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“Well, Betty, I am very glad I have “Well, so you ought to be, according seen you once more ; I shan't forget it. to Cocker, spending all your time in Harry shan't want a friend while I live.” sick rooms.”
“The Lord bless you, master Tom, “ According to who ?” for that word," said the dying woman, “According to Cocker." returning the pressure, as her eyes filled “Who is Cocker ?” with tears. Katie, who had been watch- “Oh, I don't know ; some old fellow ing her carefully from the other side of who wrote the rules of arithmetic, I bethe bed, made him a sign to go.
lieve; it's only a bit of slang. But, I “Good-bye, Betty,” he said; “I won't repeat, you have a right to be sad, and forget, you may be sure ; God bless it's taking an unfair advantage of your you ;” and then, disengaging his hand relations to look as pleasant as you do.” gently, went out again into the porch, Katie laughed ; "You ought not to where he sat down to wait for his cousin. say so at any rate,” she said, “for you
In a few minutes the nurse returned, look all the pleasanter for your visit to and Katie came out of the cottage soon a sick room.” afterwards.
“Did I look very unpleasant before ?" “Now I will walk up home with
“Well, I don't think you were in a she said. “You must come in and see
very good humour.” papa. Well, I'm sure you must be glad “No, I was in a very bad humour, you went in. Was not I right?” and talking to you and poor old Betty
“Yes, indeed; I wish I could have has set me right, I think. But you said said something more to comfort her." her's was a special case. It must be
“You couldn't have said more. It very sad work in general." was just what she wanted.”
Only when one sees people in great “But where is her son ? I ought to pain, or when they are wicked, and see him before I go.”
quarrelling, or complaining about no“He has gone to the Doctor's for thing; then I do get very low somesome medicine. He will be back soon." times. But even then it is much better
“Well, I must see him; and I should than keeping to oneself. Anything is like to do something for him at once. better than thinking of oneself, and one's I'm not very flush of money, but I must own troubles." give you something for him. You'll “I dare say you are right," said Tom, take it; I shouldn't like to offer it to recalling his morning's meditations, “eshim.”
pecially when one's troubles are home“I hardly think he wants money ; made. Look, here's an old fellow who they are well off now. He earns good gave me a lecture on that subject before vrages, and Betty has done her washing I saw you this morning, and took me for up to this week.”
the apothecary's boy." “Yes, but he will be fined, I suppose, They were almost opposite David's for this assault ; and then, if she should door, at which he stood with a piece of die, there will be the funeral expenses. work in his hand. He had seen Miss
“Very well; as you please,” she said; Winter from his look-out window, and and Tom proceeded to hand over to her had descended from his board in hopes all his ready money, except a shilling or of hearing news. two. After satisfying his mind thus he Katie returned his respectful and looked at her, and said,
anxious salute, and said, “She is no “Do you know, Katie, I don't think
worse, David. We left her quite out of I ever saw you so happy and in such pain and very quiet.” spirits ?”
“Ah, ʼtis to be hoped as she'll hev a “There now! And yet you began peaceful time on't now, poor soul,” said talking to me as if I were looking sad David; “I've a been to farmer Grove's, enough to turn all the beer in the parish and I hopes as he'll do summat about sour."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Miss saw all things and persons with quite a Winter, "and my cousin here, who knew different pair of eyes from those which Harry very well when they were little he had been provided with when he boys together, has promised to help him. arrived in Englebourn that morning. This is Harry's best friend," she said to He even made allowances for old Mr. Tom, “who has done more than any one Winter, who was in his usual querulous to keep him right."
state at luncheon, though perhaps it David seemed a little embarrassed, and would have been difficult in the whole began jerking his head about when his neighbourhood to find a more pertinent acquaintance of the morning, whom he comment on and illustration of the conhad scarcely noticed before, was intro stable's text than the poor old man duced by Miss Winter as “my cousin.” furnished, with his complaints about his
“I wish to do all I can for him," said own health and all he had to do and Tom, "and I'm very glad to have made think of, and everybody about him. It your acquaintance. You must let me did strike Tom, however, as very wonderknow whenever I can help;" and he ful how such a character as Katie's could took out a card and handed it to David, have grown up under the shade of, and who looked at it, and then said,
in constant contact with, such an one as “And I be to write to you, sir, then, her father's. He wished his uncle goodif Harry gets into trouble?”
bye soon after luncheon, and he and “Yes, but we must keep him out of Katie started again down the villagetrouble, even home-made ones, which she to return to her nursing and he on don't leave good marks, you know," said his way home. He led his horse by the Tom.
bridle and walked by her side down the “And thaay be nine out o' ten o aal street. She pointed to the Hawk's Lynch as comes to a man, sir,” said David, as they walked along, and said, “You I've a told Harry scores o' times.” should ride up there; it is scarcely out “That seems to be your text, David,” of your way.
of your way. Mary and I used to walk said Tom, laughing.
there every day when she was here, and “Ah, and 'tis a good un too, sir. Ax she was so fond of it.” Miss Winter else. 'Tis a sight better to At the cottage they found Harry, hev the Lord's troubles while you be Winburn. He came out, and the two about it, for thaay as hasn't makes wus young men shook hands, and looked one for theirselves out o nothin'. Dwon't another over, and exchanged a few shy
sentences. Tom managed with difficulty “Yes; you know that I agree with to say the little he had to say, but tried
to make up for it by a hearty manner. “Good-bye, then,” said Tom, holding It was not the time or place for any unout his hand, "and mind you let me necessary talk; so in a few minutes he hear from you."
was mounted and riding up the slope to“What a queer old bird, with his wards the heath. “I should say he whole wisdom of man packed up small must be half a stone lighter than I,” he for ready use, like a quack doctor," he thought, "and not quite so tall ; but he said, as soon as they were out of hearing looks as hard as iron, and tough as whip
“ Indeed, he isn't the least like a cord. What a No. 7 he'd make in quack doctor. I don't know a better a heavy crew! Poor fellow, he seems man in the parish, though he is rather dreadfully cut up. I hope I shall be obstinate, like all the rest of them.” able to be of use to him. Now for this
"I didn't mean to say anything place which Katie showed me from the against him, I assure you,” said Tom; village street." "on the contrary I think him a fine old He pressed his horse up the steep fellow. But I didn't think so this morn side of the Hawk's Lynch. The exhilaraing, when he showed me the way to tion of the scramble, and the sense of Betty's cottage.” The fact was that Tom power, and of some slight risk, which
em, Miss ?”
he felt as he helped on the gallant beast peat-cutting and turf-cutting, and many with hand and knee and heel, and the a deep-rutted farm road, and tracks of loose turf and stones flew from his hoofs heather and furze. Over them and and rolled down the hill behind him, through them went horse and manmade his eyes kindle and his pulse beat horse rising seven, and man twenty off, quicker as he reached the top and pulled a well matched pair in age for a wild ride up under the Scotch firs. “This was her -headlong towards the north, till a favourite walk, then. No wonder. What blind rut somewhat deeper than usual an air, and what a view!” He jumped put an end to their career, and sent the off his horse, slipped the bridle over his good horse staggering forward some arm and let him pick away at the short thirty feet on to his nose and knees, and grass and tufts of heath as he himself Tom over his shoulder, on to his back first stood, and then sat, and looked out in the heather. over the scene which she had so often “ Well, it's lucky it's no worse,” looked over. She might have sat on thought our hero, as he picked himself the very spot he was sitting on; she up and anxiously examined the horse, must have taken in the same expanse of who stood trembling and looking wildly wood and meadow, village and park, puzzled at the whole proceeding ; "I and dreamy, distant hill. Her presence hope he hasn't overreached. What will seemed to fill the air round him. A
the governor say? His knees are all rush of new thoughts and feelings swam right. Poor old boy,” he said, patting through his brain and carried him, a him,
no wonder you
look astonished. willing piece of drift-man, along with You're not in love. Come along; we them. He gave himself up to the stream, won't make fools of ourselves any more. and revelled in them. His eye traced What is it? back the road along which he had ridden'
A true love forsaken a new love may get, in the morning, and rested on the Barton
But a neck that's once broken can never be set.' woods, just visible in the distance, on this side of the point where all outline What stuff; one may get a neck set except that of the horizon began to be for anything I know; but a new love lost. The flickering July air seemed to blasphemy !" beat in a pulse of purple glory over the The rest of the ride passed off soberly spot. The soft wind which blew straight enough, except in Tom's brain, wherein from Barton seemed laden with her
gorgeous succession name, and whispered it in the firs over castles such as—we have all built, I his head. Every nerve in his body was suppose, before now. And with the bounding with new life, and he could castles were built up side by side good sit still no longer. He rose, sprang on honest resolves to be worthy of her, and his horse, and, with a shout of joy, turned win her and worship her with body, and from the vale and rushed away on to mind, and soul. And, as a first instalthe heath, northwards, towards his home ment, away to the winds went all the behind the chalk hills. He had ridden selfish morning thoughts; and he rode into Englebourn in the morning an down the northern slope of the chalk almost unconscious dabbler by the hills a dutiful and affectionate son, at margin of the great stream ; he rode peace with Mrs. Porter, and honouring from the Hawk's Lynch in the afternoon her for her care of the treasure which over head and ears, and twenty, a hun- he was seeking, and in good time for dred, ay, unnumbered fathoms below dinner. that, deep, consciously, and triumphantly “Well, dear,” said Mrs. Brown to her in love.
husband when they were alone that But at what a pace, and in what a night, "did you ever see Tom in such form! Love, at least in his first access, spirits, and so gentle and affectionate ? must be as blind a horseman as he is Dear boy ; there can be nothing the an archer. The heath was rough with matter."
“ Didn't I tell you so ?” replied Mr. sure Mary Porter is a very sweet, taking Brown ; "you women have always got girl, and—” some nonsense in your heads as soon as “I am quite of the same opinion," your boys have a hair on their chin or said Mr. Brown, “and am very glad your girls begin to put up their back you have written to ask them here." hair."
And so the worthy couple went “Well, John, say what you will, I'm happily to bed.
(To be continued.)
I was walking along a rather lonely My friend started, but immediately road, humming a tune to myself—a most recognised the voice. “Oh yes, thank indefensible habit, which I only name you, ma'am. I'm all right. Very much as it accounted for my being suddenly obliged. Good morning.” stopped by a civil voice
He recommenced his stopped tune, “Ma'am, if you please—”
and pursued his way with such deterI turned, and now first noticed a mined independence, that I felt as if young man who had just passed me by, more notice of him would be taking stepping out quickly and decisively, an unwarrantable liberty with his miswith a stick in his hand and a bundle on fortune. But his cheerful face quite his shoulder.
haunted me, and I speculated for a long “Ma'am, if you please, would you time what“ business” he could be about, direct me to —?" naming a gentle- and how he dared trust himself alone, man's house close by, which I was pro- the great wil ness of L don and ceeding to point out to him, when I per- its environs, with no guide except his ceived
that the young man had no eyes. stick. At last I remembered he might It was a well-featured and highly intelli- be one of the “travellers” belonging to gent countenance, with that peculiarly an institution I had heard of (and the peaceful expression that one often sees foundress of which, by an odd coincion the faces of the blind; but of his dence, I was going that day to meet) calamity there could be no doubt : the - the “ Association for Promoting the eyes, as I have said, were gone : the General Welfare of the Blind.” eyelids closed tightly over nothing. Yet I proceeded to pay my visit to this his step was so firm, and his general ap- lady—whose name, having been often pearance so active and bright, that a before in print, there can be no scruple careless passenger would scarcely have at mentioning here-Miss Gilbert, the detected that he was blind.
blind daughter of the Bishop of ChiOf course I went back with him to chester. To her superintendence and the door he named-in spite of his endowment, in conjunction with the polite protestations that there was not design and practical aid of another blind the least necessity" he could find it person, Mr. W. Hanks Levy, this instieasily”—how, Heaven knows :-also, I tution owes its existence. had the curiosity to lie in wait a few Laudatory personalities are odious. To minutes, until I watched him come praise a good man or woman for doing cheerily out, shoulder his big bundle, what he, she, or any other good person plant his stick on the ground, and walk recognises as a mere matter of duty, briskly back-whistling a lively tune, which, when all is done, leaves us still and marching as fast and fearlessly as “unprofitable servants," is usually annoythough he saw every step of the road. ing to the individual, and injurious to noble cause must be some noble person- from the other houses in this neighbourality-some one human being who has hood, except that outside its shop-door conceived and carried into execution there hung a picture not badly painted, some one idea, and on whose peculiar representing a room occupied by busy character the success of the whole un- blind work-people. The shop itself was dertaking mainly depends.
entirely filled with baskets, mats, brushes, Therefore, without trenching on the &c. And there one of the only four sacred privacy which ought above all to persons in the establishment who is not be observed towards women, I may just blind, was engaged in serving a few—far say that it was impossible to look on this too few-customers. little gentle-spoken, quiet woman, who, No "sighted”--to use the touching out of her own darkened life, had origi- word which they seemed to have coined, nated such a light to the blind, without these fellow-sufferers, in speaking of a feeling of great reverence and great us, as if the light of the eyes were humility. We, who can drink in form a great, peculiar gift—no “sighted ” and colour at every pore of our being, to person can enter this house of busy whom each sunset is a daily feast, each darkness without a strange, awed feel. new landscape a new delight, who in ing. To be in a place where everybody pictures, statues, and living faces beloved is blind! a blind housemaid to sweep have continual sources of ever-renewed and clean-and very
well it is done too : enjoyment-God help us, how unthank- a blind porter to carry messages: a blind ful, how unworthy we are !
attendant to show you through dim Miss Gilbert and myself arranged that passages, where you meet other blind I should visit her institution, in order people quietly feeling their way, into say anything that occurred to me to tent on their various avocations, and say about it in print. “For,” added she, taking no heed of you. It is like being “we want to be better known, because brought into a new kind of existence, we want help. Without more customers in the which at first you doubt if you to our shop we must lessen the work we are not an unwarrantable intruder. You give out, and refuse entirely the one feel shy and strange.
The common hundred and fifty applicants who are phrases, “ Yes, I see," or, " It looks so eagerly waiting for more, and meantime and so,” make you start after uttering living as they best can, in workhouses them, as if you had said something unor by street begging. And winter is natural and unkind. Only at first. Soon coming on, you know.”
you are taught to recognise that unWinter to these poor-not necessarily doubted fact, recorded by both sufferers belonging to the hardened pauper class, and observers, that of all God's afflicted in many cases neither unrefined nor un- ones there are none whom His mercy educated, since of the thirty thousand has made so cheerful, so keenly and blind in the United Kingdom nine-tenths easily susceptible of happiness, as the are ascertained to have become so after blind. the age of twenty-one. It was a sad We went to the little parlour, furthought—these one hundred and fifty nished, like the rest of the house, with poor souls waiting for work—not for the utmost simplicity-no money wasted, wealth, or hope, or amusement, simply as charities often do waste it, in useless for work : something to fill up a few elegancies, or in handsomely-paidofficials. hours of their long day in the dark, The only official here is Mr. Levy, the something to put food into their mouths director, to whose intelligence and ingeof their own earning, and save them from nuity the working of the whole scheme eating the bitter duty-bread of friends, or --which, indeed, he mainly plannedthe charity-bread of strangers. I arranged is safely consigned. Under his guidance to meet Miss Gilbert the next day, at —the blind instructing the seeing—we 127, Euston Road.
examined various inventions, some of It was a house in no wise different them his own, for conveying instruction