Scottish Laddie Was Brave

1901

At Wellshot quarry, in Cambusiang, Scotland, during last winter, a frightful accident took place. One pleasant afternoon a group of lads were sliding on the ice when suddenly it gave way, and five lads were left struggling in the water.

Their cries drew the attention of a boy named Thomas Martin. He pluckily threw off his boots and succeeded in dragging lad after lad to the bank. One youth still remained in the middle of the pool, a lad named William Chalmers. Martin managed to secure several mufflers and cravats, which, tied together, reached the drowning youth, but he was unable to make use of them.

Martin, now much exhausted, again entered the water and with much difficulty brought the last boy ashore. Both were much exhausted, and Martin had to be carried home. The brave lad is only 11 years of age and not too robust in health. The quarry at the spot mentioned is said to be fully 20 feet deep.

Nerviest Little Man in Nebraska

1907

Raymond Weber, Aged 4

He didn't cry, although his father did when the latter found him alive at bottom of a well.

NEBRASKA CITY, Neb., March 9 — Raymond Weber, of this city, is only 4 years old, but he has won distinction of being the nerviest little man in Nebraska. Raymond is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Weber. He was playing in the yard with his 7-year-old brother, and the two went to the well and looked down.

There they saw a silver speck, and they wondered if it were really water and if there were gnomes and fairies and things down there. Raymond leaned way over to see. Suddenly he lost his hold and down he went. His brother ran screaming away, but soon the neighbors for a mile around were on the scene.

It was twenty-five feet to the bottom, and a windlass had to be rigged. Soon the father was going down with a load on his heart as heavy as lead, but hoping also. At the bottom he found his boy, standing in a foot of water, cool and with not a tear. "Me wet, papa," he said, as the sobbing man gathered him up.

Peg-Legged Hen a Fighter

1905

Side-Wallops Fowl That Make Light of Her Infirmity

Laying five eggs a week in the season when prices are highest is a minor accomplishment of a Ware (Mass.) hen that has a wooden leg. The hen is of Rhode Island red stock, and is owned by Charles F. Wilcox.

The leg was broken last spring, when it was a pullet, by a stone from the hand of a wanton youth. The fractured support was bandaged in splints and the bone apparently knit. But cold weather had a bad effect and a sore developing, Mr. Wilcox decided to end the suffering of the hen.

His little daughters pleaded so strongly for the hen that Mr. Wilcox spared her life and amputated the leg. In tribute to its fortitude the hen was christened Martyr.

"Why can't Martyr have a wooden leg like other people?" inquired one of Mr. Wilcox's daughters. Mr. Wilcox facetiously referred the suggestion to Gilbert Girard, who declared the idea practicable, and after taking measurements of Martyr's right leg, fashioned a leg from hard maple and attached it.

The leg, which was fitted several weeks ago, has never been removed, and the daughters of Mr. Wilcox refuse to be convinced that scales, feathers and toes will not eventually appear on the artificial leg.

When Martyr made her first appearance with the barnyard fowl after acquiring the wooden leg, her former associates united in attacking her. Martyr, however, had learned the value of the leg as a weapon, and with hard side swipes bowled her antagonists over. Her assailants adopted a conciliatory policy thereafter.

A favorite recreation with Martyr is to insert the wooden leg in the snow, and, curling the right leg beneath its feathers, stand for half an hour or more at a time, enjoying the discomfiture of imitators. Once the wooden leg became frozen in the ice, and Martyr had to be rescued.

A White Bean or Death — Struggling for Texas Independence

1878

A White Bean or Death

A Story of the Texas Struggle for Independence — Shot by the Mexican Authorities — Drawing the Lot for Life or Death

The events recorded below took place at Salado, Mexico, March 28, 1843, when seventeen Texans of the Mier expedition were shot by order of the Mexican authorities. The story is told by a correspondent who signs himself R. P. H., of Blanco, Texas, a brother of one who drew a white bean:

One hundred and-fifty-nine white beans were placed in the bottom of the mug and seventeen black ones placed upon the top of them. The beans were not stirred. Such was their anxiety to execute Captain Cameron, and perhaps the balance of the officers that first Cameron and afterward the other officers were made to draw a bean each from the mug in this condition.

Cameron, in the act of drawing first, said with his usual coolness: "Well, boys, we have to draw, let's be at it." So saying, he thrust his hand into the mug and drew out a white bean. Next came Colonel William F. Wilson, who was chained to him; then Captain William Ryan and then Judge F. H. Gibson, all of whom drew white beans. Next came Captain Eastland, who drew a black one, and then came the balance of the men. They all drew their beans with that manly dignity and firmness which showed superior to their condition.

Some of lighter temper jested over the bloody tragedy. One said, "boys, this beats raffling all to pieces." The knocking off the irons from the unfortunate told who they were. Poor Robert Beard, who lay upon the ground sick, said: "Brother, if you draw a black bean I'll take your place." The brother said : "No, I am stronger and better able to die than you." Several of the Mexican officers who officiated in the cruel violation of their country's faith expressed great dissatisfaction thereat, and some wept bitterly. Soon after the fated were placed in a separate courtyard, when about dark they were executed.

Several of our men were permitted to visit the unfortunate previously to the execution, to receive their dying requests. Poor Major Cooke said: "Boys, I told you I never failed to draw a prize; and then he said to Judge Gibson: "Say to my friends that I lived in grace." Judge Gibson was so much affected at this last parting that he showed it from his tears. The major said: "They only rob me of forty years," and then sat down and wrote a sensible and dignified letter to General Waddy Thompson, the United States minister to Mexico, and knowing that his remains would be robbed of his clothes after death, drew off his pants and handed them to his surviving comrades and died in his underclothes. Poor Henry Whaling, one of Cameron's best fighters, said: " Well, they didn't make much off me, anyhow, for I know I have killed twenty-five of the yellow dogs." Then demanding his dinner in a firm tone, saying that "they could not cheat me out of it," ate heartily, smoked a cigar, and in twenty-five minutes was launched into eternity.

Our interpreter, who was permitted to remain with them to the last, says that "fifteen times they wounded the iron-nerved soul, Henry Whaling, and it would seem that Providence had a special care in prolonging his existence that he might demonstrate to his enemies the national character they had to contend with, for he gritted his teeth at and defied them in terms of withering reproach, until they placed a gun to his head and blew his brains against the wall." Such was the effect of this horrible massacre upon their own soldiers, who were standing as guards upon the wall above, that one or them fainted and came near falling over, but was caught by his comrades.

Poor Terry, quite a youth, but in spirit a giant, said that "he was perfectly willing to meet his fate; that for his country he had fought and for her glory he was willing to die," and turning to the officers, said: "After the battle of San Jacinto my family took one of your youths prisoner, raised and educated him, and this is your requital." Edward Este spoke of his fate with coolness. Cash said: "Well, they murdered my brother with Colonel Fannin, and they are about to murder me. Tell the officer to look upon men who are not afraid to die for their country." Captain Eastland behaved with the most patriotic zeal. He desired that his country should never lay down her arms until the most ample reparation and her freedom was obtained. Major Robert Dunham said he "was prepared to die, and would to God that he had a chance to do the same thing over again; that he gloried in the demonstration they had made, which showed Texans without arms to be more than equal to Mexicans with arms." James Ogden, with his usual equanimity of temper, smiled at his fate, and said: "I am prepared to die." Young Robert W. Harris behaved in the most unflinching manner, and called upon his companions to avenge the murder, while their flowing tears and bursting hearts, invoking heaven for their witness, responded to the call. I have the utmost confidence that this pledge, so solemnly plighted, will be redeemed. They one and all invoked their country to do both them and herself justice.

Just previous to the firing they were bound together with cords, and their eyes being bandaged, they were set upon a log near the wall, with their backs to their executioners. They all begged the officers to shoot them in front and at short distance, as "they were not afraid to look death in the face." This they refused to do, fired at several paces, and continued the firing from ten to twelve minutes, mangling these heroes in a manner too horrible for description.

The names of the murdered men were : L. L. Cash, J. D. Cooke, Robert Dunham, Captain W. M. Eastland, Edward Este, Robert Harris, Thomas L. Jones, Patrick Manan, James Ogden, Charles Roberts, William Rowan; J. L. Shepherd, J. M. Thompson, James Terrey, James Turnbull, Henry Whaling, M. C. Wing. — Houston (Texas) Telegram.