Incidents in the Life of a Blind Girl

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INCIDENTS

IN THE

'LIFE OP A BLIND GIRL

Chapter II

11 Dark lowers our fate, And terrible the storm that gathers o'er us."

Joanna Baillib.

" Sweet bud of the wilderness, emblem of all That is left to this desolate heart."

Campbell.

My father's work being in the village, lie was unable to come home more than three times a week, this made it rather lonely for us. After night we could see the lights from the Indian wigwams, scattered here and there through the woods. To you, perhaps, gentle reader, who have not travelled very far from home, this will seem a fearful sight ; but it was not so to us ; far pleasanter was it than to have looked out upon that dark forest with no vestige of living human beings near. When we had retired for the night we could distinctly hear the wolves howling ( terrifying indeed was the sound — I think I shall never forget it !

But a greater and more serious trouble than this was in store for us. The times becoming harder, my father's employer discharged several of his journeymen, him among the number. At this juncture of our affairs my mother tried to contrive how she could assist in the support of our family. She could make very pretty bonnets, therefore decided to go to the village and seek employment. The next morning she made the proposed effort, and in the evening returned, having met with excellent success. About a week following, father heard he could secure work in Jonesville, nearly forty miles from home. After his departure our only dependence was upon the feeble exertions our mother was able to make. "We got along pretty well for three weeks, when she was laid upon a sick bed. It was now the middle of a Michigan winter ; we had no wood to burn, save the limbs of trees my two little brothers could drag from the woods, and our provisions were getting very low. A week passed, yet mother grew no better; sister Jinnie, the eldest of us five, was now in her eleventh year. It was astonishing to note the womanly character exhibited in one so young. She was our mother's nurse, as well as housekeeper. There was no kind neighbor to

It come in and assist us, the nearest one being two miles distant, and the snow so deep, the weather so extremely cold, it was impossible to reach those who probably would have assisted us ; it was utterly out of our power to seek their aid, willingly as it might have been rendered.

At last our provisions gave out entirely, with the exception of a portion we had saved for our mother. Of this we did not inform her, notwithstanding her repeated inquiries.

" What are we to do for dinner ?" said my sister one day ; this was whispered in a low tone, so that it should not reach our mother's ear in the adjoining room. Brother William remembering that we had had potatoes in the cellar in the fall, replied : " Perhaps they had not all been eaten." We opened the trap-door and descended to the cellar, where, to our great joy, we found nearly a bushel of small potatoes, that had been thrown aside. We soon placed part of them over the fire to boil ; when they were cooked we all sat down and ate them with salt. I have never eaten a potato since that tasted as deliciously as did those.

We now had another trouble : the provision we had reserved for our mother was all consumed ; it distressed us to think we should be compelled to inform her how destitute we were, and she so ill ; a plan, however, occurred to us by which we could spare her this afflicting intelligence a few days longer ; each of us had a pet chicken, which we decided should be killed for mother ; sister's was the first appropriated, and in succession the others followed till all were gone.

The bushel of potatoes had quickly disappeared ; alas ! what were we to do ! Oh ! how anxiously we awaited our absent father's return. How often during that day did we go to the door to watch for him, eagerly hoping and longing to see his form in the dim distance! Bat alas ! all that met our earnest gaze were the huge banks of snow, and the dreary waste of desolation !

That day and night passed, never to be for gotten by me.

The next morning when my sister went up

stairs to perform her household duties, before

she had been there many minutes, we heard a

scream of delight. We all rushed up, that we

2*

18 MAKY L. DAY,

might ascertain what 'had taken place. There stood Jinnie with something in her hands. " What is it ?" " What is it ?" we all exclaimed in a breath. Grentle reader, what do you suppose it was? It was nothing more nor less than a bag of garden beans, m y mother had carefully dried during the summer for seed. Little did she dream they were to save the lives of her children. They were cooked, but lasted only a few days. Oar pet chickens had all been killed. The pain it cost me to part with mine is indelibly impressed upon my memory; but I had only to be reminded 'twas for my dear mother, and my childish sorrow at parting with my pet vanished, giving place to real delight, that I was able to contribute aught to her necessity or her comfort.

It now became absolutely imperative pur mother should be informed of the fact that all our provision had been consumed ; after laying various plans by which this sad intelligence should be conveyed to her, as we sat grouped around the fire, it was finally decided Jinnie should tell her. Our dear mother was not surprised at the information, but bore it with that

Christian resignation and patience which had -charcterized her throughout her sufferings.

She said if the road were sufficiently broken, Jinnie and Willie should go to the village and collect some money owing her by several ladies. Early next morning they started ; on their way they called at old Mrs. Smith's, a Quaker lady, and told her of our mothers illness. She said she would go right over and see if she could do any thing to relieve her. After getting well warmed, and having another comforter wrapped about their necks by kind Mrs. Smith, they again started for the village, which they reached safely. They called on the ladies, as directed, and each paid the amount due, and one filled two baskets with provisions and groceries. It was nine o'clock in the evening ere they reached home again. Mrs. Smith was there, as she had promised. During their absence another brother had been added to our number.

Jinnie, notwithstanding her long jaunt, prepared our supper from the store she had brought with her, sent by the kind Mend, from the village.

Chapter III

" Still when tlie prayer is said, For thee kind bosoms yearn, For thee fond tears are shed :

Oh ! when wilt thou return?" — Hemans. " Death found strange beauty on that infant brow, And dashed it out." — Hemans.

We had scarcely seated ourselves at the table, Mrs. Smith occupying our mother's wonted place, when our attention was arrested by a familiar footstep. "Did you hear that?" exclaimed my brother Charles, looking towards the door. " 'Tis some drunken Indian," responded Mrs. Smith — but we knew better, our hearts told us who it was. The door opened, and there, instead of the dark form of an Indian, stood our father, pale and emaciated. " Father,, dear father !" burst from the lips of every one, and in another instant we were clasped to his bosom. Releasing us and looking about him, he exclaimed : "Oh! where is your mother?" Mrs. Smith quietly took him to her room. T will not attempt to describe the scene there enacted ; the meeting was indeed one of mingled pain and pleasure.

He soon rejoined us, and we once more sat down to our evening repast, after which he explained his long absence. He had been confined to a sick bed five weeks, during which time he had sent us letters and money, neither of which we had received. We were all happy now, for father was not to leave us again that winter. He immediately ordered a plentiful supply of provision for the remainder of the cold season.

My mother's health rapidly improved, but mv father had contracted fever and ague, and was quite sick for several weeks. One day, while lying upon a lounge near the fire, and rocking the cradle wherein the babe lay, mother called to him, saying it had slept long enough. He rose to see if it was still sleeping, when he found its little eyelids closed in that slumber which knows no awaking, save in the arms of Him who hath said : " Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Oar baby brother was dead ! This was a terrible shock to my mother. We were sent immediately for good kind Mrs. Smith ; she robed it first in life, and then in death draped its little limbs in the garments of the tomb. The next day we bore 0117 angel treasure to the lonely graveyard, and placed him beneath the sod opposite the gently murmuring waters of the lake. The little mound was visible from our door ; methinks I see it now, a mere speck amid the snow-banks ; ere the morning came it was hid beneath a fleecy mantle ; for my mother's sake I was glad of this, for she sat gazing upon it from her window, till the snow had quite concealed it from her view.

Her health still continuing to improve, it was not long ere we had the pleasure of once more seeing her about the house. My father, also, had quite recovered, and things bade fair to assume a brighter aspect.

It was now the first of March, and the snow was rapidly disappearing ; we were very thankful for this, for the winter had indeed been a trying one to us. My father's health being entirely restored, he resolved upon returning to Jonesvilie to resume his work — he took me with Mm. His employer was a minister, one of those true souls we find here and there, in passing through the world. His family consisted of himself, wife, and two children. Little Mary North was indeed a lovely creature. We were the same age, The whole family welcomed father and myself heartily ; I enjoyed my visit of three or four weeks very much, still at times was very home-sick.

My father was a beautiful singer, and of an evening numbers of persons would collect to hear him, while at his work. He would set me beside him and sing for me till nine o'clock, when he would kiss me and send me to bed. This was a delightful way in which to spend my evenings.

A few years previous to this time Mr. North had found a pot of money buried in his garden. Mary and I would search daily, that we might find one also ; but our search was vain, and our golden dreams, like certain fabrics built in air, were doomed to prove visions, airy nothings only. How oft is happiness in life sought with as ill success as was sought by us the buried golden treasure ; too oft is it but a cheating

The day for my return home arrived ; Mary had become very dear to me, we were much attached to each other, and it seemed very hard we should have to part !

We never met again ; in hearing from and of her I thank God to have learned her life thus far has been a brighter and more fortunate one than mine.

It was a beautiful April day when we took the stage for homeward travel. The birds were singing gayly, the sky was bright; all earth was redolent with loveliness, the air, laden as it was with freshness, seemed fraught with joyousness. I too, with earth, and air, and sky, felt exuberant and cheerful, though I had just parted from my sweet friend Mary — for was I not seeking " home again ?" place than all others most dear, and was I not soon to greet the loved ones there ? Mother, sister, brothers ! My very soul was filled with ecstasy !

We arrived at home ; as I alighted from the stage, I was struck with the scene before me. Always greatly admiring Nature and its handiworks, I could but be impressed with the wild,

TIIE 13LIXD GIRL. 25

uncultured beauty spreading out so ■ lavishly ; its effect upon me still recurs to memory, though years have intervened.

I have never seen Italy's far-famed sky, but 1 do not think it could surpass that evening sunset. The king of day sinking into the bosom of Silver Lake, the earth carpeted with the modest, fragrant violet, and the luxuriant foliage of the tall oak, swaying to the gentle passing breeze, combined to form a scene of almost fairy-like enchantment.

When meditating upon the beauties of Nature, on which I have been permitted to gaze, my heart is filled with love and reverence for the Great Being who created them. But now to me —

" All Nature is a sealed book, Whose clasp I can not find ; It was not meant for me to read, For I am blind, I am blind !"

I found all well and happy at home. It being spring, the Indians, according to their custom, had built their wigwams near the lake shore. They might constantly be seen in their light canoes, employed in fishing, which occupa- 3 tion appeared to be their chief delight. Ono day, while my father was absent from home, having gone to the village, I was sitting on the door-step, when looking up, I saw seven gigan tic Indians coming down the road towards our house ; I was greatly alarmed, and in an instant sprang from ^he door into the house, and hid myself in a large oven. This was not the most comfortable hiding-place, but it was preferable to coming into contact with those wild, fiercelooking savages. I crawled near the door to watch their movements. They demanded something to eat; my mother told them she had nothing for them. On hearing this, one of them pointed to a steak which was being broiled, at the same time drawing his tomahawk from his belt and flourishing it over her head. She was very courageous, and raised the broom as if to strike him. Her bravery saved her life ; instead of killing her, they turned and left the house, yelling and shouting as far as they could be heard : " White man's squaw brave !" When they had gone, I crept from my hiding-place, so completely covered with ashes and dirt, my mother could scarcely recognize me.

Chapter IV

* She's gone ! forever gone ! The king of terrors Lays his rude hand upon her lovely limbs, And blasts her beauties with his breath !"

Dennis' Appius and Virginia. *' Goon Heaven ! what sorrow gloomed that parting day That called them from their native walks away."

Goldsmith.

My father who had been for some time trying Co sell his land, now found a purchaser, and we were destined to be on the wing again ; the necessary arrangements for a removal having been made, we bade adieu to our beautiful cabin home on the banks of Silver Lake, not without parting affectionately with our tried friend Mrs. Smith, and visiting for the last time thn grave of our baby -brother.

A few days and we were located in Jones* ville ; for two months every thing moved on pleasantly. We had almost begun to think our troubles over, but a heavy affliction was about to befall us. Mother was taken very ill one day while all of us were at school except sister Jinnie, who sent for us in great haste — our mother was dying ! We reached home in time only to receive her parting blessing. After embracing each of our little group, and bidding us be good children, loving God and one another, her pure spirit winged its flight back to Him who gave it. Our best earthly friend had left us ; young as we were, we deeply felt our loss, yet the burden of our woe we realized not until years had sped away, proving how great a void is created in a child's heart and life by a mother's death I The constant yearning for her tendernesses ; the quick sympathy she alone can give ; the caress of her soft hand in approval ; or even the mild rebuke softened and chastened, coming from her lips — these departed, life seems a very blank ; then speak ye kindly ever to the motherless, ye may have power to wile their hearts from sorrow by the magic influence of a smile.

Our dear mother died among strangers, yet not unmourned for ; by her pleasant and affable manners she had gained many friends who wept with us over her grave.

The time had now come for us to be sepa-

THE BLIND GIBL. 29

rated ; we were taken home and kindly cared for by friends of our mother until permanent arrangements could be made for us by our father. A lady, named Mrs. Benson, took me in charge, with whom I remained about eight months, during which time homes had been found for my brothers and sister, but as yet none for me. I shall not soon forget when my youngest brother was taken to his new home ; my father went with him and allowed me to accompany them — his stranger friends seemed quite fond of him ; this pleased my father very much, for he was desirous we should be comfortably and pleasantly situated. The hour came for us to part with my brother ; it was very sad to leave the little fellow, but three years old, among entire strangers. The lady of the house took him into the garden, so that we could go without his knowledge. When at some distance from the house I looked back and saw Howard still playing among the flowers, I had no thought it would be the last time I should ever see him, though I watched him with the intensest interest as long as the faintest outline of his sweet form was visiblie.

SO MARY L. DAY,

My father's employer sent him on business to a remote part of the country ; upon his return he told me he had secured a home for me with a wealthy family who had but one child, and he married. He said I should be quite a little lady, and also told me they were good religious people. I was perfectly delighted with my prospects. The day upon which I was to start arrived ; the place was about twenty miles distant. Julia Benson was to accompany me. My father placed us in the stage, then got in himself, saying he would ride part of the way with us. He bade me be a good girl, to love and obey the lady who was henceforth to be as a mother to me. I held a little basket in my hand, into which he put some money, and told me to look what he had given me. While examining the contents of my basket, my father vanished ; upon looking up, I discovered he had gone ; shortly after I saw him standing upon the steps of the hotel we had just left ; years passed, and many changes transpired, ere I met him again. In my lonely hours of musing, I sometimes recall the scene when, shortly after my dear mother's death he gathered us all around him, and talked of our approaching separation ; methinks I can plainly hear the expression still : " Children, you are all together now, but may never be again " Well and fitly spoken — we never were altogether again an undivided family !

About noon of the same day we came in sight of my future home ; it was one mile north of Homer, Michigan, and was a beautiful farm, well- cultured and picturesque, with commodious dwellings upon it. The stage halted at the gate, and we were met by an elderly gentleman who lifted me to the ground, at the same time saying : " Is this my little girl ?" "When he had led me into the house, I looked around expecting to see Mrs. Kuthven ; but my new friend told me my mamma (for such he wished me to call her) was sick, but that after dinner I should see her. Dinner over, I was conducted to her chamber. On entering the room, I stood perfecty stunned with disappointment. I had anticipated meeting a kind motherly person, instead of which I saw a cold, stern woman. As she bent her pitiless gaze upon me, I thought of my own gentle mother, and burst into tears. Upon leaving the room I heard her exclaim in

82 MARY L. BAY,

an angry tone : " I wonder if I am always to be bothered with other people's children !"

Time passed more pleasantly than I might have expected, in my new home. Mr. Euthven was \ ery kind to me, and tried in every way to render me happy and contented. I did not visit bis wife's room again. After a few days I was told she was coming down to dine with us. I can not portray the awful dread with which she inspired me. The day came upon which she was to join the family at dinner, and I think I never shall forget that dinner. I could not move without her halloaing at me in sharp, angry tones. I had never been spoken unkindly to before, and this treatment almost broke my heart. Her son, George, also treated me with the greatest disdain, appearing to regard me as something unworthy his notice. He did not like his parents to speak one kind word to me, and although he called himself a Christian and a gentleman, he would stand by and laugh when his mother would knock me down. At one time from one of her blows I became senseless ; when I recovered, I was lying upon the sofa, and she bathing my temples.

If they are living, and should chance to read this simple narrative, they will from it learn that the child they treated with such scorn and disdain, has scores of kind and loving friends. Oh ! what a pity it is Christianity should be so disgraced, and religion be a cloak to such hypocrisy ! Mr. Ruthven always treated me with the greatest consideration ; he never corrected me but twice, and then it was done in such a manner that I felt a high sense of his moral obligation to me had induced him to inflict the reprimand. The cause of George Ruthven's dislike to me was on account of the property ; he was afraid, were I to gain the affections of his parents I would receive a share. He tried every means to increase his mother's dislike to me.

When I had been ten months with this family I heard from my father ; he had been on bus* ness to Detroit for Mr. North. On his return, he tied his horse at the store-door, went in and settled with his employer, as was his custom, and left the house again. The horse was allowed to remain where my father had secured him, persons supposing he would return and attend to it ; but after some time had elapsed, Mr. North was 2* compelled to have the horse stabled, as my father did not again make his appearance.

It was from my friend Julia I learned my father's return to Jonesville, and of his sudden and unexplained departure therefrom. Julia, it will be remembered, accompanied me to Mrs. Buthven's ; after paying a visit of some length, she left me with my new acquaintances. Since that time she has married, and is now living in California, realizing golden dreams in that far-off pleasant land of precious ore. Cheering sunlight has shone o'er her way, while dark shadows have fallen upon mine ; but 'twas His will M who doeth all things well." I will not murmur.

** Behind the clouds is the sun still shining."

Chapter V

" I will not bow me to thoughts that- breathe despair." " Oh ! a cherubim Thou wast, that didst preserve me !"

Shakspeare.

" 0 tiger's heart wrapt in woman's form ! How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child ?" Shakspeare.

Upon learning that my father had left Jonesville, with no communication as to where it was his intention to go, I was treated with greater unkindness even than before. The only happiness I had, was in taking care of the beautiful Evelyn, George's little daughter. I felt she was the single exception in the family who cared aught for me, as I yearned to be loved. Mr. Ruthven was kind ; but his wife's dislike for me and annoyance at my presence, could but have its weight.

A lovely summer afternoon, Evelyn and I went searching for berries in a wood about a quarter of a mile from the house. We wandered on, unheeding how far from home we had gone, so occupied and engrossed were we in making garlands of flowers and admiring the gay plumage of the birds. Suddenly we were startled with the sound of distant thunder. I then observed how dark and threatening was the sky ; taking Evelyn by the hand, I hurried as I thought, towards home, but unfortunately selected the wrong direction. Every thing appeared strange and unfamiliar, although I had frequently been there before. At last we reached a marsh ; I fancied our home must be on the opposite side. Catching Evelyn up in my arms, I carried her across ; how I ever succeeded in doing so, I can not tell, so extremely was I frightened. The thunder rolled and boomed through the vaulted heaven, the forked lightning flashed with alarming fury ; it had grown quite dark, and the rain fell in torrents. Sinking well-nigh exhausted upon the wet grass, I took little Evelyn in my lap. As she nestled closely in my arms, she said : " Mamie, do you think the bears will eat us ?" I shuddered at the question, they were so numerous in that vicinity ; even the rain falling upon the leaves I imagined the tread of a bear.

THE BLIM) GIRL. 37

In about an hour the rain ceased, the moon arose, and we again started in search of home ; for three hours we wandered on through the thickly-shaded, dark, wet wood, ere we came in sight of a dwelling-house.

The one we at last reached was surrounded by a beautiful garden ; we went to the fence, but there was no one visible ; poor little Eva complained of being tired and sleepy ; I laid her down on the grass and she was soon asleep — although her couch was the damp ground, and her canopy the stars of the firmament above us.

I thought I would go into the house and ask that we might remain there the rest of the night ; but just as I was climbing over the fence the door opened, and a man came out ; he looked like a huge Indian ; I sprang from the fence, caught the sleeping child in my arms, and ran back into the woods.

Heavy impenetrable clouds had covered the moon, and we were in darkness again, the rain once more falling in torrents; we sat down under a tree, thinking we would remain there till daylight ; in an instant a vivid flash of lightning darted athwart the heavens, striking and shattering a tree not far from us. This shocked us greatly, and we immediately started back to the fence ; we had proceeded but a short distance, when we heard the sound of horns ; we knew some one was in search of us. Imagine our delight on meeting Eva's father with a party of neighbors who had joined to aid in finding us. He clasped Evelyn to his bosom, and turning to me said : " This is all your fault." Not withstanding his unkind expression and accompanying threats, his presence had never been so agreeable to me.

It was now three o'clock in the morning, and we were six miles from home. They carried the sleeping Eva in their arms, but allowed me to walk, weary, hungry, and faint. From the effects of this exposure I was sick several days, during which time I received little or no sympathy from Mrs. Kuthven ; if possible, she was more unkind to me than ever before. Oh I how

I envied other children who had parents to watch over, guide, and tend them ; but then

II our Father in heaven " keepeth the orphan as the waters in the hollow of his hand.

In the autumn, a blind gentleman came to board with us. He soon learned how severe they were to me, and often spoke decidedly in my behalf. I was frequently in the habit of leading him out for a walk, little thinking then I should some day have to be led. One day while laughing at a mistake of his, he chidingly said to me : " Take care, Mary, you may be blind yourself ere you die." How like a prophecy have the words of my old friend seemed !