By this time, so many of the children had come back to the playgrounds that several of those living near were sent home for assistance.  It quickly arrived; for Reuben Johnson and his uncle lost no time in spreading the news, and three young men, each with a loaded gun, appeared on the scene, eager to dispose of the dangerous animal.  The latter was at such disadvantage that this was done without trouble or risk.

Providentially none of the children had been bitten, though more than one underwent a narrow escape.  Such animals as had felt the fangs of the rabid cur were slain, and thus no harm resulted from the brief run of the brute.

OVERREACHED.

Bushrod, or “Bush” Wyckoff was only twelve years old when he went to work for Zeph Ashton, who was not only a crusty farmer, but one of the meanest men in the country, and his wife was well fitted to be the life partner of such a parsimonious person.

They had no children of their own, and had felt the need for years of a willing, nimble-footed youngster to do the odd chores about the house, such as milking cows, cutting and bringing in wood, running of errands, and the scores of odd little jobs which are easy enough for boys, but sorely try the stiff and rheumatic limbs of a man in the decline of life.

Bush was a healthy little fellow—­not very strong for his years, but quick of movement, bright-witted, willing, and naturally a general favorite.  The misfortunes which suddenly overtook his home roused the keenest sympathy of his neighbors.  His father was a merchant in New York, who went to and from the metropolis each week day morning and evening, to his pleasant little home in New Jersey.  One day his lifeless body was brought thither, and woe and desolation came to the happy home.  He was killed in a railway accident.

The blow was a terrible one, and for weeks it seemed as if his stricken widow would follow him across the dark river; but her Christian fortitude and her great love for their only child sustained her in her awful grief, and she was even able to thank her Heavenly Father that her dear boy was spared to her.

But how true it is that misfortunes rarely come singly.  Her husband had amassed a competency sufficient to provide comfortably for those left behind; but his confidence in his fellow-men was wofully betrayed.  He was one of the bondsmen of a public official who made a hasty departure to Canada, one evening, leaving his business in such a shape that his securities were compelled to pay fifty thousand dollars.  Two others were associated with Mr. Wyckoff, and with the aid of their tricky lawyers they managed matters so that four-fifths of the loss fell upon the estate of the deceased merchant.

The result swept it away as utterly as were the dwellings in the Johnstown Valley by the great flood.  The widow and her boy left their home and moved into a little cottage, with barely enough left to keep the wolf of starvation from the door.