wherever struggles labor.
Wherever groans a slave, —

** Wheiever rise the peoples.
Wherever sinks a throne,

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"^* KNIGHT WITilOUT REPROACH'' 173

The throbbing heart of Freedom finds
An answer in his own.

" Knight of a better era,

Without reproach or fear !
Said I not well that Bayards

And Sidneys still are here ? "

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THE STORY OF MARY LYON

Mary Lyon lived with her widowed mother on a
rocky farm among the Berkshire Hills. She had
five sisters and a brother, and all but one were older
than she.

The place was so high up among the hills that it
was known as the Mountain Farm. With much
hard labor and the best of management, such a farm
could be made to produce only a very little — so
little that it was but a slender living, indeed, for six
growing girl? and a boy.

But Mrs. Lyon was courageous and hopeful, and
the children were willing to work. Hence, with so
many little hands doing their part, the wolf was
kept from the door and each Jay brought a round
of humble joys to the struggling family.

There was no school near the Mountain Farm,
and the children were obliged to walk to Ash-
field, two miles away. It was there that Mary dis-
tinguished herself. There was no better speller in

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THE STORY OF MARY LYON 175

the school She learned all the rules of grammar
in a wonderfully short time. No boy could «ee
through a problem in arithmetic as quickly as she,
and no one was more accurate with figures. She
was soon known as the pride and the prodigy of
the school.

But, whatever may have been her distinction, she
won it honestly by hard work. " It's wrong to
waste time," she said ; and so she was always busy,
reading, studying, doing chores on the farm, or
helping her mother in the house.

" Shell be the scholar of the family," said her
elder sisters. But while she was anxious to be a
scholar, she was far more anxious to be helpful to
other people.

When she was thirteen there came great changes
to the family. Mrs. Lyon married again and went
to live in a distant town with her husband. The
elder girls were already gone. Only Mary and her
brother remained. The brother took care of the
farm and paid Mary a dollar a week to keep the
house in order.

Soon the brother married, but Mary still helped
with the housework. She did spinning and weav-

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176 LOVERS OF MANKIND

ing for the neighbors and thus earned money for
her own support.

The people of Shelburne Falls wanted some one
to teach a summer school in their village. Mary
Lyon offered herself for the position. She was
only sixteen years old, but she was a woman in
looks and behavior.

The school term would last twenty weeks and she
was to receive seventy-five cents a week and board.
Fifteen dollars for five months' work was not much ;
but the thrifty Yankees at Shelburne Falls said it was
enough for a girl. Mary put every cent of it aside
and saved it till it would be of the greatest use to her.

When she was twenty, she counted her money
and found that by living very carefully she had
enough to pay her expenses for a few months at a
boarding school. To be a good scholar, to be a
good teacher, was the dream of her life. Every-
thing was bent to make that dream come true.

The Sanderson Academy at Ashfield was a good
school for girls, as such schools went at that time.
Mary Lyon became enrolled as one of its students.
Oh, the labor, the weariness, the anxiety of the few
months she was able to spend there I

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THE STORY OF MARY LYON 177

She knew that her money would not last long.
Hence, she wasted no time. She denied herself of
needed rest. She taxed her strength to its utmost.

Her energy soon made itself felt She advanced
so rapidly that it was not long until she stood at
the head of all her classes. Everybody said that
she was the finest scholar that was ever enrolled in
Sanderson Academy.

The next summer she taught another brief term
of school, earned a little more money, and then
hastened back to the academy. Thus for five years
she worked her way in spite of every discourage-
ment, and at the end of that time she was chosen
an assistant in the academy. Young persons of
ability who are willing to do honest work seldom
have to go begging for places. Mary Lyon was
offered more positions than she could accept.

Then she did a thing unheard of. She went to
a professor at Amherst College and induced him to
give her special lessons in chemistry, in order that
she might instruct her own pupils in that branch.

Many .good people held up their hands in wonder.
"What business has a girl to learn about such
things?" they asked.

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178 LOVERS OF MANKIND

Now, I should explain that in Mary Lyon's time
— which was not so very long ago — there was not
a girls' college in all the world. There was no
school in the United States in which a young lady
could be educated as thoroughly and as well as a
young man. Thfere were many female academies,
as they were called, where the daughters of the rich
were taught fashionable accomplishments, — a little
history, a little poetry, a little French, and perhaps
a little Greek and Latin. But that was all. The
bare idea of a girl studying the sciences or trying
to qualify herself for any useful occupation was
thought not only ridiculous, but wrong.

It was right here that Mary Lyon began to
make her work and her influence felt. " Why
may not young women have the same educa-
tional opportunities as their brothers } " she said.
And the rest of her life was given to the work-
ing out of that problem.

She went back to her native town. She rented
a small room and gave notice that she would open
a school for girls.

To her surprise she enrolled twenty-five pupils.
Within a week the number was doubled and the

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THE STORY OF MARY LYON 179

school was removed to the village hall. This
place, too, was soon filled to overflowing, and
many of the classes were obliged to meet in
private houses.

The tuition fees were very small, just enough
to pay running expenses. But Mary Lyon was
not teaching for money. She was teaching to
establish a principle and to benefit humanity.

Her school was continued for six years. It was
the first school of its class in America to which
the daughters of people in humble circumstances
could afford to go.

I need not tell of the struggles that followed.
Mary Lyon had made up her mind to establish a
great school for the education of girls, and she
labored steadfastly to that end. Through all
sorts of discouragements she persevered, feeling
sure that she would succeed in the end.

At length, when she had completed her thirty-
seventh year, she was able to see her dearest
wishes realized. With the aid of sympathizing
friends, she had secured money enough to pur-
chase land and erect buildings for the beginning
of ner school. It was called Mount Holyoke

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i8o LOVERS OF MANKIND

Seminary. On the first day there were three
times as many students as could be accommo-
dated. More than two hundred were turned away
because there was no room for them.

For twelve years Mary Lyon lived to conduct
this school which was to illustrate her idea of
the proper education of young women. Nearly
twenty-four hundred pupils came to her, and were
influenced by her enthusiasm, by her self-denial,
and by her untiring devotion to duty.

The school at Mount Holyoke was the fore-
runner of scores of noble institutions all over our
country that have since been founded in order
to give to American girls the same opportunities
for culture that are given to their brothers.

"There is nothing in the universe that I fear,'"
said Mary Lyon, " but that I shall not know all
my duty, or that I shall fail to do it."

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THE APOSTLE OF THE INDIANS ^

Among the earliest of the French missionaries
in Canada there were two who will ever be remem-
bered for their courage and zeal. One was Charles
Raymbault, whose pious energy was far superior
to his bodily strength. The other was Isaac
Jogues, a young man of scholarly tastes, refined in
manners, and gentle in disposition. These men,
hearing of wild tribes in the far Northwest, deter-
mined to go to them.

In a light canoe, with a friendly Indian as guide,
they embarked on Lake Huron and set out for
regions hitherto unknown. It was in June when
they started. It was in September when they
reached the end of their voyage. They landed at
the foot of some rapids which they named the Sault
de Sainte Marie (Falls of St. Mary). They were only
a short distance from the outlet of that great fresh
water sea which we now call Lake Superior^

* Retold from the " Discovery of the Old Northwest."
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At the foot of the rapids there was a village of
Chippewa Indians; and on the hills farther back,
nearly two thousand savages of other tribes were
encamped. Every summer these people came to
this place to catch whitefish from the rapids.

Raymbault was unable to go farther. Overcome
by the hardships of the long voyage, his feeble body
could endure no more. He was carried into the
wigwam of a friendly Chippewa, and there Father
Jogues nursed him with loving care.

"I had hoped," said the dying man, "to pass
through this wilderness. . . . But God in his mercy
has set me in the path of heaven ! " — and then he
ceased to breathe.

With tears and prayers Father Jogues laid the
body of his brother in the grave, and then, after a
very brief stay with the Chippewas, set out on his
return to Canada. Early the next summer he was
back at Quebec, telling of his adventures and seek-
ing to interest others in the welfare of the tribes he
had discovered in the far Northwest.

Toward the end of July he started on a visit to
some missions near the foot of Lake Huron. He
had with him three Frenchmen and nearly forty

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THE APOSTLE OF THE INDIANS 183

Indians, most of them returning to their homes in
the Huron country. They embarked in twelve
canoes and paddled briskly up the St. Lawrence.
The country south of the great river was infested
by the Iroquois, a fierce race of savages who had
sworn undying hatred to the French and their
Huron allies. The canoes, therefore, kept quite
close to the north shore, and every place that might
harbor a lurking foe was carefully avoided.

The company reached Three Rivers in safety —
the only settlement at that time between Quebec
and Montreal. There they rested two nights and a
day ; and there they were warned to be more than
ever watchful against the Iroquois, whose war par-
ties were known to be abroad. On the morning
of the second day they reembarked and soon en-
tered that beautiful expansion of the river now
known as the Lake of St. Peter.

Suddenly, when danger was least thought of,
a fleet of Iroquois canoes shot out from behind a
sheltering island. They were filled with savage
warriors, who advanced yelling the fierce war cries
of their nation. The Frenchmen and Hurons were
frightened almost out of their wits. They paddled

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1 84 LOVERS OF MANKIND

for the shore, and several escaped into the woods.
Father Jogues might have saved himself in the
same way, had he not seen some of his friends in
the clutches of the Iroquois.

" I will die with them, " he slaid ; and he gave
himself up.

The victorious savages, with twenty-two pris-
oners, hastened to return to their own country.
They paddled up the Richelieu River to Lake
Champlain, and then along the western shore of that
water, until they neared its southern end. There,
at the mouth of a turbulent stream from the west,
the Indians shouldered their canoes. They pushed
onward through the woods and over the hills, drag-
ging their prisoners with them. They made no
pause until they reached another sheet of water — a
small but beautiful expanse surrounded on every
side by mountains. This, the most romantic of all
our eastern lakes, was known to the Indians as
Andiarocte, or the Place where the Great Water
Ends. Father Jogue named it the Lake of the Holy
Sacrament. We call it Lake George.

Suffering every kind of indignity from the cruel
Iroquois, — his body beaten with their clubs, his

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"They pushed onward through the woods."

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1 86 LOVERS OF MANKIND

hands mangled by their teeth, his face scorched
with hot coals, — ^^it is not likely that Father Jogues
gave much attention to the beauty of the scene
around him. His thoughts, we must believe, were
rather with his fellow-prisoners, some of whom were
in worse case even than himself.

After a short rest, the Iroquois again embarked
in their canoes. With their faces turned southward,
they paddled silently and without pause through-
out the long summer day. Near evening they
landed at the spot where Fort William Henry was
to stand in later times. There they hid their
canoes in the thickets ; and then, elated by their
success, they hastened through the woods, reaching
at last the Mohawk villages on the banks of the
river that is still called by the name of that fierce
tribe.

The story of the cruelties inflicted upon Father
Jogues is too painful to repeat. For more than a
year he was made to suffer every abuse that savage
ingenuity could invent. He was led from town to
town and tortured for the amusement of the women
and children. His life was in danger ever hour.
Yet he never lost his patience, he never uttered a

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THE APOSTLE OF THE INDIANS 187

harsh word, he gave thanks daily that he was still
alive to suffer.

" These poor men have never been taught," he
said. " They know no better. God will forgive
them."

Even in the midst of suffering and torture he was
ready and anxious to help any one that was in trou-
ble. He lifted up the fallen, he prayed for the sick,
he asked God's blessing upon the dying.

At length some Dutch settlers at Albany became
interested in his case and helped him to escape. A
small sailing vessel carried him down the Hudson
to Manhattan ; and from that place he shortly after-
ward took ship for Europe.

In France this gentlest of men was received with
the reverence due to one who had suffered much
for God and humanity. The ladies of the court
showed him every kindness, and the queen kissed
his maimed hands. But these attentic ns counted as
but little to Father Jogues. His heart was set upon
returning to Canada and to his work among the
Indians. Early in the following spring he was
again at Quebec.

Two years later, he was permitted to do that

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which he had long desired. He went as a mission-
ary to the Mohawk villages where he had endured
so many cruelties. His friends protested. The
savagery of the people who had caused his suffer-
ings stirred within his heart no feelings but those of
love and pity. He felt that they needed his help.
" I will go to them, but I ^hall not return," he said,
as he departed.

The fears of his friends, no less than his own
farewell words, proved only too well founded. Be-
fore the end of the year he was dead — slain by
the hatchet of a savage Mohawk.

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AN UNAPPRECIATED PATRIOT

Two days before the battle of Bunker Hill the
Continental Congress was sitting in the state house
at Philadelphia.

The king of Great Britain had declared the
American colonies to be in a state of rebellion and
had sent soldiers to reduce them to subjection. It
was for the Congress to provide some way of
defense.

On this particular day, therefore, it passed the
following resolution : —

" Resolved, That a General be appointed to com-
mand all the Continental Forces, raised or to be
raised for the defense of American liberty.

" That five hundred dollars per month be allowed
for the pay and expenses of the General."

Who should the General be ?

A delegate from Maryland arose and nominated
George Washington of Virginia.

On the following day the president of the Con-
gress informed Washington officially that he had

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been unanimously chosen to be commander in chief
of all the forces of the American colonies.

Washington arose and thanked the Congress for
the honor which it had conferred upon him ; and
while declaring that he did not think himself equal
to the duties required of him, he asserted his readi-
ness to do all that he could for " the support of the
glorious cause."

" As to pay," he continued, " I beg leave to assure
the Congress that as no pecuniary consideration
could have tempted me to accept this arduous
employment, I do not wish to make any profit from
it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses.
These, I doubt not, they will discharge, and that is
all I desire."

Thus, the united American colonies entered upon
a long and precarious war with the mother country.
They had as yet no efficient army: they had no
money ; but they felt a supreme faith in the right-
eousness of their cause.

Upon George Washington of Virginia devolved
the task of organizing, equipping, and conducting
the army. Upon Robert Morris of Pennsylvania
devolved the task of supplying the funds for the

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AN UNAPPRECIATED PATRIOT 191

carrying on of the war. Without the patriotic
labors of both these men, it is not unreasonable
to believe that the colonies would have failed to
achieve their liberty and the war would have ended
in disaster.

Robert Morris was at the head of the largest
commercial house in Philadelphia; he was the
leading man of business in America. In the Con-
gress of 1775 he was active in pushing forward and
sustaining the war, and people soon perceived that
the country must very largely depend upon him for
financial aid.

When the Declaration of Independence was
proposed, Robert Morris voted against it. He was
in favor of independence, but he did not believe the
time was ripe for it. When the day came for
adopting the Declaration, however, he signed it,
and thus pledged his life and his fortune to the
cause of liberty.

The months that followed were months of trial
and great perplexity. How should the money be
obtained for feeding and clothing and arming the pa-
triot forces under Washington ? It required all the
skill and experience of Robert Morris to provide for

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192 LOVERS OF MANKIND

the necessities of the new government. It required,
also, an amount of self-sacrifice which few other men
would have been willing to make. Often he was
obliged to borrow large sums of money, for which
he became personally responsible. Through his ex-
ertions, three million rations of provisions were for-
warded to the army just at the moment when such
aid was most needed.

In the following year he was appointed super-
intendent of finance, or, as we should now say,
secretary of the treasury, for the United States.
But the treasury was empty ; the Congress was in
debt two and a half million dollars ; the army was
destitute ; there was no one who would lend to the
government ; without some immediate aid the war
could not go on. Nevertheless, people had con-
fidence in Robert Morris, and it was that confidence
which saved the day.

He began by furnishing the army with several
thousand barrels of flour, pledging his own means
to pay for it.

When Washington decided to make a bold cam-
paign in Virginia against Lord Cornwallis, it was
to Robert Morris that he looked for support.

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AN UNAPPRECIATED PATRIOT 193

" We are in want of food, of clothing, of arms,"
said the general. "We have not even the means
of transporting the army from place to place or
subsisting it in the field."

" I myself," said Robert Morris, " will see that
you are provided."

He hastened to borrow of his friends all the
money they were willing to spare for the cause of
liberty. He pledged his own means to the last
shilling. He directed the commissary to send
forward all necessary supplies for the army in
Virginia. He procured boats for transporting
troops and provisions. He left nothing undone ;
he spared no pains to make the campaign in Vir-
ginia a successful one. Washington's victory at
Yorktown was to a large degree the result no
less of his own skill and courage than of the
energy and self-sacrifice of Robert Morris.

At the close of the war there was no money to
pay off the soldiers and there was great dissatis-
faction on every side. Robert Morris came for-
ward, and by endorsing certificates to the amount
of three quarters of a million dollars, relieved the
public distress and made it possible to disband the

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194 LOVERS OF MANKIND

army. While doing this, he again pledged him-
self personally to see that all the obligations that
he had made in behalf of the government were
properly satisfied.

It is pleasant to remember that the money which
he had ^o generously advanced in aid of the cause
of liberty was finally paid back to him, and that
his faith in the honesty of the government was
not misplaced.

On the other hand, it is sad to relate that the
last years of this doer of golden deeds were
clouded with misfortune. He had invested largely
in lands, believing that he would be able to sell
at a great profit. He was disappointed, however.
There was no demand for the lands, and Robert
Morris was unable to pay his debts. He was sent
to prison, and for four years was shut up in a
debtor's cell.

While all patriotic Americans join in honoring
General Washington for his victories in war, how
few there are who remember the services of the
man who made these victories possible I

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A PRINCELY MERCHANT

Many years ago a slender lad of seventeen left
his home in Massachusetts and went to George-
town, District of Columbia, to clerk in his uncle's
store. No one who saw him then would have
guessed that he would ever become one of the
world's famous men. Yet his pleasant manners
and his quiet ways made him the favorite of all
who knew him.

" I do believe that Fortune is in love with my
nephew George," said the uncle. " Why, he seems
to turn everything to good account, and whatever he
touches prospers."

But Fortune, even if she were in love with him,
had not endowed him with wealth and fine oppor-
tunities to begin with. His school days had ended
in his eleventh year, and since then he had been
making his own way. For four years he had
swept floors, washed windows, and carried pack-
ages for a grocer in his native town of Danvers.
Then he had gone out to seek a larger business

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elsewhere. And at length we find him in his uncle's
store selling broadcloth and silk, and very soon
managing the whole business.

He seemed to have a natural insight into the
proper methods of conducting any commercial
enterprise. He knew what goods would be most
in demand at a given time ; he knew when to buy
and when to sell. He was honest in all his deal-
ings, and polite and accommodating to every one,
whether young or old, rich or poor. To his cus-
tomers he was always considerate, never trying to
persuade them to buy what they did not want.

Of course, other merchants soon learned of
George Peabody's engaging ways and his won-
derful aptitude for business. Elisha Riggs offered
to form a partnership with him.

"I will supply the capital," he said, "and you may
conduct the business. If there are any profits, we
will share them equally."

" But I am only a boy, Mr. Riggs," said young
Peabody. " I am not quite nineteen."

"You are the man for the business," answered
Mr. Riggs.

Accordingly the firm of Riggs & Peabody was

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A PRINCELY MERCHANT 197

formed. Wholesale drapers, they called themselves,
and their business prospered from the start. With
such a manager as George Peabody, there could be
no such word as fail. The next year they removed
to Baltimore, and soon afterward they established
branch houses in Philadelphia and New York.

In 1826 Mr. Riggs retired, and George Peabody,
at the age of thirty-one, found himself the senior
partner in a very large and profitable business.
The management of his affairs now called him
often to London, and he soon saw that much time
could be saved and many inconveniences ;avoided
by establishing his headquarters there. In 1837,
therefore, hq took up his abode in England. He
soon withdrew from the firm of Peabody, Riggs &
Co., and established himself in London as a banker
and commission agent.

He was paving the way for the performance of
many golden deeds.

In 1852, when a ship was being fitted out in New
York to visit the Arctic seas in search of Sir John
Franklin, Mr. Peabody gave ten thousand dollars
to defray the expenses of the voyage. In the fol-
lowing year he made a large gift to his native town

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198 LOVERS OF MANKIND

for the purpose of founding there an institute and
a library for the benefit of the people. From that
time till the day of his death, he was always giving,
giving. The list of his benefactions is very long.

He gave a million dollars to found and endow an
institution for science in Baltimore. To many col-
leges and libraries in this country he gave various
sums ranging from five thousand to half a million
dollars. To the Southern Educational Fund he
gave two-and-a-half million dollars to be used for
the education* of the poor in ihe South. And to
the city of London he gave two-and-a-half million
dollars for the erection of dwelling houses for poor
workingmen. For this last gift the Queen sent
him her thanks, and declared it to be " a noble act
of more than princely munificence."

In recognition of his good deeds, the people
attempted in various ways to express their grati-
tude. The corporation of London granted him the
Freedom of the City, an honor seldom conferred,
except upon the greatest of men. Arrangements
were also made for the erection of his statue in a
public place. He received all honors with much
modesty; and when as a mark of esteem he was

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A PRINCELY MERCHANT 199

asked to be the guest of honor at a reception or a
public meeting, he gently declined. Only once did
he appear in public in London, and that was at the
close of an exhibition by the working-classes in 1866.

When seventy-one years of age he made prepara-
tions to pay a visit to his native land. Learning of
this, the Queen proposed to honor him by making
him a baronet, but he declined. She offered to
make him a Knight of the Order of the Bath, but he
declined that honor also, feeling that as an Ameri-
can he could not accept any title of nobility. Then
the question was asked him, " Since you will not
receive these honors, is there not some gift that the
Queen may bestow in order to express her esteem
and gratitude ? "

He pondered a moment, and then answered,
"Yes, there is one gift which I would gratefully
receive and appreciate. Jt is a letter from the
Queen of England, which I may carry across the
Atlantic and deposit there as a memorial from one
of her most faithful admirers."

A few days later this letter was received. He
carried it to America and deposited it with a portrait
of the Queen in the Peabody Institute at Danvers.

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200 LOVERS OF MANKIND

When George Peabody died in 1869, the people
of two continents mourned for him. His works live
after him, and the good which they do increases with
each passing year. Generation after generation will
profit by his beneficence, and his name will long be
remembered as that of one who loved his fellow-
men.

Some will say that, without great natural apti-
tude and many advantages, no one can achieve
the success of George Peabody. Listen to what
he himself said at the dedication of the Peabody
Institute at Danvers: —

"There is not a youth within the sound of my
voice whose early opportunities and advantages
are not very much better than mine were. I have
achieved nothing that is impossible to the most
humble boy among you. Steadfast and undevi-
ating truth, fearless and straightforward integrity,
and. an honor unsullied by an unworthy word or
action make their possessor greater than worldly
success."

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IN ARCTIC SEAS

For three hundred years the discovery of a
northwest passage around the continent of Amer-
ica was the dream of European navigators. Eng-
lish merchants and sailors were especially anxious to
find some, way of reaching the Pacific Ocean and
China which would be shorter and quicker than by
the long voyage around Cape Horn or the Cape
of Good Hope. Vessel after vessel was sent into
the Arctic seas to grope darkly along wintry shores,
to lose themselves in a wilderness of ice, and finally
to return with the report that no such passage could
be found.

Look upon a map of the Arctic regions. You
will find it strewn with names in commemoration
of the brave men who risked their lives in the
effort to solve the great mystery. Bafiin and Davis
and Frobisher and Parry and Hudson and a score
of others, each made some new discovery of bay or
strait or frozen promontory, but none was able to

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find a way through the icy barriers which opposed
them.

One of the most daring, and, indeed, one of the
most successful of these northern heroes was Sir
John Franklin. His first voyage was made in
1819. f^^^ object was not so much to discover an
open passage through the seas as to determine the
position of the northern coast line of America. He
landed on the southwestern shore of Hudson Bay
and made his way overland to Great Slave Lake.
Then traveling northward he reached the Arctic
shores which he followed for more than five hun-
dred miles. Five years later he led a second
expedition ; and this time explored the coast for
nearly four hundred miles west of the Mackenzie
River. In 1845 he was appointed to the command
of an expedition sent out by the British government
for the discovery of the northwest passage. He set
sail early in the spring, having two well-equipped
ships, the Erebus and Terror, with picked crews of
a hundred and thirty-four men. On the 26th of
July, a whaling vessel passed the two ships in
Baflfin's Bay, and all were well. They were never
seen again.

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IN ARCTIC SEAS 203

Two years passed without much anxiety, and
then the question began to be asked, "Where is
Sir John Franklin?" A ship was fitted out to
sail to Baffin's Bay, find him, and give him such
help as might be needed. Little fear did any one
have that any serious misfortune had befallen him.

But when the relief ship came back and reported
that no trace of the Erebus and Terror could be
found, everybody became anxious and alarmed.
Expedition after expedition was sent out, all
charged with . the one great duty of finding Sir
John Franklin. For six years the search was
kept - up, and during that time no fewer than
fifteen such expeditions were equipped, some at
public, some at private expense, and dispatched
into the Arctic seas.

In 1850, Henry Grinnell, an American merchant,
offered to fit out two ships for the purpose of
making a more careful search for the lost explorers.
" It is possible," said he, " that Sir John Franklin's
vessels are still safe and sound, and floating in an
open sea of clear and warmer water, which we
may suppose surrounds the North Pole. In such
case they are imprisoned by an encircling wall of

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204 LOVERS OF MANKIND

icebergs, and will escape as soon as the shifting
of these icebergs opens a convenient channel."

Mr. Grinnell's vessels were small sailing ships,
the larger one called the Advance, the smaller, the
Rescue. They were placed under the command
of Naval Lieutenant De Haven with a young
surgeon, Elisha Kent Kane, as second in com-
mand. From the beginning. Dr. Kane was the
leading spirit of the expedition, and to his golden
deeds was due whatever of success it achieved.
Instruments, ammunition, and rations for three
years were supplied by the government.

Northward, northward the two small vessels
sailed, drawing nearer every day to the mysterious
region of cold and darkness and danger. They
were so far north on the 24th of June that the sun
scarcely dipped below the horizon. In September
they were farther north than any other vessel had
ever wintered. The ice closed around them ; they
were helpless and motionless in the midst of a vast
frozen sea.

Then the darkness of the long Arctic night set
in. For one hundred and forty days the light of
the sun was not once seen. On every side there

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2o6 LOVERS OF MANKIND

was naught but a solid sea of ice stretching north,
south, east, west, no man could tell how many
leagues.

But those dark days were not spent in idleness.
Every man had something to do. Some kept the
ships in order, some went hunting, some provided
games and amusements to cheer the spirits of the
more despondent. When at last daylight returned
and the ice began to break up, it was found that
nine other vessels had wintered at no great distance
from the Advance and Rescue. All were on the
same golden errand — to learn tidings of Sir John
Franklin and his men.

The American vessels gallantly led the way
wherever they could go. Indeed, their commander
appeared to be so indifferent to danger that the
more cautious English captains nicknamed him
"the mad Yankee."

At a place called Cape Riley, one of the English
captains discovered the first traces of the lost
party. At this place. Sir John ha;d no doubt
encamped for a while, for here were found some
remains of a tent, a great number of birds' bones,
and some empty tin cans. Farther on, still other

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JN ARCTIC SEAS 207

traces were discovered, showing that the first
winter quarters of Sir John Franklin must have
been there.

After this no further sign could be seen, no word
could be heard of the unfortunate Franklin or of
any of his crew. The short summer was spent in
cruising through dangerous seas, and on the 3d of
October, 185 1, the Advance and Rescue were both
safely back in New York harbor.

On the 30th of May, 1853, Dr. Kane sailed in
command of another expedition to the Arctic seas.
He had but one ship, the Advance, and it had been
equipped and furnished by Mr. Grinnell, with the
aid of George Peabody of London.

Still believing that Sir John Franklin's vessels
might be imprisoned in an open polar sea, he
pushed northward as far as possible before being
caught in the ice. The Advance at last went into
winter quarters in Van Rensselaer Harbor, far up
the western coast of Greenland. No other ship had
ever wintered so far north.

While his vessel lay imprisoned in the ice, Dr.
Kane made long excursions into frozen Greenland.
He explored the coast for more than a hundred

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2o8 LOVERS OF MANKIND

miles northward and eastward, traveling in sledges
drawn by dogs.

Late in May, he made a still longer journey, and
finally discovered open water far to the north.
All along this open channel there were numbers of
animals, such as bears, seals, and birds. Dr. Kane
believed that if he had been prepared to follow this
channel he would have reached the open polar sea.
But his ship was still fast imprisoned in the ice in
Van Rensselaer Harbor.

When he returned, it was the loth of July. The
ice-pack around the Advance instead of melting
away was growing thicker. The only thing to be
done was to abandon the vessel and try to reach
the coast settlement of Greenland, by land. It was
determined, however, to remain at Van Rensselaer
Harbor through another winter.

In the following May, taking their light boats and
sledges with them, the party set out on their long
and tiresome journey. To tell of their hardships and
of the many perils which they narrowly escaped would
make too long a story. For eighty-four days they
toiled onward, almost ready to despair, but cheered
and strengthened by the hopeful words and example

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IN ARCTIC SEAS 209

of their leader. At length, on the 9th of August,
weary, disheartened, and half famished, they reached
the Danish settlement of Upernavik.

A few weeks later they were found there by
Captain Hartstene of the United States navy,
who had been sent with two vessels to their relief.

From his boyhood. Dr. Kane had never known
what it was to be robust and strong. The rough
life, the exposure to cold, the many privations he
had experienced, told sadly upon his health. When
he returned to New York, it was plain that his
days were numbered. He visited Cuba in the hope
that, with a change of climate, health might return.

It was all in vain, however. One pleasant day,
while sitting with his mother, he gently fell asleep
to be awakened no more in this life.

After his death people began to recognize and
appreciate his noble character. In England, no
less than in America, his name was honored as
that of a true hero and a doer of golden deeds.

GOLDEN DEEDS — 14

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE

" 1 reckon him greater than any man
That ever drew sword in war ;
I reckon him nobler than king or khan,
Braver and better by far."

— Joaquin Miller.

Scene I

Come with me into a little hatter's shop, such
as they had in New York a hundred years ago.

The dingy little sign over the door tells us that
it belongs to John Cooper and that hats, are both
made and sold here.

We enter the single room. It is narrow and
low, with small windows at each side and a yawn-
ing fireplace at one end. The air is close and
stifling. The furniture is very old-fashioned.

The hats, too, although in the style of that day,
are strangely old-fashioned when compared with
those of the twentieth century. You would laugh at
their shape and texture ; and all are made by hand.

There are only five or six apprentices and work-

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' Hats are both made and sold here. "

[ail]

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212 LOVERS OF MANKIJSTD

men in the shop. Business is not carried on in a
large way here.

The proprietor greets us cordially. He is a
hard-working man, well past middle age. He is
always busy, always planning great things for
the future, and never succeeding very well at
anything. It is said that John Cooper was a
lieutenant in the Revolutionary War — a stanch
patriot and an honest man.

But more interesting than the proprietor is a
little boy who stands at a long table near one side
of the room. He is so small that his head comes
just above the edge of the table. He is pulling
the hairs out of rabbit skins and putting them
carefully into a bag. These hairs will be used in
making beaver hats.

You ask the lad how long he has been at this
kind of work. He does not know. He cannot
remember when he began it, but it was certainly
as soon as he was big enough to do anything.

His large, long face beams with intelligence.
Small as he is, and simple as his work may be,
he IS anxious to do everything well. Even the
pulling of rabbit hairs requires care and dexterity.

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE 213

His father, John Cooper, watches him with
parental pride.

" His name is Peter," he says. " I named him
after the great apostle, because I have always felt
that he will do much good in the world."

Peter has heard this remark often, and the words
are not lost on him. True, he doesn't know much
about the world. His experience has taught him
that life is a daily round of eating a little, sleeping
a little, playing a little, and working a great deal.
But since his father expects him to be like his name-
sake and do much good in the world, he is deter-
mined not to disappoint him.

" Peter works hard," continues his father, " and he
plays even harder. Do you see that scar on his
forehead } He got that when he was four years
old, falling off the framework of a house which he
had climbed. He likes to play with knives and
axes, and he has cut himself more than once.
He'll carry some of those scars as long as he
lives.

" He helps his mother do the washing — in fact,
he's handy at almost everything. And he's always
trying to make something."

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214 LOVERS OF MANKIND

His father's praise pleases the lad; and he goes
on, pulling hairs from the rabbit skins.

Scene II

Several years have passed.

In an upper room of a coach-maker's shop on
Broadway, a young man is at work. It is evening
and all the other workmen have gone home.

The room is dark, save for the little light that
comes from a sputtering tallow candle. The young
man is standing by a carpenter's bench. He moves
the candle from place to place to throw the best
light on his work.

It is plain that he is not working at a coach. The
evening hours are his own, and he is using them for
his own purposes. While the other workmen are
wasting their time in idleness or folly, he is trying
to perfect some invention which his brain has
studied out.

By the flickering candlelight we are able to dis-
cern his features. We see the same large, open
countenance, the same earnest eye — yes, and that
same scar on the forehead. The lad who was pull-
ing rabbit hairs has grown to be a man.

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE 215

Presently the door opens. The master coach
builder enters.

" Peter," he says, " you have been with me now
almost four years and your apprenticeship will end
next week. How would you like to set up a shop
of your own ? "

" Oh, Mr. Woodwafd," answers Peter, " I should
like it very much, indeed. But I have not the
means to do so. You know that my salary with
you has been only twenty-five dollars a year."

" Yes, I know," answers Mr. Woodward, " and I
don't suppose that you have been able to save any
of your salary. But there is that patent cloth-shear-
ing machine of yours. Surely you have realized
something from that ? "

Peter stammers and hesitates. Then he says:
"Yes, I did realize something from that, and I will tell
you what became of it. I had five hundred dollars
in my pocket, which Mr. Vassar paid me for the
county right to the machine. I had never expected
to have so much money, and I was very proud :
The first thing that I did, as you know, was to go to
Newburgh to see father and mother and tell them
about it,

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2i6 LOVERS OF MANKIND

" What do you suppose I saw when I opened the
door, expecting a glad welcome ? Why, I saw the
whole family in tears and such a look of distress on
my father's face as I shall never forget. I soon
learned what the trouble was. You know how he
has tried many kinds of business — hatmaking in
New York, brickmaking in Peekskill and Catskill,
brewing in Newbiirgh, and then hatmaking again.
Well, he failed in them all, and the last failure was
the worst.

" In fact, the sheriff was expected at any moment
to seize upon and sell everything in the house, and
even to arrest father and take him to jail.

" I asked father how much he owed. He told me
that his debts were more than a thousand dollars,
but he thought that if he had only half that amount
he might satisfy his most clamorous creditors and
manage in some way to pull through. Well, there
was my five hundred dollars in my pocket. What
better could I do than to give every penny of it to
father? Then I signed notes for the rest of the
debts, and left everybody happy.

" So you see, Mr. Woodward, that I have nothing
from the machines that I can invest in business,

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE 217

and that it would be simply impossible for me to
set up a coach-maker's shop of my own."

" Yes, Peter, I understand," says Mr. Woodward.
" In fact, I have known all this for some time.
What I wish to do is to lend you the money to set
up in business. You can give me your notes with-
out interest, and make the payments after you have
begun to realize something from your shop. Will
you allow me to help in this way ? "

Peter hesitates a moment ; and then replies : " I
thank you with all my heart, Mr. Woodward.
But I must decline your kind offer. I have seen so
much distress and disappointment caused by going
in debt, that I have made a firm resolution never to
buy anything for which I have not the ready money
to pay immediately. Your offer is very tempting,
but you must pardon me if I stand by my resolu-
tion, which I think is the safer way."

Thus at the age of twenty-one Peter Cooper's
apprenticeship is ended. He is his own man, and
he goes forth to make his way in the world, inde-
pendent, and confident of success, and yet almost
penniless.

His school days have been few — only a month

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21 8 LOVERS OF MANKIND

or two each winter for three or four years. His op-
portunities have been limited. But he is an accom-
plished hatmaker, he has worked at brickmaking,
he is a coach builder, and he is expert with all
kinds of tools. He has strong arms, willing hands,
and a boundless ambition to succeed.
And he will succeed.

Scene HI

It is the 13th of April, 1859.

At the junction of Third Avenue and Fourth
Avenue in the city of New York, a new building
has just been completed. It is a stately edifice,
built of brown stone, and six stories in height.

At the time which I mention, there is not another
building in the city that equals it in magnitude and
beauty. It is the wonder and admiration of all
visitors to the metropolis.

Above the main entrance, carved on the brown-
stone front of the building, is the mystic word,
" UNION." Should you ask why this word is here, you
will be told that it indicates the name and the purpose
of the building, for this is the home of the " Cooper
Upipn for th^ Advancement of Science ^ncj Art/*

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE 219

Its construction was begun six years ago. It
has cost thfee quarters of a million dollars — an
immense sum at this time.

An old man has watched with eager interest
every process in the construction of this monu-
mental building. Observe him as he passes now
through the completed rooms. He is plain — very
plain — certainly a man of the people. And that
broad, kindly countenance — surely we have seen
it before. Yes, and there is the scar on the
forehead.

This is our old friend Peter Cooper. He is
sixty-eight years old, and on this day he sees the
completion of the dearest project of his life,

Nearly half a century has passed since his ap-
prenticeship to the coach maker ended. What has
he been doing in the meanwhile ?

Few men have been more active in business.
Let us name some of the industries and enterprises
in which he has been engaged : —

Peddling, with a knapsack and a hurdy-gurdy.

The grocery business.

The manufacture of glue, oil, whiting, and pre-
pared chalk — the real foundation of his wealth.

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220 LOVERS OF MANKIND

The manufacture of iron at Baltimore, at Tren-
ton, and at several other places.

The developn)ent of coal mines and mining
lands.

The building of the first locomotive engine in
the United States.

The laying of the first Atlantic cable.

But none of these enterprises has been so dear
to the heart of the busy man as the construction
of the brown-stone building to be known as the
Cooper Union, "to be forever devoted to the ad-
vancement of science and art."

As he passes from room to room in the now
completed edifice, his fancy pictures to him the
thousands of young men and young women who
will come from all parts of the country to be bene-
fited by his munificence.

He has known what it means to be poor. He
has known what it is to be denied the opportunity
of acquiring useful knowledge. . In the Cooper
Union the poorest young man may now be in-
structed in every branch of science or art that will
aid him in becoming a better citizen or leading a
happier life.

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE LIFE 221

Scene IV

It is May, 1881.

This morning the routine of work in the various
class rooms at the Cooper Union is being carried
on much as it has been for the past twenty years.

Promptly at half-past nine o'clock, Mr. Cooper
drives into the street just in front of the Union.

Sitting alone in a plain little wagon which is
drawn by a very steady old horse, he appears to
be the most unassuming of mortals. Who would
guess that this simple, farmer-like individual is
one of the most famous men in America ?

Yet everybody in New York knows him as
such. The people on the street recognize him,
they honor him. Among all the rushing, crowd-
ing vehicles, his little carriage h^s the right of way.
Cabs and coaches, trucks and express wagons, all
alike turn aside that "Uncle Peter" may pass on
without annoyance.

He drives to his own hitching place near the
Union. He alights and walks, slowly and some-
what feebly, into the building that is forever to
be known by his name.

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222 LOVERS OF MANKIND

He sits awhile in the main office, talking with
any one he may chance to meet there. Then he
begins his accustomed round of the various school-
rooms and recitation rooms.

Some of the teachers, knowing how feeble he is,
wish to walk with him, to help him. But, no:
ninety years old as he is, he does not like to be
waited on.

With what delight does he watch the recitations,
first in this branch, then in that ! With what
genuine interest does he inquire after the progress
of the various students, and how earnestly does
he observe the methods pursued by the different
instructors !

There are many things which he does not
understand; but the very idea that all this won-
derful knowledge is now being placed freely within
the reach of young people is extremely pleasing
to him.

And when he learns of some poor student who
needs help, how readily are his sympathies aroused,
how quickly are his purse strings loosened! He
has known what it means to thirst foreknowledge
and be unable to satisfy that thirst.

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FIVE SCENES JN A NOBLE LIFE 223

Later in the day the annual reception is held.

Mr. Cooper takes his place in the east corridor to
receive the thousands of friends and well-wishing
strangers who come with their congratulations.
He sits in the great chair provided for him, and
shakes hands with the men, women, and children
as they pass.

Each person, whether young or old, rich or
poor, is welcomed with the same hearty ''How do
you do ? " and the game genial smile.

Hundreds of the guests are old students who
have come, perhaps, from distant places, to testify
to the good which they have derived from the
Union.

" Mr. Cooper, I owe everything to you," whispers
one who is now a prosperous man of business.

" Mr. Cooper, we must put our little boy's hand
in yours," say a young couple, leading a child of
four or five years between them.

"God bless you, Uncle Peter!" cries an honest
day laborer in his workman's blouse. "YouVe
helped a good many of us poor fellows."

Boys, too bashful to come forward and speak
to the great man, stand at a distance and admire.

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2^4 LOVERS OF MANKIND

"That's him," they whisper to one another; and
they go home full of good resolutions which they
will not soon forget.

The day closes, the evening passes. The old
man sits in his place and listens with delight and
pride to the music, and the pleasant voices, and the
laughter of youth. By and by the last of the guests
bid him good night.

Then he calls for his modest little carriage, and is

driven home. The blessings .o^ thousands go with

him.

The Last Scene of All

It is the sixth day of April, 1883.

Two months ago, Peter Cooper was ninety-two
years old. Now the crape hangs on his door,
and to-day is his funeral.

Never has there been such another funeral in
New York.

Stand anywhere on Broadway below Twentieth
Street, and you see none of the bustle of business.
The stores are all closed. There is not a vehicle of
any kind in sight. A solemn stillness fills the
whole length of the street. The crowds that line
the sidewalks stand silent and speechless.

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FIVE SCENES IN A NOBLE

The :
\^\. ot the guest

ttle carriage,
tViOUsatvds go

-^^

WlC

Ali-

■-tffC

.t>eT v.^ ^^°'*^;

C^ on his aoor

lanoiheT

^tiei

;raltt

below * ,«

w ale ot ^»^^''-
bustle " ^.

>hiclec
crowds that

Ipee^

cbless-

And now the funeral carriages,

come in orderly procession down tl

the hearse passes, every head is bj

of the hero whose body it carries.

up their little children that they m

poor, the wretched, foreigners as w

cans, seem strangely touched. The

each other in attesting their esteem,

Not until the procession has mp^

length of its course and has disappe;

street, is the silence of the great

broken. Then gradually the cro\

move, and little by little the turmoi

is resumed.

It is thus that the brotherhood of n
times, perhaps once in many ages, pub
itself. Never will the great city of ]
another such day.

Why should such homage be g
Peter Cooper, the man of the people ?
the pulses of humanity be so strangelj
death?

He was a doer of golden deeds.

GOLDEN DEEDS — 1 5

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"AN ANGEL OF MERCY"

I. A Plucky Girl

One afternoon, many years ago, there was a
timid knock at the door of an old-fashioned house
in Boston. The knock was answered by the mis-
tress herself, a gray-haired, stern-faced woman of
sixty, who lived there all alone. She opened the
door softly, her lips ready to say " No " to any
expected beggar or other person who might ask her
for help.

But when she saw who was there, she started
with surprise, and her face for a moment forgot
to wear its accustomed look of severity.

"Why, Dorothy Dix!" she cried. "Where in
the world did you come from ? " Her tones, in
spite of herself, were more kind than harsh.

The child who stood on the doorstep was

scarcely twelve years of age — a mere slip of a

girl, slender and pale. She was very poorly

dressed. On her head was a little calico sun-

226

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[227]

'* I have run away from home.'

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228 LOVERS OF MANKIND

bonnet, faded and worn. On her feet were shoes
so poor and ragged that they seemed really worse
than none. She was covered with dust; she
looked very tired and hot.

" Where in the world did you come from ? "
repeated the old lady, as she drew the child into
the house and shut the door.

" Please, grandmother," was the answer, " I have
run away from home, and I have come to tell you
about it."

" Ran away from home, eh ? " said the grand-
mother, taking off the child's bonnet. "Well, I
declare, that is a pretty tale to bring me. Come,
sit down and tell me about it."

" Yes," answered Dorothy. " Things were so
bad at our house that I couldn't stand it any
longer. Father has not earned anything for
months. He does nothing but write tracts and
talk, talk, talk about the wickedness of the world.
Mother is very feeble, and yet she works hard .
and tries to keep everything going. Oh, I can-
not tell you of all our misery."

" I should think a girl of your age might help
her mother," said the grandmother, severely.

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"^iV ANGEL OF MERCY'' 229

" I have helped her all I could," said Dorothy.
" But father will not allow it. He insists that I
shall help him; and so I am kept busy all day
long, folding tracts and sewing the leaves and
tying them up in bundles. He says that he is
going to save the world with those tracts."

"I see," said the grandmother; "and while he is
saving the world, he allows his wife and children
to suffer for food."

" That's just it, grandmother, and it's all a mis-
take. I couldn't stand it any longer, and I made
up my mind to come and tell you about it. I
didn't ask anybody's leave. I just kissed mother
and the boys, and told them to be brave, and then
I started."

"And did you walk all the way from Worcester.?"

" Not all the way, grandmother. The farmers
who were driving toward Boston asked me to ride
with them, and once a stage driver took me up
and carried me a long way. The people along
the road were very kind."

"And now you are in Boston, what do you
expect to do.'^"

" If you will let me stay with you, grandmother,

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230 LOVERS OF MANKIND

I will do everything I can. I will work every
hour to earn something to help poor mother and
the boys. I will study, too, so that I may help
them more as I grow older. And I will help you,
also, grandmother."

" You are a plucky girl," said the grandmother,
"and I will see what can be done. Since you are
here, I cannot turn you away. You shall begin
your work and your studies to-morrow."

Thus, Dorothea Dix was received into her grand-
mother's home. Life had been so hard with her
that she had never known what it was to play.
Her first remembrance was of work and worry,
and of a cheerless home in which hunger and
cold were frequent visitors. But she had the
pluck which aroused her grandmother's admira-
tion. She worked at whatever came to hand, and
sent her earnings home to relieve the loved ones
there. She spent her evenings at hard study, and
soon knew more than many children of her age
who had attended school all their lives.

When she was fourteen, she said to her grand-
mother, " I am going back to Worcester to-morrow.
I am going to teach a school of little children."

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 231

"You are too young for that," said the grand-
mother. " I know you are old enough in your
thinking and acting, but people won't send their
children to a school kept by one who looks so
girlish as you."

"We shall see," said Dorothea.

Two days later she was at her mother's house
in Worcester. She put on long dresses, she
lengthened her sleeves, she tied her hair in
a knot at the back of her head. Then she
went out to solicit pupils for her school. She
was so dignified and womanish that people did
not think of her as merely a young girl.

The school was opened. The children loved
their teacher, and they learned rapidly. At the
end of the term the patrons were so well pleased
that they asked Dorothea to continue her work.

But she said, " I need to learn more so that I
can teach better," and she went back to Boston to
study and to work.

At nineteen she felt that she was well prepared
for teaching. Her grandmother owned a little
house in what is called Orange Court, and there
Dorothea opened a boarding and day school. The

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232 LOVERS OF MANKIND

school was so well kept that its fame soon spread
to other towns in Massachusetts. Pupils came even
from New Hampshire. The young teacher and
her assistants had so much to do, that any one
but Dorothea Dix would have shrunk from under-
taking more.

There were no great public schools in Boston
at that time. Only a few pupils attended the free
schools, and these were not well taught. The
children of the poor were neglected, and many
were allowed to run the streets and grow up in
ignorance and vice. The heart of Dorothea Dix
was touched, and she resolved to do what she
could to help these unfortunates. She opened a
free school in a barn belonging to her grand-
mother, and gathered as many of the street boys
into it as she could.

She was now twenty years old, and there was
not a busier person in Boston. She arose before
daylight. She taught her two schools. She cared
for her grandmother, who was now growing feeble.
She cared for her two young brothers whom she
had brought to Boston to support and educate.
She studied, studied until the late hours of night.

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 233

A much stronger person would have broken
down under all this labor. It was only her great
will power that kept her up, and even that
was not sufficient long. The strain was too heavy,
and she was obliged to give up her schools before
she had done a tenth part of what she had
marked out to do.

After this we hear of her in various places,
writing, serving as a governess in rich families,
still studying, and doing all that her strength
permitted. At length her mother died, and then
her grandmother. Her brothers were grown up
and doing well for themselves. There was no
longer any one dependent upon her. She had
sufficient means to support herself through life.
Most persons would have been inclined to cease
studying and working, but not so Dorothea Dix.

II. A Courageous Woman

Dorothea Dix was thirty-five years old when the
great work of her life first came into her thoughts.
She was thirty-nine when she began it.

One day by accident she overheard some men
talking about the manner in which insane people

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234 LOVERS OF MANKIND

were treated in certain prisons and almshouses.
Her interest was aroused, and she determined to
learn more of the matter. At that time there
were no great public asylums and hospitals where
people with deranged minds could be kindly cared
for and skillfully treated. There were private
institutions where rich patients were received.
But the insane poor were treated like beasts
and criminals. They were shut up in filthy jails.
They were chained and flogged. They were
denied all the comforts' of life.

Dorothea Dix determined to do something to
lighten the sorrows of these most unfortunate
people. She went to every important town in
Massachusetts to see and learn for herself. What
other woman with feelings so sensitive, so delicate,
would have ventured to investigate conditions so
touching and horrifying ? Wherever she went, the
prison doors were opened for her. The jailers
seemed in some strange way to recognize her as an
angel of mercy, having authority greater than their
own.

When she had finished her investigations, she
sent to the Massachusetts legislature an account

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 235

of what she had seen and learned. " Gentlemen,"
she said, " I call your attention to the present state
of insane persons confined within this Common-
wealth in cages, closets, cellars, stalls, pens ; chained,
naked, beaten with rods, and lashed into obedience.''

Very much of what she wrote is too horrible to
be repeated here. She told of women who were
kept in chains, of men with iron collars riveted
around their necks, of a lunatic half frozen behind
iron bars, of others who were fed like pigs in a filthy
pen. People were shocked at the story. The alms-
house keepers and the jailers said it was all a
slanderous lie. But the best men and women in
the State were convinced of its truth. The legisla-
ture passed laws' to remedy some of the greatest of
the evils and provided money for the building and
maintenance of public asylums.

Dorothea Dix knew that in other states the con-
dition of the insane was even worse than it had
been in Massachusetts. She could not rest while
such evils existed anywhere.

She went to Rhode Island. She found in Provi-
dence a small asylum, poorly managed. As had
been the case in her own state, most of the insane

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236 LOVERS OF MANKIND

people were confined in jails, and in almshouses
which were but little better. She made up her
mind that the asylum must be enlarged. But the
legislature would not give the money, and where
was it to come from ?

She called upon a noted millionaire who had
never been known to give any of his money away.
She told him the condition of things. She de-
scribed the misery, the wretchedness of the poor
beings she had visited. He listened silently. When
she had finished, he said, " Well, Miss Dix, what do
you want me to do ? "

" I want you to give fifty thousand dollars toward
the enlargement of the asylum here in Providetice."

" I will do it," was the answer.

The enlargement was made, and the asylum was
named Butler Hospital, in honor of the giver.

Having thus started the good work in the New
England states, Dorothea Dix went next to New
Jersey. She visited the prisons. She wrote edito-
rials for the leading newspapers. She sent letter
after letter to the men of influence in the state.
She petitioned the assembly to do something to
allay the misery of the unfortunate insane.

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 237

Many people called her a meddler, and even
worse than that. They wished she had stayed
at home. They didn't propose to be taxed for
crazy people, they said. But she went boldly be-
fore the lawmakers at Trenton and told them
what they must do.

" Some evenings," she wrote to a friend, " I had
at once twenty gentlemen for three hours' steady
conversation. The last evening, a rough country
member, who had announced in the House that
*the wants of the insane in New Jersey were all
humbug,' came to overwhelm me with his argu-
ments. After listening an hour and a half, with
wonderful patience, to my details, he suddenly
moved into the middle of the parlor, and thus
delivered himself : * Ma'am, I bid you good night !
I do not want, for my part, to hear anything more ;
the others can stay if they want to. / am con-
vinced. You've conquered me out and out I
shall vote for the hospital. If you'll come into
the House and talk there as you have here, no man
that isn't a brute can stand you; and so, when a
man's convinced, that's enough. The Lord bless
you!' — and thereupon he departed."

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238 LOVERS OF MANKIND

The assembly voted for the hospital. The hos-
pital was built — the largest and best in America.
And when the people saw the noble work which
was being done through the efforts of Dorothea
Dix, they called her a heaven-sent Angel of
Mercy, and the lawmakers at Trenton thanked
her in behalf of the state.

The next state to be visited was Pennsylvania,
and there the same distressing things were seen
and told, and the same grand work was performed.
Then a trip was made to the West and the South-
west, and the prisons and poorhouses in Illinois,
Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana were examined.

There were but few railroads at that time and
most of the journey was made in coaches and
wagons. The roads were muddy and rough, the
accommodations were poor and rude. Yet, in the
interests of the friendless and unfortunate who
could not speak for themselves, Dorothea Dix
traveled thus for more than ten thousand miles
and visited scenes of misery and distress which
strong men would have shuddered at and shunned.

" She went all over the country," writes a friend,
" with a moderate valise in her hand, and wearing

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 239

a plain gray traveling dress, with snow-white collar
and cuffs. Her trunk was sent a week ahead,
with the necessary changes of linen, and one
plain black silk dress for special occasions. Neat-
ness in everything indicated her well-direqted
mind."

After three years spent in the West, Dorothea
Dix went to North Carolina. All opposition
faded before her, and the good laws which she
advocated were passed by a vote of ten to one.
In Alabama she met with the same success. In
Mississippi the lawmakers declared that they would
not give a dime for the relief of the lunatics in
the state ; but after they had listened to her appeals,
they voted to give all the land that was necessary,
for the erection of a hospital, three million bricks,
and fifty thousand dollars.

"And we will name the asylum the Dix Hos-
pital," they said; but this she would not permit.

Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, Maryland, were
visited in turn; and everywhere the good work
went on. But it is no easy task to persuade men
to do justice and love mercy. Dorothea Dix met
narrow-minded people everywhere who did all they

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240 LOVERS OF MANKIND

could against her. They spoke of her unkindly,
they placed every sort of obstacle in her way. But
nothing discouraged her,

."The tonic I need," she said, "is the tonic of
opposition."

At last, after many years of toil and perplexity,
the one great work of her life seemed finished. In
every state of the Union, laws were passed provid-
ing for the better care of the unfortunates within its
limits. Instead of being confined in jails and pens,
these poor people were now housed in large and
comfortable asylums. Instead of being chained and
beaten and tortured, they were surrounded with
comforts and cared for with kindness. Instead of
being treated as criminals and beasts, they were
regarded as unfortunate human beings, deserving of
sympathy and help. And all this had been brought
about by the efforts of one woman — Dorothea
Dix.

She was not satisfied with having accomplished
so much in her own country ; there were foreign
countries in which the old barbarous conditions
still prevailed. She went to England. She visited
the workhouses and prisons where lunatics and

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 241

idiots were kept. She made a report of what she
saw there — a report so full of distressing and hor-
rifying facts that the whole nation was astonished..
The British government took up the matter, and
the Lunacy Laws of 1857 were passed, providing
for hospitals and asylums and humane care.

Miss Dix then visited the other countries of
Europe, carrying on her good work everywhere.
" I get into all the hospitals and all the prisons I
have time to see or strength to explore," she wrote.
The Pope was so much interested in her work that
he had a long talk with her and visited the asylum
in Rome in person. Even in Turkey she was re-
ceived with marked kindness, as one whose life was
devoted to the service of humanity. She went to
Russia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Germany,
spending all her time for the helpless and the
suffering.

She returned to America only a short time be-
fore the beginning of the great Civil War.

Scarcely had the first gun of the war been fired
when Dorothea Dix with a company of nurses was
at Washington, offering free service in the hospitals
and on the field of battle. The Secretary of War

GOLDEN DEEDS — 1 6

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242 LOVERS OF MANKIND

appointed her Superintendent of Nurses in the
military hospitals, and she entered upon her work
with all the courage and pluck for which she had
been noted through life.

She had thousands of helpers to superintend ;
she distributed the gifts that came for the benefit
of the sick and wounded ; she made long journeys
by land and water; she went from battlefield to
battlefield, from camp to camp, caring with her own
hands for many a dying soldier ; she took no vaca-
tions ; her whole soul was in her work. Who can
estimate the amount of misery that was relieved,
or the amount of happiness that was conferred, by
this one woman ? And she did it all, not for gain,
but for the love of humanity. She took no pay
for her services; she defrayed her expenses from
her private purse. ^

At the end of the war it was suggested that Con-
gress should give her a vote of thanks and a large
sum of money.

" I will accept nothing," she said ; " but I should
like the flag of my country."

A pair of beautiful flags were therefore made for
her, and to them was attached this inscription : —

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''AN ANGEL OF MERCY'' 243

" In token and acknowledgment of the inestimable
services rendered by Miss Dorothea L. Dix for the
Care^ Succor^ and Relief of the Sick and Wounded
Soldiers of the United States on the Battlefield^ in
Camps and Hospitals^ during the recent war^ and
of her benevolent and diligent labors and devoted
efforts to whatever might contribute to their comfort
and welfare^

These flags now hang in the Memorial Hall at
Harvard University.

After the war, Dorothea Dix went back to her
old work of looking after the unfortunate insane and
befriending the friendless. She had already been the
means of founding thirty-two asylums in this country
and in Europe. In her old age she founded two
more, these being in Japan. On a large map of the
world it was her pleasure to mark the location of
each asylum by a red cross.

Her sympathies went out to all suffering crea-
tures. Not only human beings but animals were
the objects of her love. In a crowded part of Bos-
ton she planned a drinking fountain for horses and
men ; and for it the poet Whittier wrote these
lines : —

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244 LOVERS OF MANKIND

" Stranger and traveler,

Drink freely and bestow
A kindly thought on her

Who bade this fountain flow.
Yet hath for it no claim

Save as the minister
Of blessing in God's name.

Drink, and in His peace go I "

Such a life as that of Dorothea Dix is its own
reward. How supremely grand it is when com-
pared with a life that is given to selfishness and
ease ! Her work lives after her. Its influence and
blessing will be felt for ages yet to come.

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THE SYMPATHY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN ^

During the earlier years of the Civil War, there
were many desertions from the army. Military law
when strictly enforced required that all deserters
should be shot. But President Lincoln's big heart
had pity for the young fellows, and he pardoned so
many that the army officers became alarmed.

"If a man had more than one life," he said on a
certain occasion, " I think a little shooting would
not hurt this fellow ; but after he is once dead, we
cannot bring him back, no matter how sorry we
may be. So the boy must be pardoned."

General Butler protested. " The whole army is
being demoralized. There are desertions every day."

" How can it be stopped ? " asked the President.

" By shooting every deserter," answered Butler.

" You may be right," said Mr. Lincoln, " probably
are. But, Lord help me, how can I have a butcher's
day every Friday in the Army of the Potomac ? "

Once at the very turning point of a battle, a

* Extract from "Abraham Lincoln ; a True Life."
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246 LOVERS OF MANKIND

soldier was so overcome with fear that he dropped
his gun and ran from the field. His action came
near throwing his whole company into confusion.
After the battle he was tried by court-martial and
sentenced to die.

His friends appealed to the President.

" I will put the order for execution by," he said,
" until I can settle in my mind whether this soldier
can better serve the country dead than living."

Another case was that of a gowardly fellow for
whom no one could say a good word. Not only
had he run away during the heat of battle, but it
was shown that he was a thief and untrustworthy.

" Certainly this fellow can serve his country better
dead than living," said the officer.

But Mr. Lincoln had known the boy's father, a
worthy man and patriot. He took the death
warrant and said that he thought he would put it
in the pigeonhole with the rest of his " leg cases."
" These are cases," he said in explanation, " that you
call by that long title, * Cowardice in the face of the
enemy,' but I call them, for short, my leg cases. If
Almighty God has given a man a cowardly pair of
legs, how can he help running away with them."*"

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THE SYMPATHY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 247

The President was never so taken up with the
mighty affairs of the nation as to forget the humble
needs of the common people. He was never so over-
come with his own burdens and griefs that he could
not speak words of sympathy and cheer to others who
were sorrowful and broken-hearted. There are many
examples thaj show how truly noble was his soul.

The following letter, written to a stricken mother
whom he did not know, is one of such examples: —

" Dear Madam : I have been shown in the files
of the War Department a statement that you are
the mother of five sons who have died gloriously
on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless
must be any words of mine which should attempt
to beguile you from the grief of a loss so over-
whelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to
you the consolation that may be found in the thanks
of the republic they died to save. I pray that our
heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your
bereavement, and leave you only the cherished
memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn
pride that must be yours to have laid so costly
a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

"A. Lincoln."

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THE SANITARY COMMISSION

On the 13th of April, 1861, Fort Sumter in
Charleston harbor was fired upon by the soldiers
of the South.

This was the beginning of the great struggle
known in history as the Civil War in America.

Two days before this, Abraham Lincoln called
for seventy-five thousand men to defend the govern-
ment and maintain its laws in the South.

The call was answered at once and with grieat
enthusiasm. Not only did seventy-five thousand
men offer themselves, but thousands more who
could not be accepted. Business was at a stand-
still. The plow was left in the furrow. The
factory doors were closed. The thoughts of all
men were upon the crisis which the country was
facing. In every village of the North the tap of
the drum and the shrill music of the fife were
heard.

On the very day that Lincoln issued his call,

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THE SANITARY COMMISSION 249

some women of Bridgeport, Connecticut, met to-
gether to consider what they could do.

" We cannot go to war," they said, " but our
husbands and sons can go — yes, they will go.
Shall we who remain at home be idle ? "

"There will be bloodshed," said some.

"And there will be much suffering in camp
and on the march," said others. "Men will be
wounded in battle, they will be sick from exposure,
they will need better attention than the army
surgeons alone can give them. Can we not do
something to help ? "

And so these earnest, sympathetic women of
Bridgeport organized themselves into what they
called a Soldiers' Aid Society, and resolved to do
all that they could for the relief and comfort of
the men who were at that moment hurrying
forward to answer the President's call.

" We cannot fight," they said, " but we can help
the fighters."

Miss Almena Bates, a young lady of Charlestown,
Massachusetts, did not know what the ladies of
Bridgeport were doing, but she started out that
same day to do something herself. She went with

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250 LOVERS OF MANKIND

pencil and paper to her friends and acquaintances^
and asked each one to volunteer as a helper.

"The boys are answering the President's call,"
she said. " To-morrow they will be on their way
to the front. There will be war. Nurses will be
needed on the battlefields and in the hospitals.
Medicines, food, little comforts for the sick and
wounded — all these ought to be ready at the first
need. What will you do ? "

In a few days women in every part of the North
were forming aid societies. But as yet it was hard
for them to accomplish very much. So long as
each little society was working alone, there was
no certainty that the intended help would ever
reach the right place.

At length, two months after the fall of Fort
Sumter, a great organization was formed that
would extend all over the North and would
include the aid societies. The president of this
organization was Rev. Henry W. Bellows of New
York, and many well-known men and women were
among its members.

Some people shook their heads and hung
back.

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THE SANITARY COMMISSION 251

" The government will provide for the relief
and comfort of the soldiers in the field," they
said. " What is the use of these aid societies
and this great organization?"

Even President Lincoln at first said that he
thought the association would prove to be like
a fifth wheel to a coach — very much in the
way.

But the war had now begun in terrible earnest.
In the camps and on the battlefield, the soldiers
were learning what was meant by privation and
suffering. The plans for the work of the asso-
ciation were carefully made out by Dr. Bellows
and his assistants, and were submitted to the
government. The president approved them. And
thus the United States Sanitary Commission, as
it was called, was given the authority to go
forward with its great work of caring for the
health and comfort of the soldiers.

From the aid societies and from the people
at large, help was freely sent. Fairs were held
all over the country for the purpose of raising
money. Men, women, and children joined in
working. Each town and city tried to do more

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252 LOVERS OF MANKIND

than its neighbor had done. At one fair in
Chicago more than seventy-five thousand dollars
was raised. The people of the state of New York
gave nearly a million dollars for the cause.

President Lincoln wrote : " Amongst the ex-
traordinary manifestations of this war, none has
been more remarkable than these fairs. And
their chief agents are the women of America.
I am not accustomed to the use of the language
of eulogy; but I must say, that if all that has
been said by orators and poets since the creation
of the world in praise of women were applied
to the women of America, it would not do them
justice for their conduct during this war. God
bless the women of America!"

Not only did these women form societies, hold
fairs, and give of their means for this cause,
but many of them were active in the work
itself. Women of culture and education, ac-
customed to all the comforts that wealth can
give, went to the front as nurses and as directors
of relief in the hospitals and on the battlefield.
First among these was Dorothea Dix, who, within
two 'weeks after the president's call for volunteers,

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THE SANITARY COMMISSION 253

received the public thanks of the surgeon
general and was placed in charge of all the
women nurses at the front.

Among those who likewise gave their time
and energies to this noble work were Mrs. Julia
Ward Howe, Mrs. Mary A. Livermore, Clara
Barton, Dr. Mary Walker, and many others
scarcely less distinguished. Of the golden deeds
done by these self-sacrificing women, there is no
adequate record save in the book of that angel who
writes the names of those who love mankind.

There were hundreds, also, of humble workers
who were no less earnest in their efforts to do
good. These were the nurses in the hospitals
and in the field, besides numberless others who
labored at home for the support of the Com-
mission.

The direct caring for the sick and wounded was
only a small portion of the duties performed under
the direction of the Commission. To prevent dis-
ease was one of the first objects, for disease alone
might cause the defeat, if not the destruction, of
our armies.

Hence, the managers were on the watch for what-

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254 LOVERS OF MANKIND

ever was likely to guard or improve the health of
the soldiers at the front. They saw that the food
was wholesome and that it was properly cooked.

They started truck gardens for supplying vegeta-
bles to the men. They had charge of the ice and
other luxuries for the sick. They looked after the
wounded who were sent to the rear. They collected
bedding, clothing, and all sorts of delicacies for the
use of the sick. They wrote letters for the dis-
abled, and gave them stationery, stamps, and envel-
opes. They gathered up books and newspapers for
the men to read while sick or off duty. They fur-
nished lodging for the mothers and wives who had
come to the hospital or the camp on errands of
mercy to their wounded sons or husbands. Lastly,
they helped the men who for any reason had been
discharged and lacked the means or the ability to
reach their homes.

The war continued four years.

During that time more than fifteen million dol-
lars in supplies of various kinds, besides nearly five
million dollars in money, was freely given for the
cause by the generous-hearted people of the North.
Of those who were engaged in doing the work of

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THE SANITARY COMMISSION 255

the Commission, many served without pay and
without desire of reward. Others, however, per-
formed their duties from more selfish motives —
some for the wages which they received, some for
the profits which they hoped to derive through less
honorable channels. These last deserve no com-
mendation, although they may have done some
valuable service. Their deeds were not golden.

But think of the truly golden deeds that were
done in connection with this cause. Think of the
men whose lives were saved. Think of the mothers
and wives who were made happy by the care be-
stowed upon their loved ones, enabling them finally
to return to their homes. Think of the thousands
of benefits that were performed through this one
agency. Who is there so lacking in noble impulses
as to deny that it is more heroic to save life than to
destroy it ?

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"THE TOMBS ANGEL''

Early in the morning of the 2 2d of February,
1902, a fire occurred in one of the large hotels of
New York. The flames broke out so suddenly,
and spread so swiftly, that many of the guests
were unable to escape. Among those who perished
was a woman whose life for many years had been
given to the doing of golden deeds.

Men knew this woman as the Tombs Angel.
The name was a title of honor which queens might
well covet. It was a strange epithet, but it de-
scribed in two words the work and character of her
to whom it was applied. It was in itself, as one of
her friends most aptly said, a patent of nobility.

How had she earned that title ?

By her good works.

There is in the city of New York a famous prison

known the world over as The Tombs. Massive,

gloomy, and strong, it is a place of sorrow and tears

and dread forebodings.

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''THE TOMBS ANGEL'' 257

Men and women who have been accused of crime
are confined there to await their trial by due
process of law. The most of them will go out to
suffer in the penitentiaries and workhouses the
punishment that is due for their wrongdoings. A
few may be found innocent of crime and permitted
to return to freedom, disgraced, perhaps, for life by
the fact of having been confined within prison walls.

Here many of the world's most famous criminals
have spent days and months behind the bars. Here
also have been confined hundreds of unfortunates,
men and women, whom want or evil companionship
or momentary weakness has driven into crime.
If you have never visited a prison, you cannot im-
agine the woe, the misery, the hopelessness of such
a place.

It was here that Rebecca Salome Foster labored
unselfishly and unceasingly for many years, cheering
the downhearted, comforting the distressed, and
sowing good seeds even in the hearts of the most
depraved. Her bright face, her comforting words,
her cheerful manner, carried sunshine into the
gloomiest cells, gave hope to the despairing, and
uplifted the most unfortunate.

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258 LOVERS OF MANKIND

Is it any wonder that these poor creatures gave
her the noble title of the Tombs Angel ?

" For many years, " said District Attorney Jerome,
" she came and went among us with but a single
purpose —

" * That men might rise on stepping stones
Of their dead sdves to higher things V

" There is a word which is seldom used. It
is the word * holy.' To us who are daily brought
into contact with the misfortunes and sins of hu-
manity, it seems almost a lost word. Yet in all that
that word means to English-speaking peoples, it
seems to me that it could be applied to her. She
was, indeed, a * holy woman.' "

In winter and in summer, on stormy days as well
as on fair, Mrs. Foster was always at her post of
duty. She served without the hope of reward, and
solely for the good that she could do.

Numberless were the hearts which she cheered;
numberless were the weary ones whose burdens she
lightened ; and numberless, too, were the erring men
and women whom her sweet influences brought
back to paths of virtue and right doing.

Not only was she loved by the prisoners, but she

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''THE TOMBS ANGEL'' 259

was esteemed and venerated by the keepers of the
jail and especially by the judges and officers of
the city courts. And many kind-hearted people,
hearing of her good works, lent her a helping hand.
Every year a certain charitable society placed in her
hands several thousand dollars to be expended in
her work in such ways as she thought best.

Often the money which she received from others
was not enough, and then she drew freely from her
own means, never expecting any return. To help
a poor outcast to a fresh start ia life, to give relief
to the innocent family of some convicted criminal,
to put in the way of some iftifortunate man or
woman the means of earning an honest living — to
do these and a thousand other services she was
always ready.

Many are the stories that are told of her golden
deeds. Perhaps none show more clearly her self-
sacrificing spirit than the following : —

One day a poor woman, the wretchedest of the
wretched, was brought to the prison guilty of a
crime to which her weakness and her extreme want
had driven her. She was cold, she was starving,
she was in tatters and rags.

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26o LOVERS OF MANKIND

Here surely was work for a ministering angel.

Mrs. Foster hastened to give her such im-
mediate comfort as she could. She removed the
poor wretch's bedraggled dress, and gave her her
own warm overskirt, instead.

Was there ever a nobler example of Christian
charity ?

We are reminded of Sir Philip Sidney on the
field of Zutphen and his gift to the dying soldier,
"Thy necessity is greater than mine."

And so, untiringly and without a thought of
self, the Tombs Angel went on with her work,
little thinking what men would say, dreaming
nothing of honor or fame, caring only to lighten
the burdens of the heavy-laden. Then, suddenly
and with but little warning, she was called to
pass out through fire into the kingdom prepared
for those who love their Lord.

Who would not sorrow for such a woman ?

Even the officers whose duty it was to prosecute
the prisoners in the Tombs wept when her death
was announced. The eyes of the judges were
filled with tears. The city courts adjourned for
the day in honor of the memory of the Tombs

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''THE TOMBS ANGEL'' 261

Angel. And on the following Sunday, in more
than one church, a well-known parable was read
with a meaning that was new and strangely forcible
to those who listened: —

" Then shall the King say unto them on his
right hand, * Come, ye blessed of my Father, in-
herit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world. For I was an hungered,
and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty, and ye gave
me drink. I was a stranger, and ye took me in ;
naked, and ye clothed me. I was sick and ye
visited me. I was in prison, and ye came unto
me.'

" Then shall the righteous answer him, saying,
^ Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed
thecf^ or thirsty, and gave thee drink.? When
saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or
naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee
sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?'

" And the King shall answer and say unto
them, * Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me ? ' "

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THE RED CROSS

I. CLARA BARTON

In 1 86 1, when the Civil War began, there was
a clerk in the Patent Office at Washington whose
name was Clara Barton.

She was then about thirty years of age, well
educated, refined in manner, intensely energetic.
She had been in the Patent Office seven years.
Previous to that time she had been a school-
teacher. Stories are still current of her wonderful
success in school management.

Those were the days when the public schools

were but little esteemed, and methods of education

were not such as we have now. It is said that

when Miss Barton assumed charge of a certain

school in New Jersey there were but six pupils in

attendance; but such was her genius and such

the magnetism of her presence that the number

increased within a few months to nearly six hundred.

One might think that such success would have

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THE RED CROSS 263

made her a school-teacher for life. But this was
not her destiny.

The war began.

Clara Barton read President Lincoln's procla-
mation calling for seventy-five thousand volunteers
to fight for the preservation of the Union.

She gave up her position in the Patent Office,
and volunteered — volunteered as a nurse without
pay in the Army of the Potomac. Her work was
not in safe and quiet hospitals far from the sound
of danger; it was on the battlefield rescuing and
nursing the wounded while yet the carnage and
the strife were there.

It surely required a brave heart to pass through
the horrors that .followed the struggles at Pitts-
burg Landing, at Cedar Mountain, at Antietam,
and at old Fredericksburg. Very heroic must
have been the women who faced those dreadful
scenes with only the one thought to give relief to
the wounded and the dying.

Toward the close of the war, Clara Barton was
appointed " lady in charge " of all the hospitals at
the front of the Army of the James — a worthy
and well-earned promotion.

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264 LOVERS OF MANKIND

Then there came inquiries concerning soldiers
whose whereabouts were unknown. Their friends
wrote to ask about them. Were they living or
dead.J^ If alive, where were they? If dead, when
and how did they die? There were thousands of
such inquiries, and no one could answer them.

It occurred to President Lincoln to appoint some
competent person to conduct a search for all such
missing men, to learn their history, if possible, and
to place that history on record.

Who was more competent for such a duty than
Clara Barton?

At the request of President Lincoln, then very
near the end of his career, she undertook the
task. With all her great energy and her habits
of thoroughness, she carried it through. It was
a work of months, taxing all her strength, and
requiring the closest application. In the end she
was able to report the names and the fate of more
than thirty thousand missing men of the Union
armies.

Is there any wonder that her health was broken ?
The years of constant labor, the weight of great
responsibilities, had told sadly upon her strength.

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THE RED CROSS 265

When her work was finished, then came the re-
action. For days and weeks she was obliged to
refrain from every sort of labor. She went to
Europe. She spent the next few years in Switzer-
land, trying to regain her lost strength.

II. ORGANIZATION OF THE RED CROSS

It was on a midsummer day in 1859 that a
great battle was fought at Solferino in the north
of Italy. There the Austrian army was defeated
by the combined forces of France and Sardinia.
At the end of the bloody struggle more than thirty-
five thousand men lay dead or disabled on the
field of battle. There was no adequate aid at
hand for the suffering and the dying. For hours
and even days they lay uncared for where they
had fallen. It was the old, old story of the bar-
baric cruelty of war.

While the battlefield was still reeking with hor-
rors it was visited by Henri Dunant, a gentleman
of means from Switzerland. His heart was touched
at the sight of the suffering that was around him.
He gave every assistance that he could; he aided
the few surgeons who were on the field, and was

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266 LOVERS OF MANKIND

instrumental in saving many a wounded man from
death.

When he returned home, he could not forget
what he had seen. A vision of the battlefield
was ever in his mind. He could not rest until
he had written the story of the field of Solferino,
and had tried to make others understand the
horrors which he had witnessed. He delivered
lectures and issued circulars, calling upon the
good people of all nations to unite in forming a
world's society for the care of disabled soldiers
on the field of battle.

The work of Henri Dunant led to great results.
A world's society was formed. A conference was
held at Geneva. Eleven nations agreed to a
plan which recognized this society and its work.
Its members, its helpers, its hospitals, and the
sick and wounded under its care should be free
from molestation on the battlefield; and each of
the eleven governments pledged its active aid
and support.

In order that the workers of the society should
be known when in posts of danger, and in order
that its hospitals and all their belongings should

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THE RED CROSS 267

be protected, it was found necessary to adopt a
badge that should be universally known. The
badge chosen was a red cross on white ground.
It was adopted in compliment to the Swiss gov-
ernment, whose flag is a white cross on red
ground.

Thus it was that upon " the wild stock and
stem of war '' a noble philanthropy was engrafted.
Thus it was that the movement was inaugurated
which " gives hope," says Clara Barton, " that the
very torrent, tempest, and whirlwind of war it-
self may some day at last (far off, perhaps) give
way to the sunny and pleasant days of perpetual
and universal peace."

It was while seeking health in Switzerland that
Miss Barton first became fully acquainted with
the objects and the work of the Red Cross. She
met and formed friendships with the leaders of
that movement She resolved to give her energies
and her life to its support.

III. MISS BARTON IN FRANCE

At the beginning of the Franco-Prussian War
in 1870, Clara Barton was still in Europe. She

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268 LOVERS OF MANKIND

at once threw herself into the work of the Red
Cross in the camps and on the battlefields of that
war. Her long experience as a nurse with our own
armies gave her a grea^ advantage in the man-
agement of hospitals and the care of the sick.
During the course of that short but bitter struggle,
no person did more good than she, no person
deserved or won nobler laurels of praise.

After the siege of Strasburg twenty thousand
people were without homes ; they were without
employment; starvation was before them. Clara
Barton saw the situation and was the first to act
She provided materials for thirty thousand gar-
ments, and parceled these out among the poor
women of the city to be sewed and made at good
wages. Everywhere her quick eye saw what was
needed most, and her quick intelligence showed
what was best to be done. Everywhere officers
and civilians, the rich and the poor, acknowledged
her good work and lent a helping hand.

In Paris after the close of the war the lawless
Commune seized the power. The city was in the
hands of men of the lowest character. It was be-
sieged by the army of the republic. The thunder of

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[a69] "Clara Barton entered the city on foot."

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270 LOVERS OF MANKIND

the cannon was heard day and night There was
constant fighting on the streets. Scores of innocent
people were shot down or put to death. In some
parts of the city not one person was to be found in
his home, so great was the terror and so general
the destruction. In the midst of all these horrors,
Clara Barton entered the city oh foot and began her
work of ministering to those in distress.

Among the common people there was but little
food. Women and children were starving. On a
certain day a great mob surged through the streets
crying for bread. The officers were powerless.
There was no telling what such a mob would do.
Clara Barton stood at the door of her lodgings ; she
raised her hand and spoke to the infuriated men
and the despairing women. They paused and
listened to her calm and hopeful words. " Oh,
mon Dieu ! " they cried. " It is an angel that
speaks to us." And they quietly dispersed to their
homes.

" What France must have been without the
merciful help of the Red Cross societies, the im-
agination dare not picture. At the end of the war
ten thousand wounded men were removed from

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THE RED CROSS 271

Paris under the auspices of the relief societies —
men who otherwise must have lingered in agony
or died from want of care ; and there were brought
back to French soil nine thousand men who had
been cared for in German hospitals."

In recognition of the golden deeds which she had
performed in this war, Clara Barton received as
decorations of honor the golden cross of Baden and
the iron cross of Germany.

IV. THE AMERICAN ASSOCIATION

As yet there was no Red Cross society in
America. It therefore became the work of Miss
Barton for the next few years to found such a
society. It was not until 1882 that the United
States joined the family of nations which at Geneva,
eighteen years before, had pledged -their support to
this movement in behalf of civilized humanity.

The plan for an American society included much
more than merely the relief of wounded soldiers.
Miss Barton's experiences in Strasburg and in Paris
had shown the need and the possibility of wider
usefulness. And so the work of the Red Cross
Association of America was to relieve suffering

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272

LOVERS OF MANKIND

wherever it was found, and especially during great
calamities, such as famine, pestilence, earthquake
disaster, flood, or fire.

Before a month had passed the first call for help
was sounded. A great fire was sweeping through
the forests of Michigan. For many days it raged
unchecked. Homes were destroyed, farms were
burned over, every living thing was swept away by
the devastating flames, thousands of people were in
dire need of food, clothing, and shelter.

The Red Cross Association was little prepared to
meet so great a calamity, but under the direction
of its president, Clara Barton, it began at once to do
what it could. The white banner with its red cross
was unfurled here for the first time. The call for
aid was quickly responded to. Men, women, and
children hastened to bring their gifts of sympathy
and human kindness to be distributed by the
society. Eighty thousand dollars in money, food,
clothing, and other needful things were forwarded
to the suffering people of Michigan.

After that there were calls for help almost every
year. There were great floods along the Ohio and
Mississippi rivers. Charleston, South Carolina, was

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THE RED CROSS 273

partly destroyed by an earthquake. There were fear-
ful cyclones in the West, causing much destruction
of life and property. Wherever there was suffering
from any of these causes, Clara Barton with the
Red Cross was present to give relief and assistance.

In 1885 and 1886 there was a great drought in
Texas. For eighteen months no rain fell. No
crops could be raised. Hundreds of thousands of
cattle died for lack of forage and water. Thousands
of people were in want of the comforts of life.
Through the labors of the Red Cross Association and
its president, more than a hundred thousand dollars
were contributed for the relief of the distressed.

On the 30th of May, 1889, the city of Johns-
town, Pennsylvania, was overwhelmed by a flood
caused by the breaking of a dam in the Little Con-
emaugh River. Nearly five thousand lives were
lost, and property to the value of twelve million
dollars was destroyed. Scarcely had the first news
of the disaster been telegraphed over the country
before Clara Barton was on the ground doing the
good work. of the Red Cross. For five months she
remained there amid scenes of desolation, poverty,
and woe, which no pen can describe.

GOLDEN DEEDS — iS

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274 LOVERS OF MANKIND

She fed the hungry, sheltered the homeless, com-
forted the sorrowing, was a ministering angel to the
sick, the impoverished, and the despairing. "The
first to come, the last to go," said one of the news-
papers of Johnstown, " she has indeed been an elder
sister to us — nursing, soothing, tending, caring for
the stricken ones through a season of distress such
as no other people ever knew — such as, God grant,
no other people may ever know. The idea crystal-
lized, put into practice : * Do unto others as you
would have others do unto you.' "

In 1893 occurred the great hurricane in the
Sea Islands off the coast of South Carolina. It was
a calamity second only to that of Johnstown, and
the number of persons who perished will never be
known. There, among black people of the poorest
and most ignorant class, Miss Barton labored un-
ceasingly for months. She distributed weekly ra-
tions of food to thirty thousand Sea Islanders. She
gave them materials for clothing and taught them
how to make these into garments. She encour-
aged them in the rebuilding of their homes. She
directed the digging of more than two hundred
miles of ditches, thus reclaiming thousands of acres

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THE RED CROSS ^;S

of land. She distributed garden seeds to every
householder on the islands, besides seed com and
grain to the farmers. Within nine months, under
the supervision of the Red Cross, industry and
prosperity were restored and the poor blacks were
enabled to become self-supporting and independent.
Is it any wonder that they revered the name of the
woman who brought them so much comfort and
happiness, and that to this day they name their girls
"Clara Barton" and their boys " Red Cross "?

The work of the Red Cross was transferred to
other places and other peoples. In Armenia after
the Turkish massacres, in Cuba during the Spanish
War, in every place cursed by war or afflicted with
some great calamity, there was found the Red Cross,
doing its noble work.

V. THE NATIONAL RED CROSS

As yet the American Association of the Red Cross
had but few members and its work was much hampered
through the lack of funds and systematic management.
In 1893 it was reorganized as the American Na-
tional Red Cross, but not until twelve years later did
its membership exceed three hundred persons.

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2/6 LOVERS OF MANKIND

When the war with Spain began, a number of
helping Red Cross societies sprang into existence,
each to some extent independent of the national
association. This division of management led to
much confusion, which resulted in a large amount of
unnecessary suffering among the sick and wounded.
It frequently happened that in one place there
was an over-abundance of supplies, while in another
there were none at all. Too many articles of one
kind were provided, and too few or perhaps none of
another. Nevertheless, despite all these unfortunate
circumstances, the Red Cross was instrumental in
saving many lives and in relieving much suffering.

"And yet, with proper management, it might
have done a great deal more," said many thinking
people.

Therefore, in 1900, the society was incorporated
by Act of Congress and placed under the super-
vision of the government. From that time forward
it was to be controlled by a central committee com-
posed of eighteen members, six of whom were to be
appointed by the President. The association is now
required to report to the War Department on the
first day of each year, giving a full account of all its

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THE RED CROSS 277

work. A new charter was granted to it in 1905,
and the Secretary of War, William H. Taft, was
elected president of the association.

Since its reorganization the work of the Red
Cross has been much extended and its efficiency
very greatly increased. For the sufferers in the
Japanese famine, it contributed nearly a quarter of
a million dollars. For those rendered homeless by
the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 1905, it gave
over twelve thousand dollars. For those who suf-
fered in the great earthquake in California in 1906,
it collected and distributed more than three million
dollars. Substantial aid was also sent to Chili for
those made destitute by the earthquake at Valparaiso,
and to China and Russia for the relief of sufferers
from the great famines in those countries.

And thus the work of this noble association,
founded through the efforts of one heroic woman,
continues. Wherever there is great distress or
widespread suffering, wherever there is famine, or
earthquake, or war, there the National Red Cross,
like an angel of mercy, stands ready to relieve, assist,
and bless. Perhaps no other organization has ever
done so much for the relief of suffering humanity.

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THE LITTLE MOTHER

They call her the Little Mother — this woman
of whom I am telling you. Why they gave her
that name will appear as my story proceeds.

The Little Mother devotes much of her time
to the doing of golden deeds among those who are
commonly supposed to be undeserving of kindness.

She is the friend of wrongdoers, although not
of wrongdoing.

You ask how this can be? I will tell you.

In the state prisons of our country, like that
of Sing-Sing in New York, there are many men
who are undergoing punishment for crimes com-
mitted against their fellow-men.

Some of these are hardened criminals without
friendships and without friends — men whose lives
have been given to wrongdoing.

Some are men who were once respectable and

are now suffering punishment for, perhaps, their

first offenses against the laws.

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THE LITTLE MOTHER 279

Some have wives and children, mothers, sisters,
or other loved ones struggling in poverty and dis-
grace, and with many misgivings hoping darkly for
the day of their release.

The most of these men will sooner or later have
served out their terms of punishment. They will
be given their freedom. They will go out again
into the warm sunlight and the wholesome air and
the fellowship of their kind.

What will they do then?

Has their punishment made better men of them ?

Too often it has not. Too often it has only
filled their minds with an ever increasing bitter-
ness towards all the rest of mankind. Too often
it has shut the door of hope, and closed the hearts
of these men to every kindly influence. Too often
it has made them worse instead of better.

And what of the few who go out earnestly wish-
ing to live honest lives and do right?

Do good men offer them a helping hand? Do
friends encourage them ? Or are they not shunned,
mistrusted, shut out from every worthy endeavor?

Can we wonder, therefore, that only a small
number of men who have once been in prison

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28o LOVERS OF MANKIND

ever become good citizens again ? Can we wonder
that so many are never reformed but return at once
to their evil practices ?

A hundred and fifty years ago, John Howard,
a great and good Englishman, devoted his life to
the befriending of prisoners and the improvement
of prisons in Europe. A hundred years ago, Eliz-
abeth Fry, a sweet-faced Quakeress, visited the
jails of Great Britain and wrought many a golden
deed in behalf of the wretched men who were
confined in them.

All prisons the world over are to-day far less
horrible than they were in the days of John
Howard and Elizabeth Fry.

But the problem of what shall become of the
criminal after he has suffered his punishment is
perhaps greater now than it ever was before.

It IS the problem which came into the mind of
the Little Mother one Sunday morning when for
the first time she saw the inside of a state prison.

It was in the penitentiary at San Quentin, Cali-
fornia. The prisoners were in the chapel. Their
faces, "plainly bearing the marring imprint of

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THE LITTLE MOTHER 281

sorrow and sin," were turned toward her. They
were impatiently waiting for such words as she
might speak to them, yet hoping for no comfort.

It was the first time that she had seen the
prison stripes. It was the first time that she had
heard the iron gates; the first time that she had
realized the hopelessness of the prisoner's life.

From that day she was resolved to be the
friend of the friendless, yes, the friend of even those
who have forfeited the right to friendship.

"The touch of human sympathy — that is what
every man needs in order to bring out the best
that is in him. No man was ever so hopelessly
bad that there was not somewhere in his mind or
heart some little spark of goodness that might be
touched by true sympathy truly expressed."

So argued the Little Mother. She therefore
organized a prison league or society for mutual
help, and she invited prisoners everywhere to be-
come members of it.

Each member of the league promised to do a
few simple things faithfully, as God gave him
strength: —

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282 LOVERS OF MANKIND

To pray every morning and night.

To refrain from bad language.

To obey the prison rules cheerfully and try to
be an example of good conduct.

To cheer and encourage others in welldoing
and right living.

Then he was given a little badge to wear on
his coat — a white button bearing the motto of
the league: Look Up and Hope. And as soon
as the league in any prison numbered several
members they were given a little white flag to
float above them as they sat in the chapel on Sun-
day mornings.

All this was very simple. It did not seem to
be much, and yet it worked wonders.

It united the men in a bond of brotherhood.
It gave them a definite and noble object to strive
for. Above all, it told them that they had one
friend who was earnestly striving to do them good.

And they united in lovingly calling that one
friend their Little Mother.

They talked with her about their aims and hopes.
They were like children going to their mother for
counsel and encouragement

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THE LITTLE MOTHER 283

And they wrote her letters such as this : —

^^ Little Mother: As I entered the chapel Sunday
and looked at our white flag^ I thought again of
the promises I had made^ of all they ought to mean,
and I promised God that with his help I would
never disgrace it. No one shall see anything in m.y
life that will bring dishonor or stain to its white-
ness^

The field of the Little Mother's work widened.
From the great prisons in all parts of the country
came the call. Would she not visit and talk with
the prisoners ? Would she not organize a prison
league among them?

It was surprising how many of them really and
earnestly wished to be better men. The touch of
human sympathy — that was what was needed.

And so the Little Mother s golden deeds multi-
plied. She became known as the prisoners' friend,
and hundreds of prisoners vowed to be faithful to
her.

Men served their terms of punishment and went
home, changed in heart and in purpose. They
might meet with scorn, with cruel rebuffs,

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284 LOVERS OF MANKIND

with cold neglect. But the Little Mother had
taught them how to be brave ; she would help them
to be strong. Every member of the league learned
to look up to her; and his conduct after gaining his
freedom was made her personal care.

Then through the aid of benevolent men, of
prison officers, and of the prisoners themselves, she
founded homes in which those who were newly-
liberated could find shelter until they were able to
support themselves by honest labor.

Thus they were prevented from falling into the
snares of former evil associates. They were en-
couraged to persevere in their efforts to attain to a
nobler manhood.

These sheltering homes were called Hope Halls.
To many a man who otherwise would have de-
spaired and returned to a life of crime, they were
the means of salvation.

Thus the Little Mother's golden deeds have
produced golden fruit, and hundreds of men have
been reclaimed to good citizenship; hundreds of
families have been made happy that otherwise
would have remained in wretchedness; and the
world has been shown that the work of punishment

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THE LITTLE MOTHER 285

is most efficient when tempered by the touch of
human sympathy.

And now shall I tell you the name of this Little
Mother? Her narne is Maud Ballington Booth.
Shall we not say that it is worthy to be placed in
the same honor roll with those of Clara Barton,
Dorothea Dix, Peter Cooper, and other lovers of
humanity ?

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PART THIRD
THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

287

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" Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay
down his life for his friends/'

288

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THE HERO FUND
COMMISSION

THE OBJECT OF THE COMMISSION

There are heroes in every walk of life. Every
day sees the performance of some golden deed; but
too often the doers of such deeds remain unknown,
and their unselfish acts of heroism are suffered to be
forgotten. Should not some means be devised by
which these heroes of peace may be duly recognized,
and those who are dependent upon them properly
provided for?

Such were the thoughts which actuated Andrew

GOLDEN DEEDS — I9 289

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290 THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

Carnegie when, on the fifteenth of April, 1904, he
established and endowed the Hero Fund Commis-
sion. Mr. Carnegie's gift of five million dollars was
placed in the hands of a commission of twenty-one
persons, whose duty it is "to discover and reward
true heroism wherever it occurs"; but the doing of
daring deeds for the purpose of saving life is to
be especially recognized. Medals of bronze, silver,
and gold were devised to be awarded to all who are
deemed worthy; and for the doers of very notable
and unselfish acts additional rewards are given. In
case of death, those dependent upon the hero are to
be duly provided for.

About two years after the establishment of this
commission, a report was made. In this report the
names were given of sixty-three persons, men and
women, boys and girls, whose heroism was deserving
of reward and recognition. Any book of Golden
Deeds would be incomplete without repeating a
few of the stories of unselfish daring which were
thus made public. The half-dozen examples which
are presented in the following pages are fairly typical
of the numerous acts of heroism which were brought
to the notice of the commissioners.

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THE YOUNGEST OF THE HEROES

Willie Stillwell is only thirteen years old, and
he lives in Bellaire, Michigan. One day he was
playing with other children on the banks of the
little river which flows by his home.

Suddenly there was a cry of alarm. Ruth School-
craft, who was a head taller than Willie, had become
too venturesome, and had fallen into the water.
The strong current bore her quickly from the shore ;
but Willie Stillwell, without stopping to think,
leaped bravely to the rescue. Many of the boys
were stronger swimmers than he, but there were few
who equaled him in courage and determination.
He knew that unless he was very careful the strug-
gling girl would carry him down with her. So he
approached her warily, and seizing her by the hair,
held her face above the water. Then, with his other
hand, he swam safely to the shore bringing the half-
drowned girl with him.

When the commissioners heard of Willie Still-
well's brave deed, they sent him a bronze medal.
They also set aside two thousand dollars to pro-
vide for giving him a course in electric engineer-
ing at college.

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A RACE TO DEATH

Near the Monongahela River there lived two
young men, Howard McCamey and James Gilmer.
They had worked together on a towboat which plied
up and down the river, and they were firm, devoted
friends. It was spring, and there was a great
freshet in the river. The towboat was not running,
but McCarney was at work alone on a heavy barge
which was moored to the shore. The flood in-
creased in height every minute. The water rushed
down with fearful momentum. The ropes which
held the old barge to the shore were stretched to
their utmost tension.

Suddenly there was a snapping, crashing sound ;
and McCamey, looking up from his work, saw that
the barge had been torn from its moorings and was
being carried rapidly down the stream. He could
not swim. He was already far from the shore. He
could only shout for help.

His friend Gilmer, who was not far away, heard
the shout. He ran down to the shore, only to see
the barge in midstream, and McCarney standing on
the deck and wildly calling for aid. A mile below
them the river was spanned by a great dam, and

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A RACE TO DEATH 293

there would be no help for McCarney after the
barge passed over it.

A small rowboat was tied to the shore. Gilmer
leaped into it and pushed out into the stream. He
was a good oarsman, but the barge had a long start
of him. He hoped, however, that he might overtake
it at some distance above the dam ; then McCarney
would jump into it and both would row to the
shore.

The heavy barge was now m the main current,
and going swiftly. The swirling eddies caught the
light rowboat and carried it out of its course. The
race was a losing one, but Gilmer kept bravely on,
hoping to the last. The great dam was just ahead.
Its roar grew louder and more appalling every mo-
ment. Gilmer was still far behind the barge ; look-
ing anxiously over his shoulder, he saw that his
friend was surely lost ; the sight so unnerved him
that he lost control of his boat.

In another minute the barge was in the rapids —
then, with a thunderous sound it went over the dam
and was lost to sight in the deep water below. Gil-
mer, in his great horror and anxiety for his friend, for-
got his own danger. Before he could gain control

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294 THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

over his boat, it, too, was swept into the rapids. Men
watching from the shore saw Gilmer leap into the
boiling flood. A moment later they saw his body
hurled over the dam. With that of his friend it was
borne far down the raging stream.

What could the commission do to commemorate
such heroism ? They could not reward the hero ;
but they gave his father a bronze medal and two
hundred dollars as a memorial of his self-sacrificing
act

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THE DYNAMITE HERO

Richard Owens and Richard Hughes were two
workmen whose homes were at Bangor, Pennsylva-
nia. One day they were blasting rocks in an exca-
vation, when an accident occurred which made one
of them a hero. Owens had just lighted a fuse to
set off a charge of giant powder. He/ had risen to
run out of danger, when another, but smaller charge,
which was closer to him, exploded. His eyes were
blinded, and his clothes were set on fire. He
starfed to run, but could not find his way out of
the excavation.

Richard Hughes, who was already in a place of
safety, saw his companion's peril. He knew that in
another moment the spark of the fuse would reach
the second charge. He saw Owens groping within
a few feet of that charge, and knew that if he re-
mained there he would be blown to atoms.

Hughes was not the man to hestitate in the face

of danger. He dashed out of cover and ran swiftly

back. He caught his blinded friend just as he was

about to stumble into a deep pit. He seized him

in his arms and carried him right over the place

where the powder blast was about to be exploded.

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He scrambled out of the excavation, dragging
Owens up behind him. But he was a moment to(;
late. Before they could reach a place of safety there
was a blinding flash, a thunderous roar, and the air
was filled with flying rocks. Both men fell to the
ground, stunned and almost senseless.

A few minutes later, however, Hughes dragged
himself out into the open air .and shouted for help.
Men ran to his assistance, and found that both he
and Owens were much burned and badly though not
dangerously hurt.

** You saved my life," said Owens.

•* Oh, don't speak of that," said Hughes. " What
are we here for, if not to help each other ? "

From that day Hughes was known among his
friends as the " dynamite hero." The commission
gave him a silver medal and two hundred and fifty
dollars for his bravery.

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A RARE ACT OF COURAGE

Lucy Ernst, of Philadelphia, was spending her
summer vacation in the mountains. One warm
afternoon she went out with her cousin, Harry
Schoenut, for a ramble in the woods. The two
strolled slowly up and down the mountain side and
came at length to a narrow ridge on one side of
which was a deep, rocky ravine. Here it was hard
walking, and they picked their way slowly and with
difficulty from one ledge to another.

They came presently to a rift in the rocks, and
Harry, in jumping across, slipped and fell upon a
pile of loose stones. The fall itself did not hurt
him, but he heard a whirr and a rattle beneath him,
and before he could rise, a large rattlesnake struck
its fangs into his arm.

" Oh, I am killed, Lucy ! " cried the frightened
boy, as the reptile darted swiftly away.

" Have courage, Harry," said Lucy, as she pulled
him up out of the rift.

"Yes, I am killed, Lucy. Leave me and save
yourself," said the boy.

His arm was already beginning to swell and turn

black. But Lucy did not hesitate a moment. She

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tore the sleeve from his arm ; she put her lips to the
wound and began to suck out the poison. She did
this with great danger to herself ; for there was a
small cut on her upper lip, and if the poison entered
it she would be in as bad a plight as Harry.

" Now, Harry, cheer up," she said ; and with her
penknife she cut a gash in his arm to make the
blood flow faster, and thus carry off the poison.
The boy fainted at sight of the blood; and then
Lucy had to revive him by beating him in the face.

" Come, Harry," she said, " let us hurry home."

" It's no use, Lucy. I'm as good as dead, and I
can't walk. Go and leave me," he murmured.

But the brave girl would not leave him. She
lifted him to his feet and then, half carrying him,
started down the mountain side. An hour later she
reached a clubhouse, a mile away from the scene of
the accident. She carried the boy up the clubhouse
steps, her dress red with blood from the wound in
his arm. Then she fainted, and fell beside him.

Help was at hand. A surgeon was quickly called.
The boy's life was saved.

A silver medal was given to Miss Ernst as a me-
morial of her heroism.

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SAVING ONE'S ENEMY

In a small town in Kentucky there lived two men
who were bitter enemies. One of them, whose
name was Rufus Combs, was a blacksmith. The
other was a prominent lawyer named Richard God-
son. Both were politicians ; they had been rivals in
many a hard contest, and they hated each other
most intensely. They would not speak to each
other on the street; they would not both enter or
remain in the same room ; each went armed to
defend himself from the other. Nobody knew the
first cause of their unfriendliness; and no one re-
membered when it had begun.

Mr. Godson had, somewhere on his premises, a
vault in which was a gas-making machine. He
suspected that there was a leak in the machine,
and one day he entered the vault in order to find it.
There was indeed a leak, and the vault itself was
filled with the escaping gas. Before Mr. Godson
could climb out into the open air he was overcome,
and fell back senseless upon the floor of the vault.

He lay there for some time before he was discov-
ered. Then an alarm was given, and a number of

the villagers hurried to the place. The entrance to

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300 THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

the vault was by a small hole cut in the roof; and
Mr. Godson's friends, looking down, could see him
lying helpless upon the floor.

They knew that the vault was full of gas, and that
no one could enter it except at the risk of his life.
So they hesitated, and began to talk of plans to
reach Mr. Godson without taking any risks upon
themselves. One suggested one thing, one another ;
but nothing was done, and the man below was grow-
ing weaker every moment.

The blacksmith, Mr. Combs, was at home. He
had lately met with an accident and was scarcely able
to leave the house. He heard the confusion on the
street. He saw men running towards Mr. Godson's;
he saw the anxiety in their faces.

" What is the matter } " he asked of one who was
passing.

The man told him briefly.

" Give me my hat," he said. " I must go over to
Dick Godson's."

As he went along the street, men nudged each
other, and one said, " I reckon he doesn't care much
what happens to Godson."

He pushed his way through the crowd that was

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SAVING ONE'S ENEMY 301

gathered about the vault and looked down the nar-
row opening at the prostrate form of his enemy.
He did not hesitate a moment. He lowered him-
self through the opening and seized the unconscious
man around the waist. Three times he lifted him up
until the hands of the friends outside could almost
reach him. Twice his strength failed him, and Mr.
Godson fell back upon the floor. But the third time
the helpers above were more prompt. They grasped
the collar of the stricken man and held on; they
drew him up into the open air ; they gave him re-
storatives, and soon saw that he was beginning to
recover.

Then some one remembered that Mr. Combs was
still in the vault. He was so nearly overcome by
the gas that he could not climb out unaided. Help-
ing hands were reached down, and he was drawn
out, as limp and unconscious as his enemy, whom
he had saved.

When at length he recovered from his swoon, he
looked around anxiously and asked, " How's Dick
Godson.?"

They told him that Godson was alive and doing
well. " Then, thank Heaven," was his response.

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302 THE HERO FUND COMMISSION

A few days afterward, some curious neighbor said
to him, " Mr. Combs, why was it that you risked
your life to save your bitterest enemy ? "

" Well, it was this way," he answered. " Dick
Godson is a good hater and a strong man, and I
couldn't bear to see him die like a rat in a hole.
And I reckon, now, that he and I will be. as good
friends hereafter as we have been bitter enemies
heretofore."

The commissioners of the Hero Fund adjudged
this to be an extraordinary example of unselfish
heroism, and they awarded to Mr. Combs not only
a silver medal, but fifteen hundred dollars in cash.

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A SCHOOLGIRL'S HEROISM

On a summer day, in 1904, Miss Maude Titus, a
pupil in the Newark (N.J.) high school, was taking
a sail with some friends in Casco Bay. The boat
was going very swiftly, and in the sudden lurch
caused by changing its course, the captain and his
daughter. Miss Titus, and another young girl, fell
overboard.

A life buoy was thrown out, and by clinging
to this the captain and his daughter were rescued ;
but Miss Titus and her friend, whose name was
Miss Reifsnyder, were left to struggle in the water
alone. Both could swim a little, under favorable
circumstances, but in her great and sudden fright.
Miss Reifsnyder was helpless.

Miss Titus might have saved herself by striking
out for the boat, but she would not leave her friend.
With the utmost coolness and self-possession she
kept herself afloat, and at the same time held Miss
Reifsnyder's head above the water, until the boat
had been safely brought around and both were res-
cued.

Miss Titus's act of heroism has not often been
equaled by a schoolgirl, and the commissioners of

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304 ^^E HERO FUND COMMISSION

the Hero Fund rewarded her quite liberally. They
gave her a silver medal, and set aside one thousand
dollars to aid her in completing her education.

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TMs book should be returned to

the Library on or before the last date
stamped below,

A fine of five cents a day ia incurred
by retaining it beyond the specifled
time.

Please return promptly.

^psr.

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