SAVED FROM DEATH
LITTLE EARLY GUNN RESCUED FROM DROWNING

James Finley, Tired of Catching Runaway Horses, Tries His Hand at a New Line with Success

        James Findley, having tired of the heroic, but thankless, business of catching runaway horses, has now resolved to devote his surplus energies to the rescue of drowning persons, and to that end, quite as much apparently as for purpose of trade, he has established convenient headquarters in the block near the south side of the Clinton Street bridge. The first opportunity to distinguish himself in his newly chosen sphere of heroism occurred this morning.

          About 9 a.m. Monday, Early, the pretty little ten-year-old daughter of George D. Gunn, left her home at the corner of Clinton and Church streets to take an airing with her two dogs, one a wee creature like herself and the other a good-sized spaniel with all the characteristic fondness of his breed for water. A cord wound about her wrist held the larger animal in check, while the other was permitted to run about as he pleased. The little girl came tripping along, over the Court House sidewalk and passed onto the Clinton street bridge. The canal looked tempting to the spaniel and he struggled to free himself from his mistress's hold. She finally succeeded in coaxing or threatening him into submission and was proceeding on her way over the bridge when the little dog, who from the example of his larger brother, had learned to appreciate the luxury of a cool bath on a warm day, ran down the stone steps on the south side and plunged into the canal. The spaniel immediately became unmanageable and tugged away at the rope until his mistress, none too strong for her years, lost nearly all power of resistance. The dog in his frantic efforts to reach the water started headlong down the stairs and into the canal, dragging the little girl in after him.

           At least twenty persons witnessed the accident, some of them great, strong men, but not one among them all was equal to the emergency or had the courage to risk his own life in the effort to save the little girl. The rope had unwound itself from her wrist soon after she was dragged into the water, and the spaniel, thus freed from control, made for the little dog, seized it with his teeth and swam ashore. Meanwhile the little girl's situation had become desperate, and all hope of rescue was apparently gone. For a time her clothing kept her upon the surface, but as it became thoroughly drenched, she began to sink, and soon only her long black hair was visible above the water. There were two canal boats close by, and the poltroons who stood upon them made no effort to save her except by reaching out with long poles and endeavoring to catch her dress with the hooks at the end.

             "My God, will no one save her?" screamed a woman who was standing on the bridge. Just then, in the very nick of time, a man came dashing across the street to learn the cause of the excitement, his own keen instincts half apprising him of what was taking place before his eyes could realize the truth. It was "Jim" Findley, the noted horse-catcher, ready for a fresh display of heroism. When he reached the bridge his eye fell upon a mass of dark hair floating upon the canal's surface and two little hands struggling in the water.  The girl sank before he could make an effort at rescue. Quick as a flash he darted down the stone steps, and when half way to the waters edge, dove into the canal. A moment later he reappeared with the little girl clinging about his neck and swam to the dock. He said afterward that he found her at the bottom of the canal, her hands buried deep in the mud.

             The little girl, when taken from the water, seemed, except for the wetting, not much the worse off for her perilous adventure. She declined all further offers of assistance, and, after removing the mud from her hands, started home, accompanied only by the two dogs, after saying to Mr. Findley in her pretty, childish way: "When I go home and get dressed I'll come back and thank you again."

               Near the County Clerk's building Miss Early met her mother, who had just been apprised of the accident, and the anxious mother fainted at the sight of her daughter with her wet clothing clinging tightly to her little body. Miss Early was combing the water out of her hair when a reporter for The Herald called at the house half an hour after the accident. She chatted about the accident pleasantly and in apparent unconsciousness of the great danger through which she had passed. "Papa told me not to let the spaniel go into the water, you know." she said, "because he would stay in too long, and so I hung on to him. When he pulled me in I let go of the rope because I was afraid I would pull the dog down with me. I held up my hand and tried to call, but my mouth got full of water and I couldn't. I remember when Mr. Findley took hold of me, and I just put my arms around him and he saved me." 

Syracuse Weekly Express, Thursday, July 4, 1889. Submitted by Robyn.