the contrary, will know that I have not told half or a quarter ofwhat may be done to teach blind children a variety of employments. Atthose schools you may see children making beautiful baskets ofvarious-coloured strips of osier arranged in patterns; and they neverforget on which side of them the different colours are laid, and thiswork they can go on with quite fast, even while you stand talking tothem--and they learn to do many many other nice things also besidesbasket making.
Of late years too they have begun to read in books made on purpose forthem, with the letters raised above the rest of the paper, so thatthey can _feel_ the shapes with their fingers. Is not this wonderful?And they can be taught all these things much more easily than youwould imagine, for it is really true that when one of the senses hasbeen taken away, the others by having all the exercise thrown uponthem, become so sharp and acute, they do twice their usual work, if Imay so express it. This is a merciful dispensation of Providence,which renders the loss of the one that is gone much less hard to bear.And does it not teach us also, what a valuable thing constant practiceis? Neither you nor I can feel or hear half so clearly as blind peoplecan, who practise feeling and hearing on so many occasions where wesave ourselves the trouble, by using sight instead.
To return to Roderick. You perhaps expected to hear that he frettedand petted very much after he was first blind, but really it was notso; and though occasionally he may have grumbled a little, it was onlywhen he was slightly peevish, as children will sometimes be, and Ibelieve he would have found something to grumble about then, even ifhe had seen as well as you do.
Besides, as I said before, the knowledge of his misfortune came uponhim by degrees; and after he had got used to it, he did not think muchabout it. When the family moved to the great town, Roderick had as itwere to begin his blind lessons over again, for he had to learn toremember all about the rooms and the furniture there; but with a kindlittle brother or sister always at hand to help him he soon becameexpert in the town house too, and could run up and down the longflights of stairs with the nimblest of them. I believe the onlymelancholy wish he ever uttered was heard on the first day he reachedthe town house. When his Mamma came to see him in the nursery thatevening, she found him kneeling in a chair against one of thewindows--and on going up to him he threw his arms round her neck andsaid, "Oh, Mamma, if I could but see the lamplighters!" Do not laugh,dear readers, if I add that the tears trickled over his cheeks as hespoke. His mother was much distressed, as she always was when she sawhim thinking of his affliction, but she sat down and said, "Nevermind, dear Roderick, I will tell you all they do to-night." And so shedid, and she made her account so droll, of how the lamplighter ran,and how he seized his ladder in such a hurry, and all the wholebusiness, that by the time she got to the end, and said, "and now hehas come to the last lamp-post,--ah, he's up before I can tell you!and pop! the lamp is lit, and down he runs, and off with his ladder tothe next street--and now the lamps are shining bright all round thesquare, and I must go to dinner,"--Roderick was clapping his hands andlaughing as merrily as ever, and he got down from the chair quitesatisfied. Still for a few weeks he used always to get one of thechildren to tell him of the lamps lighting, and this was the only sadlittle fancy the poor child ever indulged in.
The great town gave him various new amusements. His Parents used everynow and then to take him to some fine conservatory, where flowers areshown even in winter, and where he could smell various new and rareones, and be told all about their beautiful colours. Then sometimes inthe parks and gardens there was a band playing, which was a greatdelight. And besides that, they took him occasionally to morningconcerts for an hour or so; for though it is not usual to takechildren to those places, he was deprived of so many enjoyments, theylet him have all they could: and especially musical ones, for it is avery common thing for blind people to become very fond of music, andRoderick was so, and among other employments learnt to play. I cannot,however, I am sorry to say, add that the great doctors in the townwere able to do him any good, though they tried very much, and some ofthem were so much charmed and interested by his cheerful manner andsweet disposition, that they got quite fond of him, and would oftenhave him come and see them, and play with their children, who wereinstructed to amuse him in every possible way, and as children arenaturally kindhearted, this was generally a pleasant task, and many ofthem quite looked forward to the visits of the little blind boy.
And so passed on a long and rather severe winter, and presentlyRoderick's birthday came round, and there was great wondering as towhat Mamma could do to keep it. And when the time came it turned outthat she had got a band of musicians to come and play--and thechildren danced, and Roderick among them, for some sister was alwaysready to take him under her especial charge. And then some olderchildren acted a little play, which he could hear and understand, andhis Mamma described to him who came in and went out, and in thismanner he enjoyed it nearly as much as the others.
Well, the spring-time came once more, and with it the season forreturning to the old Sea Castle, and the children went through theirusual round of impatience, and I cannot say that Roderick at allforbore, for his Papa had promised to teach him to climb a ladder likethe lamplighter when he got back, and he was by that means to go upone of the very old elm trees, and get on to a great branch there was,which was curled into a sort of easy chair, and there he was to sitand play at being judge, and hold trials, and I know not what. Therewere besides so many schemes for his instruction and amusement, andamong other things, there was to be a band established in theneighbouring village, which should come and play to them in the oldSea Castle--that the child was more wild with hurry and impatiencethan ever, and said more absurd things than the rest, for he usedevery day to declare the _flies_ were becoming so numerous andtroublesome he was plagued out of his life by their walking over hisface and nose! But as none of his brothers and sisters ever saw theflies, we are obliged to conclude the tickling he talked of was onlyan effect of his excited imagination.
At last, however, they went, and in compliment to Roderick's wishes itwas a week or two sooner than usual. The return to the Sea Castle homerather oppressed poor Lady Madeline's spirits. The doctors in thegreat town had failed--it was now clear that nothing could be done,and in spite of all her sincere endeavours to be resigned, she couldnot help feeling this coming back to the original scene of hermisfortune very much. One day--it was the anniversary of the day onwhich her poor child became blind, the Lady Madeline was working inher sitting-room that faced the Sea,--Mothers' memories are very acuteabout anniversaries, and days, and even hours marked by particularevents. They may not talk much about them perhaps, but they recollecttimes and circumstances connected with their children very keenly, andtherefore it is not surprizing that on this day the poor lady wassitting in her room working, or trying to work, but thinking ofnothing in the world but of that day year and her blind child. It wasa beautiful evening, and the window was thrown wide open, and thefresh but soft breeze from the Sea blew pleasantly on her face as shesat at her work-table by the casement--but lovely as the scene outsidewas, she seldom lifted up her eyes to look at it. She had been all herlife a great admirer of beautiful scenes, and of all the varieties thechanges of day and night produce--but now the sight of any thingparticularly lovely brought so painfully before her mind the fact thather child's eyes were closed to all these things, that she oftenforbore to look again, and so spared herself a repetition of the pang.Madeline's eyes therefore remained upon her work, or on her knee whenshe ceased working,--for ever and anon there was a burst of noise andmerriment about the old house, which startled her from her painfulthoughts. It was, however, the happy voices of her children, and againand again she sank into her melancholy mood, and so continued till thered hue of a very red sunset burst as it were suddenly into the room,and lighted up the portrait of Roderick, which hung over themantel-piece. Involuntarily Madeline's eyes glanced from the lovelycountenance of her then bright-eyed boy, thus illuminated, to the sunbeyond the Sea. She was too late, how
ever. He had just descendedbehind the waves in a perfect flood of crimson glory, but as shegazed, (for she could not withdraw-her eyes,) a haze--yes, the softestand most etherial cloud-like haze, showing the outline of a beautifulmountainous island, rose in the far off distance, just on the verge ofthe horizon. It was the Fairy Island. It recalled to the mother'sremembrance the existence of her Fairy cousin once more. "Cruel, cruelEudora," she exclaimed, "you offered me friendship and assistance, andin the hour of trouble and affliction you have never been near to helpor even to comfort me."
And Madeline, in the bitterness of her heart, closed the windowhastily and angrily, and sat down. Soon, however, the noises she hadseveral times heard of the children playing, became louder and louder,and the whole party burst at last into the room. "Mamma, Mamma," theycried, scarcely able to speak, "guess where
The Fairy Godmothers and Other Tales Page 16
