Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 January 1875 — Two Missouri Boys Found After an Absence of Five Years. [ARTICLE]

Two Missouri Boys Found After an Absence of Five Years.

It? will be remembered by many that five years ago the 12th day of next June —one Sunday afternoon—Henry Green, better known as Henry Wilkerson, a boy of fourteen years, who had been adopted by Ralph Wilkerson, and little Frank Wardell, aged eleven years, son of William Wardell, who resides about a mile and a half southeast of this place, received permission from Mrs, Wardell to go into the woods; from whence they were to go after the cows. The cows came up at the usual time but the boys did not return and from that time until last Saturday evening not the least trace of them could ever be found although nearly everyone in the vicinity turned out and a most thorough .search was made in all directions, the woods being scoured and the streams closely exajnined. Mr. Wardell also searched through Illinois and Canada, where he had formerly lived, but could find no trace of them whatever. They finally gaVe them up as dead, and have so mourned them for more than four years; but on Saturday evening last Mr. H. B. Fales, of this place, received a letter from young Wilkerson, dated at Cliillicothe, asking if his foster-father still lived here. —He mentioned young Wardell but did not state whether he was dead or alive. Mr. Fales immediately showed the letter to Mr. Wardell, who started for Chillicothe on Monday morning, where he arrived in due time, and after diligent inquiry learned that Wilkerson was at work on a farm about four miles from there. He immediately repaired to the place and found Wilkerson, who informed him that his own son, Frank, was alive and well, living twelve or fourteen miles from there, near Dawn. He set out and after traveling on foot nearly all night found him, and with him returned to this place on Tuesday last, where his mother and friends were anxiously waiting between hope and fear for his return. Upon an interview with Frank he informs us that they started out with the idea of being men and becoming rich. They Calmly* and deliberately laid their plans before starting, and it is astonishing with what success they met. Two poorly clothed (they having left all their clothes at home), bare-footed boys, aged eleven and fourteen years, started out five years ago, with very little money, eluded the most thorough search, and have successfully.taken care of themselves ever since!

They at once changed their names to George and Charlie McCartney, and started easterly, keeping the Hannibal & St. Jo. Railroad in view. They traveled nearly all night, and rested near Hamilton on Monday morning, where they bought crackers and cheese, and, resuming tneir journey, arrived at Utica, about ten miles from Chillicothe, on that evening. They immediately applied to a Mr. Hiram Brown for work, telling him they were brothers, and had no relatives except a young sister in Minnesota, living with an aunt. Upon being told by Mr. B. that he did not want any help the tears started from their eyes, and that decided their fate, for Mr. B. took them in and kept them over night, and next morning struck a bargain with them. They remained with him about ten months, and have since worked at various places in that section, going'to school part of the time, and have never been twenty miles from their first stopping-place, or over fifty miles from here. They enjoyed good health all the time, and often thought they would like to return to their homes, but were determined to wait until they could return men, grown and wealthy. Mr. Wilkerson, Henry’s foster-father, moved from this place two or three years ago, and has since ■died. Henry still remains near Chillicothe— Cameron (Mo.) Observer. If we may believe our foreign critics And commentators, Americans are fair game for artist and artisan, and very easily brought down. The latest joke against us comes from Paris, by way of England, and is after the style of Zeuxis, his cheat. A French animal painter, poor in every sense of the word, cast about him desperately for a patron, and, after a total failure, happened to recall the story of the clever Z. He immediately began a deeply pathetic and tragic picture, “The Death of the Poodle,’' and every morning took his dog into the studio, and, placing the unhappy creature before the painting, administered a stout whipping. . Picture finished —rifch American invited to studio—dog comes in—sees “ Death of Poodle”—remembers stripes—howls tumultuously—rich American strikes attitude—' 4 Ha! deceived dog—how true, how beautiful!”—buys picture at a gorgeous price—is happy. Artist is happy! Dog is happy Y—New York Tribune. In San Jose a jury has decided that it is not a breach of the peace to call a man a “ low-lived cgr.”