The Balloon Girl of Seattle

At the still hour of midnight, more excitement, consternation and weeping could not have come over the people who witnessed the most wonderful and miraculous escape. Mrs. Hubert Elliott had been in Seattle for ten days to restore the health of her child, a little girl less than three years old, who was much emaciated from a spell of Texas fever. This morning, a strolling Italian appeared in front of the hotel with a large cluster of red, bladder-like toy balloons. Major Hawkins, of Alabama, to amuse little Birdie, whom he had in his arms, tied the cord that held the balloons around her waist, and then, as is so often done, gave her a toss of five or six feet into the air, and held up his hands for her return. 'Great God! she is gone,' cried the Major, as he saw her going rapidly up until she had passed the house-tops. Floating in the clouds, the little angel could be heard distinctly calling, 'Mamma,' until her voice was drowned by the wind. All the men at the hotel started out in boats, as the little one was drifting to sea. By an act of providence, Mr. Charles J. Voorhees, of the Southern Express Company, with a party of gentlemen, were out sailing. Mr. Voorhees is an expert rifleman, and he had on board his Smith & Wesson rifle. He at once took in the situation, remarking, 'Six miles out at sea and going at the rate of ten miles an hour, and now four hundred yards high and every minute going higher. I can cut those balloons, and will do it or die.' Bang went the rifle; the fifth shot one balloon disappeared. At the eighth shot, it became evident the balloons could no longer carry the weight, as she was gradually descending toward Marker's Island. She fell into a cradle of sand. When picked up, she was playing with shells, saying, 'ese sells for mamma.' The little darling came out as bright as a new pin.