Deaf and Dumb!

by Harry Castlemon

the reply of the benevolent heart?--"It is our dutyto speak for them, to alleviate their distress, as much as possible,and, if in our power, to contribute to the removal of it." I hope thisis the language of all my readers. It has been (and I have seen it withpleasure) that of not a few children, who, on hearing of the Asylum forthose of their own age that are thus unfortunate, where they are taughtto speak, and to understand others, have contributed their smalldonations; while some, even by a penny a week, collected from a number,have, within a few months, added no inconsiderable sum to the fund whichis raised for the support of this charity; and their pleasure isincreased by it, in proportion as the gratification of contributing tothe relief of such distress, is superior to that obtained by toys orsweetmeats.

  Caroline and Henry were soon out of the cart, and greeted with anaffectionate kiss from Mrs. Goldsmith; particularly the latter, whoreturned her caresses with equal affection. He then shook hands with hisfoster brother, who had been named after him, and began asking afterthe health of some rabbits he had left in his care, while Carolineoffered a present she had brought for the eldest girl. She spoke to allthe rest; but William and Lucy, one ten, and the other five years old,stood on one side. Caroline took the hand of the eldest, and would havekissed little Lucy, but feared distressing her, as she could notrecollect her former visits to them. The poor mother's eyes bore witnessthat she felt her kindness to the unfortunate child: "It is of no use totell her who you are, Miss," said she, "or I know she would not beafraid of so good a friend, for she is not insensible of kindness." Atear shone in Caroline's eye, as she handed her some sugar-plums andcakes she had brought in her pocket; and the little girl was the onlyone whose pleasure, at that time, was not mixed with regret. She was tooyoung to feel her situation; and though she often found herself at aloss to express her meaning, she had not yet observed that others hadnot the same difficulty. But this was not the case with William, _he_severely felt the difference between himself and his brothers, though hecould not understand what made it: he saw their lips move, and he movedhis, unconscious whether he uttered a sound or not. In every otherrespect his senses were perfect, and perhaps more keen from thisdeficiency. Hardly any thing escaped his notice: he was even moreuseful to his mother than any of the rest; and whatever she wanted, hewas the one most likely to find it out, and bring it to her, though hecould not hear her say what it was. Her tears, as on this morning, wereoften mingled with her smiles, on observing his affectionate attention;and a sympathetic feeling would excite the same in him, though he couldnot judge from what cause it proceeded. He would wipe his eyes, and kissthe tears from hers, and then, with his arms around her neck, endeavourto comfort her with his inarticulate expressions. Happily for him, hewas not conscious that the very attempt added to her distress.

  He had this morning seen his mother's face enlivened by a smile, withoutany appearance of sorrow, and this was enough to make him happy. He hadalso seen his eldest brother preparing the cart to fetch their youngvisitors; and his memory, which was very retentive, immediately recurredto their former visits, in which he had often experienced theirgood-nature. Harry, the namesake and foster brother of little Rawlinson,was one year younger than he, but William had long given up theseniority, and allowed him to take the lead in all their amusements. Onseeing their guest, he recollected that the rabbits which he had oftenfed in Harry's absence, belonged to him, and pointing to the place inwhich they were kept, endeavoured to draw him to them. The two Henrysimmediately followed him; and Caroline was as eager to notice the babyMrs. Goldsmith held in her arms. This again produced a sigh from thepoor woman: "I am afraid," said she, "that this dear child is asunfortunate as my poor William and Lucy: it is now nine months old, andyet it does not seem to know its name. If I speak ever so loud, it doesnot turn its head, and I am very much afraid I shall never have thepleasure of hearing it answer me: only when it sees a thing, does itseem to notice it! Ah, my poor dear," continued she, "what shall I dowith you?" "Oh, I hope you will not be so unfortunate, Mrs. Goldsmith,"returned Caroline, and she again kissed the child and called it by itsname. He saw her look of kindness, and smiled at her in return, but thesound of her voice did not reach him.

  The servants, who had by this time unpacked the provision with whichthey were loaded, saw there was ground for the poor woman's fears, butCaroline would fain have persuaded her they were without foundation. Therest of Mr. Goldsmith's family consisted of the boy who drove them, thenabout fourteen; Mary, the eldest girl, two years younger; and Jane, whowas between Harry and little Lucy; a boy still younger, in petticoats;and the little one in arms: seven in the whole; and three of these, myyoung readers, would have been incapable of getting their bread, had itnot been for the Asylum I have spoken of: their parents being _poor_,and having no means of procuring for them such instruction as would makethem useful, and which is provided for them there.

  Master Goldsmith was a day-labourer, and at this time came home for hisbreakfast, which his cleanly wife had prepared for him before thecompany came: the bread and cheese and cold bacon were on the table whenhe entered. The kettle was also boiling, and all the party sat down toeat their meal together. Master Goldsmith and his eldest boy at onetable, and the children and the maids, with Mrs. Goldsmith, at another.The little ones, who, on other mornings, had bread and milk for theirbreakfast, were on this occasion treated with tea and bread and butter,as Mrs. Rawlinson had sent enough for all to partake of.

  It was pleasing to see the attention which William paid to his sisterLucy: it seemed as if he considered her as doubly endeared to him, bytheir both sharing in the same misfortune; and yet those who noticed itwere at a loss to account for his knowing it.--Nature had taught it him,and the sorrow of their mother was much alleviated by perceiving it. Hewatched every thing that was given to her, and appeared more anxiousthat _she_ should have enough, than for himself. When the rest of thechildren had had two cups of tea, and hers was not given to herimmediately, he held up one of his fingers, (the way in which his motherhad taught him to distinguish _numbers_,) and pointed to Lucy, as if totell her she was neglected. Caroline saw his meaning, and touching hishand to draw his attention, offered him hers to give to his sister. Withan eye as quick as lightning, he looked to his mother, as if to ask ifthat were proper, and seeing her disapprove, he shook his head, andagain pointed to Lucy's cup, which when Miller had once more filled, henodded his thanks, and quietly drank what was in his own. His fatheralso was another object of his attention: he would have carried some teato him, had not the good man preferred the more substantial food he wastaking, and by signs made him understand so.

  When the breakfast was ended, he and his son went again to their work;and Mary, after looking in vain to her mother, to introduce the subjectfor her, begged Miss Caroline to accept of a squirrel she had beentaming purposely for her: "My brother made the cage, Miss," said she,"and you will be kind enough to excuse the rough work; but the littlefellow in it, is what I hope you will like." William seemed to knowwhat she was speaking of; he watched her motions, and when he saw herbring the cage into the room, he discovered as much pleasure that he hadunderstood what she intended to do with it, as that Miss Rawlinsonshould have it. He took some nuts out of his pocket, and showed herthose were what it was to eat; and then running to his mother, with alook which she as perfectly understood as if he had spoken to her, askedif she were not glad Miss Rawlinson was going to have it. But littleLucy, who had been often entertained by the squirrel's tricks, was notso willing it should be parted with: she thought something was going tobe done with it, and, as well as she could, expressed her enquiries anddissatisfaction. William saw her distress, and by motions, understoodonly by themselves, made her know it was what _he_ approved of, and ifso, he concluded she could have no objection. In this conclusion he wasright, for the countenance of Lucy immediately cleared up, and sheappeared perfectly content.

  After this, all the young ones, with Miller and Sally to take care ofthem, went to the copse to search for nuts; while Mrs. Goldsmi
th and herdaughter staid within, to put away what had been used at breakfast, andto prepare the dinner. In the party out of doors, William was the mostactive: he climbed the trees, and not being interrupted by theconversation of the others, his whole attention was employed ingathering nuts for Miss Rawlinson and her brother, except that every nowand then a glance was directed towards Lucy, who stood looking on hisemployment. With a look fully expressive of his meaning, he neverpresented the nuts to their visitors, without giving Lucy a few, as ifto say: "Poor thing, she is but a child, and she is unfortunate; shewill be uneasy if she has not some, and I know you will excuse it:" andthen, with an approving nod and smile, he would direct her eyes towardstheir company, as if to make her sensible it was proper they should havethe largest share. Having filled their little baskets,