CHAPTER VII.
THE BLIND MAN.
As we were sitting, one afternoon during the next week, near the parlorwindows, the girls and myself at work while Mrs. Wilmot read out for us,we heard the gate open, and looking up, saw an old man, whose clothesseemed to have been long worn, and whose white hairs were covered with aragged straw hat, approaching the house. A little boy was with him, andas he came near, we saw that this little boy was leading him, by whichwe knew that the poor old man was blind. He seated himself on the stepof the house, and taking off a bag, which was slung over his shoulder,drew a violin from it, and began to play. The children wished to go outand speak with him, and as Mrs. Wilmot did not object, they were soongathered round him. I followed them. They listened for a while withoutspeaking. Then Lucy Wilmot, the youngest of the group, pressed up to hisside, saying, "Cannot you see at all, sir?"
"No, my little miss. But though I cannot see you, I can hear yourpleasant voice, and I know that you are sorry for the old blind man, andfeel kindly to him, and I am sure that when you know he has had nothingto eat to-day, though he has come a great way, you will give himsomething."
In an instant all were in motion, and Mrs. Wilmot was soon busypreparing a plate of victuals, with a dozen little hands waiting tocarry it to the old man, when prepared. After they had given it to him,the girls came back into the house till the first note of his violintold them that he had dined, when again they flocked around him. Mostpeople, and especially most old people, like to tell their sorrows. Theold man was therefore quite ready to answer their questions, and theysoon learned his little story. It was a very sad one. He had removedsome years before with his son's family to a newly settled westernstate. The land on which they had made their home proved very unhealthy.His son and his son's wife were both in their graves. He had been veryill himself, and had only recovered with the entire loss of sight, andwith a constitution so broken that he felt he had not long to live. "Andglad shall I be," he said, "to lay this weary, sightless body down inthe grave, to which so many I love have gone before me; but first Iwould take this poor orphan boy to those who will take care of him."
The tired travellers had yet fifty miles to go before they would reachthe home of the old man's only remaining child, a daughter, who, thoughshe had children of her own, would take care of the boy, he said, forthe love of him and of her dead brother. Poor little boy! how sad andweary he looked, and how bitterly he wept when the old man talked of hisfather and mother!
My little readers will easily believe that this sad story excited greatpity, and they will not be surprised to hear that on Clara Devaux'sproposing that they should give the old man something, each little girlbrought her sixpence or her shilling and threw it into a bag which Claraherself held. As the proposal had been hers, I was very desirous to seewhat she would give, but this I could not do. Whatever it was, it madeno noise as it fell into the bag, from which I thought it must be papermoney, and consequently could not be less than one dollar.
Some of Grace Wilmot's movements on this occasion excited my surpriseand curiosity very much. As soon as Clara's proposal was made, she raninto the parlor, took from her work-basket a pocket-book, and taking outall the money it contained, counted it carefully upon the table beforeher. I could see that there were two bills and two silver half dollars.Grace took one of the bills, and putting the rest of the money away,turned towards the door, but before she had reached it, she seemedsuddenly to have changed her mind, and going back, returned the bill andtook in its place one of the half dollars. As there was no one in theparlor but herself, Grace did not suppose she was seen, till raising herhead, she caught my eye, as I stood at the window, looking fixedly ather. She colored very much, and running hastily to Clara dropped herhalf dollar into the bag.
Now you will say that this was a great deal for a young girl like Graceto give. So it was, and few little girls could have given so much. ButI had seen that Grace had more money, and that she had thought of givingmore and then had withdrawn it, and I could not help asking myself overand over again what could have been her reason for doing so, whether shehad kept it back for some more important purpose, or whether it had beenonly for some selfish gratification. On the answer to this question myopinion of Grace Wilmot would, I felt, greatly depend. Though I had towait many weeks for this answer, you will learn, when you have read thislittle book, that I received an answer, and what that answer was.
Aunt Kitty's Tales Page 34
