Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 184, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 August 1913 — OUR BOYS and GIRLS [ARTICLE]

OUR BOYS and GIRLS

A Game of Hide-and-Seek. By CLARA L. JOHNSON. “Where is Leßoy?" asked Mra. Hunter. “I want him to run over to his grandfather’s a minute.” “I don’t know where he is,” answered little James. “Why, hasn’t he been playing out there with you all?” “He is not here, Mrs. Hunter.” “Where is he, then? Frank, do you know where Leßoy is?” “I haven’t see him.” “Haven’t seen him! Why, he was out in the yard right after dinner.” “He was, but he went to hide, and we couldn’t find him.” "Couldn’t find him!” "We couldn’t find him, and so we stopped playing hide-and-seek, and went to playing base.” “Sammy, have you seen anything of Leßoy?” “Not since he went to hide, Mrs. Hunter.” “Where can he be? He never goes eff without asking me. Leßoy! LeRoy!” called his mother; but there was no answer. "Jamie,” run down to your grandpa's and see if he Is there. Sammy, please go down to the mill, •and, Frank, run over to your Uncle Daniel’s. Where can the hoy be?” Mrs. Hunter, as the three boys ran away, called again, “Leßoy! Leßoy!” There was no answer. She ran from room to room. When she had looked twice in each closet, under every bed and under the house, her messengers had returned. “Grandma says he hasn’t been there.”

"He hasn’t been to Uncle Daniel's." "He isn’t at the mill." Mrs. Hunter was thoroughly alarmed. She hastened to look in the well for the fifth time, calling as she went, “Frank, go tell -your father Leßoy can’t he found.” Mr. Hunter stopped the mill and put the hands to searching for the lost hoy. Neighbors who happened to be hauling lumber or eotton Joined in the search. The news spread that LeRoy Hunter could net be found. Men, women and children were running in every direction and shouting the name of the lost boy. He wsb not In the barn, nor the stables, nor the bug-gy-house. There was no trace of him In the fields nor woods. The water was all drawn out of the well, hut Lewas not at the bottom. His mother had stopped hunting him, and stood in the door, wringing her hands. The sun had almost set, and Mr. Hunter had raised the gates to run down the mill-pond. “I believe 1 will ring the bell," said little James. “Maybe somebody who knows where Leßoy Is will come.” He grasped the bellrope, and the big farm bell slowly turned from side to side, sending forth its summons for news of the lost boy. "Stop ringing and let me get down!" called a voice.—Youth’s Companion.