“I spent part of last night with the Chicago American Relief Bureau. I had no business there. The nurses and doctors had done all there was to do. They have worked like great big-spirited Trojans. The babies were all abed and asleep. The women were fed and the homeless and destitute men who had wandered in for shelter had been tucked away in the gallery and made as comfortable as possible. A HEROIC LAD. “The gas was out in the great theatre, and a few candles shed a flickering light. A lad told this story: He lost every one on earth he loved and who loved him in the flood. He swam two miles and over with his little brother on his back, and then saw his brother killed by a piece of falling timber after they had reached dry land and what he supposed was safety. “He is sixteen years old, this boy of mine; tall and strong in every way, and when he had dug a shallow grave in the sand for his little brother he went up and down the prairies and buried those he found. Alone in the declining sun, without food or water, impelled by some vague instinct to do something for some one, this boy did this, and yesterday they found him fainting in a field and brought him to us. We put him to bed, made him take a bowl of soup and gave him a bath. “He seemed perfectly amazed at the idea that any one should want to do anything for him. We only got his story out of him by persistent and earnest questioning. He said there was none to tell. Last night he was talking in his sleep. “‘That’s all right, Charley,’ he said over and over again. ‘Brother won’t let you get hurt. Don’t you be scared, Charley, and I will save you!’ and he threw his arms out and about as if he was swimming. “Hour after hour he swam and hour after hour he comforted his little brother, and when I laid my hand on his forehead and he woke and remembered where he was, he smiled up into my face as a tired child would smile into the face of one he loved, and went to sleep and began to swim through the black and troubled waters with Charley on his strong young shoulders again. “He is utterly alone in the world now. The doctors are a little afraid of brain fever for him, but I believe we can stave it off, and if we can we are going to keep him in the relief corps and give him work and something to do and live for as long as we are here. His name is on the list of patients published with this article. If anyone who sees it remembers and wants to befriend this boy telegraph to the American Relief Bureau at Houston and we will attend to it. HUNGRY AND HALF CLAD.