Rensselaer Union, Volume 10, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 December 1877 — Mike. [ARTICLE]

Mike.

He used to look into the windows of the periodical stores, and read the titles of the dime novels with delight; he reveled in the wood-prints of “One Eye, the Scourge,” and stood long before the fascinating pictures descriptive of “Snarleyow, the Dog-Fiend” And so looking and dreaming in his own way, he decided that a trapper’s life was the life for him. He had small conceptions of distance, anil thought some huntinggrounds might be found near the terminus of the horse-railway; preparations for the~ work. One flvecent loaf, a jack-knife with two blades, one piece of clothes-line, five feet long, for capturing deer, buffalo, or anything of that sort, and six cents, comprised his outfit. He knew trappers had a tent usually, and a slouched hat-and black moustache; but not being able to manage either, reluctantly left them out. One chilly, gray day, late in November, he wrapped up his possessions, confided his secret to the latest nice boy he knew, who recoiled with horror, and then, his father and mother being out, and his elder sister or brothers scattered or quarreling, Mike set out on his travels. He took a car, and by dextrous jumping oft" and on, managed to save his fare; and when the horses were unloosed at the end of the route, he ran. There were too many houses about there, but lie saw trees in the distance", and went toward them. The street was long, but at last, by climbing up high on the roeks above” the road, lie found the trees. A rough country it was, Mike thought, and it was growing cold, but he walked on. It was lonesome, too, and Mike wished he had brought his next younger brother, but it was too iate now. It began to snow, and soon snowed hard. Mike looked round him, a little frightened. He fell, too, once or twice, for the rocks were steep and slippery. “I wonder where thd deer are?” thought he. He had heard that a whistle would call them, so tried “ Capt. Jinks”' and ;; the ” Mulligan Guarifo.’jTmt both failed of »!»“■■• ject. and it was growing rapidly dark. Just then a caAry, bewildered and evidently hurt, hopped close to him, then flew a little. Mike gave chase. Loaf under his arm, rope in hand, he ran farther and farther. The bird, though evidently weak, went faster than he. It was dark. He lost sight of it, saw it just ahead, dashed forward, and fell. They did not find him for several days. The snow had falleAvery thick forthat time of the year, and it was bitterly cold. On the fourth day a party of gentleman, walking out after dinner "from the"greatr-howse-e«-whose giontgly Mike-had -gone - hunting,-with cigars and light talk, came suddenly upon something half buried in the snow, amid bushes and stones, with high bare shrubs and trees above it—something lying so still that, though they hushed their tones, the loudest laugh would not wake it. The gentlemen lifted the childish figure in the ragged jacket and long trousers extended at the foot of the steep rock, and the dead canary near him. Such an unfinished little life to end so soon! Such an ignorant child to have gone so far on the long journey. His parents mourned and buried him after’their fashion; and that was all, except that onifof the gentlemen, who was an artist, being struck with something picturesque in the circumstances, painted the picture as lie saw it; and people praised it. as an expression of a phase of human life, very much. Finally a lady bought it, and it is seen by those who know mostly of lives like this through art, and they feel its pathos: often their voices tremble as they turn away. The picture shows them a high rough rock and leafless shrubs, and at stone which has fallen upon him, a little boy with long heavy hair lies stretched, the rope and bread close beside him, and near by a dead canary.— Mary (i. Morrison, in Harper's Magazine for January.