REESE LIBRARY 
 
 .I- Tin 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 t-^fei-^ ^ 
 
 2-J/- &o? 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
"-^ graved W J.C 
 
INCIDENTS 
 
 IN THE 
 
 LIFE OF A BLIND GIRL 
 
 L. I) A.Y, 
 
 rabnait sf % gteglsnb Insiiintwit for l^t $linl>. 
 
 BALTIMORE: 
 PUBLISHED BY JAMBS YOUNG, 
 
 114 WEST BALTIMORE STREET. 
 
^ 
 
 
 ENTERED, Recording to Act of Congress, in the year 1 859, oy 
 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United 
 States for the District of Maryland. 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 IN offering this little volume to the public, and soliciting 
 for it countenance and patronage, it may be fitting to state, 
 the incidents narrated are facts simply given, with no 
 over-wrought coloring of fancy. The design, in its issue, 
 is one highly commendable to its author a laudable desire 
 to obtain a livelihood independent of those kind friends 
 who fain would render personal effort, in this respect, quite 
 unnecessary. 
 
 The beneficent can but favor such an effort, and tender 
 the most practical approval. Unto those whom God has 
 seen fit to afflict, is it not our duty to lend a helping 
 hand? They are travelling earth s beaten paths, as are 
 we ; if obscured the sun, shall we not drive away the 
 mists by kindly word or cheering smile ? 
 
 Of the numerous dispensations it is our lot to bear, that 
 of blindness seems, indeed, the most severe the helpless 
 ness and dependence it induces should appeal to every 
 heart. It is true, orbs of vision closed on light of sun or 
 moon, the more may celestial light shine inward ; yet, to 
 tread Earth s garden-paths, forever veiled the beauty of 
 
IV 
 
 sky or flower, is a heavy cross to bear. There are avenues 
 of happiness which afford intense enjoyment, forever closed 
 to the unfortunate who can not see the greatness of God 
 in tinting the violet s velvet lining, or in the delicate rose- 
 leafs mystic loveliness who may not gaze on his goodness 
 in arching the heavens with the beautiful covenant bow, 
 or in spreading the earth with a soil yielding, in unbound 
 ed luxuriance, herb, tree, fruit, and flower. 
 
 Wishing the little book God-speed, we commend it to 
 the consideration of the generous and sympathetic. 
 
 & S. R. 
 
gntiraiun. 
 
 REV. JISTO. McCROisr, D.r>., 
 
 la respectfully and gratefully inscribed this Memoir. 
 
 OFTEN unto her, of whose life-history it is a transcript, has 
 this cherished friend proven counsellor, guide, consoler ever 
 prompt to lend an ear, if sorrow palled the heart, and, with 
 words of pious cheer, to point from things that are to the 
 rich fruition of blessings in store for those who uumurnur- 
 ingly drink the cup He hath given. 
 
 God fashioned the eloquent lip to speak His praise, and the 
 tender heart to feel for the woes of humankind ever ma/ it 
 be, as now, thy holy office to portray, in burning words, fiia 
 omnipotence who reigneth from everlasting to everlasting, yet 
 of whom we are told, " Like as a father pitieth his children, 
 BO the Lord pitieth them that fear him." 
 
 This feeble tribute is affection s prompting, and with it b^ars 
 earnest petitions that the life which has heretofore been a 
 bright and shining light, may continue to grow brighter and 
 still brighter, till it be lost in the effulgence of glory, radia- tng 
 from the throne of the Most High. 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
 INCIDENTS 
 
 IN THE 
 
 LIFE OF A BLIND GIRL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " I WILL a round, unvarnished tale deliver." SHAKSPEARB. 
 
 " THE web of our life is a mingled yarn, made up of good 
 and ill together." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 GENTLE reader, although this will be a sad, 
 painful story, yet it is truthful. I was born in 
 Baltimore, Maryland, in the year 1836. My 
 father was a tin-smith by trade, and at the age 
 of twenty, married Sarah Henniman, a beautiful 
 girl of eighteen summers. She was the young 
 est of a large family, and so loved and caressed 
 tli at her yoilthful days passed like some fairy 
 dream. In her girlhood she was surrounded by 
 many admiring suitors, among whom was Dr 
 
G- , a very wealthy gentleman, whose offer 
 
 she rejected, preferring to share the fortunes of 
 nii A whom she loved with all the warmth and 
 ardor of her heart. 
 
 After her marriage her sister sent her a faith 
 ful colored servant, who remained with her 
 until after my birth. My father was a man of 
 pleasing address, and the sociality of his man 
 ner won for him scores of friends. Every op 
 portunity was offered him in Baltimore to have 
 realized for himself and family a fortune, which 
 he doubtless would have done, had it not been 
 for his roving disposition. He was ever im 
 agining he could double his means in some new 
 location. He left Baltimore for New- York when 
 I was but nine months old ; two months after 
 he sent for his family to join him. This was a 
 trying time for my mother, to leave her rela 
 tions and friends to go among strangers. Uncle 
 Jesse, mother s youngest brother, accompanied 
 us to the boat, carrying me in his arms. After 
 securing us every comfort procurable, he em 
 braced us all, and left with a fond adieu. 
 
 As we pushed from the dock, mother went 
 on deck to gaze back upon the city where dwelt 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 
 
 so many beloved friends, and where had been 
 passed so many happy hours. She covered her 
 face with her hands and wept. Little did she 
 think she was looking for the last time upon 
 the home of her youth. The Monumental City 
 quickly disappeared in the distance, and she re 
 turned to the cabin to watch over her four little 
 ones. With the details of this journey, I, of 
 course, am not familiar, but I can recall hearing 
 my mother say it was very fatiguing. In due 
 time, however, we reached our destination, and 
 were met by father at the wharf. He took us 
 to uncle Henry W. Deems , where we remained 
 a month. 
 
 Father then had an offer made him to go to 
 the far West, which he promptly accepted. We 
 were soon ready to start ; it was with delight 
 my mother left New- York, for the closeness of 
 its atmosphere had greatly impaired the health 
 of her children as well as herself. A long time 
 elapsed ere we reached our journey s end, the 
 conveniences for travel being then widely dif 
 ferent "to what they now are ; railroads were the 
 appliances of a later day. 
 
 Our first stopping-place was White Pigeon, 
 
10 MAIIY L. DAY, 
 
 Micliigan. The person who made father the 
 offer failed to meet his agreement, consequently 
 our little family were forced to depend upon his 
 labor as journeyman, and this in a newly-settled 
 country. We lived in White Pigeon six months, 
 when my father obtaining employment in Shcr- 
 mantown, we removed thither. Here we were 
 rather more comfortably situated than previous 
 ly. Mother, being unaccustomed to hard or 
 laborious work, felt greatly the loss of faithful 
 Aunt Patty, our servant, whom she had been 
 obliged to leave behind on account of her being 
 a slave. 
 
 After living in Shermantown six months, an 
 other brother was added to our number. About 
 this time father received some money from Bal 
 timore, with which he purchased, a tract of land 
 about thirty miles from Shermantown, beauti 
 fully situated on the sloping bank of Silver Lake. 
 The nearest town was six miles distant. Our 
 land was located on the main road. About a 
 hundred yards from the lake was a most romantic 
 spot a hill covered with noble forest trees, 
 sweet birds caroling joyously their lays, flitting 
 through the graceful foliage, every variety of 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. ll 
 
 wild flower bespangling the gentle ascent, with 
 winding paths leading to the summit, where 
 grew a gigantic oak, bowing its lofty head a? 
 though in reverence to Him who touched with 
 beaut}*- the cheek of the tiniest blossom bloom 
 ing in Earth s garden bower. The limbs of 
 this majestic oak bending low, took root again 
 and like the famed Banyan tree in India s far-oL 
 sunny clime, formed a beautiful arbor. 
 
 Our house was situated at the foot of this hill 
 With your permission, indulgent reader, I wil] 
 outline the home of the early settler in the fai 
 West. It is built of logs, two rooms below and 
 two above, a large open fire-place, the chimnej 
 of which is composed of sticks. 
 
 Our dwelling was rather better than that oi 
 most of the settlers. The logs were hewn and 
 well chinked in with clay. When ready for our 
 occupancy, mother left Shermantown with a 
 light heart, for she felt she was going to a home 
 of her own. 
 
 My first recollection is this removal. The 
 Indians had set fire to the surrounding wood 
 and prairie, and though very young, I distinctly 
 remember covering my face with my 
 
la 
 
 sha\v? to keep the smoke from my eyes. It was 
 a fri&l; tful though, a brilliant scene to behold 
 the ti v js and underbrush in flames, with groups 
 of red faces peering about in every direction. 
 But th y were friendly disposed, and insisted we 
 should stop at their wigwams and eat some roast 
 venisoi with them, to which father assented , 
 thinkic it best to keep on good terms with 
 them. They danced with delight that the "pale 
 face/ h s " squaw" and "pappooses," should sit 
 by theii fire and eat of their venison. They tried 
 to caresn and fondle me, but being very timid, I 
 kept close to mother s side. This created much 
 amusement among them ; my fear, however, van 
 ished ere we left them. 
 
 The next day we reached our new home, to 
 the joy and pleasure of all. After the arrange 
 ment of our little furniture with care, we were 
 really quite comfortable, more so than we had 
 been since we left Baltimore. It was now No 
 vember ; the beauty of our home in summer was 
 fast disappearing, giving place to autumn s 
 deeper, richer tints. The trees had changed their 
 verdant leafage for a reddened hue, and, though 
 still very beautiful, touched by the early frost 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 13 
 
 they seemed dreary and desolate, while the waters 
 of the lake beating against the shore seemed 
 mourning and wailing the departure of summer 
 and the approach of sturdy, ice-clad winter. 
 
 My mother often sang the touching lines of 
 " Home, sweet Home," her thoughts wandering 
 back to the sunny South, the land of her birth, 
 earth s most treasured spot. The very name of 
 Baltimore was melody to her heart 
 
MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " DARK lowers our fate, 
 And terrible the storm that gathers o er us." 
 
 JOANNA BAILLIE. 
 
 " SWEET bud of the wilderness, emblem of all 
 
 That is left to this desolate heart." 
 
 CAMPBELL. 
 
 MY father s work being in the village, he 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 yon, 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 
 ploasanter 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 howl 
 ing ; 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 
 
15 
 
 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 bon 
 nets, 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 de 
 pendence was upon the feeble exertions our mo 
 ther 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 bet 
 ter ; sister Jinnie, the eldest of us five, was now 
 in her eleventh year. It was astonishing to note 
 the womanly character exhibited in one sc 
 young. She was our mother s nurse, as well aa 
 housekeeper. There was no kind neighbor to 
 
1*5 
 
 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, not 
 withstanding 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 remem 
 bering 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 descend 
 ed 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 
 
. UNIVERSITY 
 
 THE BLIND 
 
 we had reserved for oui mother wasatt con 
 sumed ; 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 intel 
 ligence 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 disap 
 peared ; alas ! what were we to do ! Oh I 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 aad long 
 ing to see his form in the dim distance 1 But 
 alas ! all that met our earnest gaze were the 
 huge banks of snow, and the dreary waste of 
 desolation I 
 
 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 
 
 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. Gentle reader, what do you sup 
 pose it was ? It was nothing more nor less than 
 a bag of garden beans, my 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. Our pet chickens had all been killed. 
 The pain it cost me to part with mine is indel 
 ibly 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 our 
 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 sur 
 prised at the information, but bore it with that 
 
THE BLIXD GIRL. 19 
 
 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 Tier of our mother s 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 reach 
 ed 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, pre 
 pared our supper from the store she had brought 
 with her, sent by the kind friend from the - 
 village. 
 
20 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 OHAPTEE III. 
 
 " STILL when the 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. 
 
 E 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?" ex 
 claimed my brother Charles, looking towards 
 the door. " "Pis some drunken Indian," re 
 sponded 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 In 
 dian, 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. Eeleasing us and look 
 ing about him, he exclaimed : " Oh ! where is 
 your mother ?" Mrs. Smith quietly took him 
 
TIIE BLIND GIRL. 21 
 
 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 ex 
 plained his long absence. He had been con 
 fined 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 
 my father had contracted fever and ague, and 
 was quite sick for several weeks. One day, 
 while lying upon a lounge near the fire, and rock 
 ing the cradle wherein the babe lay, mother call 
 ed 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 Hea 
 ven." Our baby brother was dead ! This was 
 
*2 MAHY L. DAY, 
 
 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 our angel treasure to the lone 
 ly 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 glai of this, for she sat gazing upon 
 it from her window, till the snow had quite con 
 cealed it from her view. 
 
 Her health still continuing to improve, it was 
 not long ere we h.xd the pleasure of once more 
 seeing her about the house. My father, also, 
 had quite recovered, and things bade fair to as 
 sume a brighter aspect. 
 
 It was now the first of March, and the snow 
 was rapidly disappearing ; we were very thank 
 ful for this, for the winter had indeed been n 
 trying one to us. My father s health being en 
 tirely restored, he resolved upon returning to 
 Jonesville to resume his work he took me 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 23 
 
 with him. His employer was a minister, one 
 of those true souls we find here and there, in 
 passing through the world. His family con 
 sisted of himself, wife, and two children. Little 
 Mary North was indeed a lovely creature. We 
 were the same age. The whole family wel 
 comed 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 
 
2* 
 
 "ignis fatuus," deluding still and still delud 
 
 ing! 
 
 The day for my return home arrived ; Mary 
 had become very dear to me, we were much at 
 tached to each other, and it seemed very hard 
 \re 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 exuber 
 ant and cheerful, though 1 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 handi 
 works, 1 could but be impressed with the wild, 
 
TI1K 1<IASD GlilL. 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-filmed sky, but 
 
 I do not think it could surpass that evening 
 
 sunset. The king of day sinking into the 
 
 :n of Silver Lake, the earth carpeted with 
 
 modest, fragrant violc-t, and the luxuriant 
 
 iiage of the tall oak, swaying to the gentle 
 
 [Kissing breeze, combined to form a scone 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 scaled 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, 
 
 I built their wigwams near the lake shore, 
 
 v might constantly be seen in their li^ht 
 
 canoes, employed in fishing, which occupa- 
 
 3 
 
26 MAEY L. DAY, 
 
 tlon appeared 1o be their chief delight. One 
 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 
 bouse ; I was greatly alarmed, and in an instant 
 sprang from the 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, fierce- 
 looking savages. I crawled near the door to 
 watch their movements. They demanded some 
 thing 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 ; in 
 stead 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. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 27 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SIIK S gone ! forever gone ! The king of terrors 
 Lays his rude hand upon her lovely limbs, 
 And blasts her beauties with his breath !" 
 
 DKXNIS APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 * GOOD Heaven ! what sorrow gloomed that parting day 
 That called them from their native walks awav." 
 
 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 ne 
 cessary arrangements for a removal having been 
 made, we bade adien 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 tlio grave 
 of our baby -brother. 
 
 A few days and we were located in Jones 
 ville ; for two months every thing movsd cm 
 pleasantly. We had almost begun to think our 
 troubles over, but a heavy affliction was about 
 to befall us. Mother was tnken very ill OIK* day 
 
28 
 
 while all of us were at school except sister Jin- 
 nie, 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 Tlim who gave 
 it. OUT best earthly friend had left us ; young 
 as we were, we deeply felt our loss, yet the bur 
 den 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 ! 
 The constant yearning for her tendernesses; the 
 quick sympathy she alono 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 sor 
 row by the magic influence of a smile. 
 
 Our dear mother died among strangers, yet 
 aot unmourned for ; by her pleasant and affable 
 manners she had gained mar.y friends who wept 
 with us over her grave. 
 
 The time had now come for us to be sepa- 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
 TIIK i;i iM) UIUL. 1 
 
 " 
 
 rated , we were taken home and 
 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 lather went with him and allowed me to ac 
 company them his stranger friends seemed 
 quite fond of him ; this pleased my father very 
 much, for he was desirous we should be com 
 fortably 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 intensost interest as long as the faintest out- 
 tine of his sweet form was visiblic. 
 
 3* 
 
80 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 bat 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, say 
 ing he would ride part of the way with us. lie 
 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. Jn 
 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 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 81 
 
 of our iipproachin g separation ; methinks I can 
 plainly hear the expression still : " Children, y< >u 
 are all together now, but may never be again " 
 AVrll and fitly spoken we never were altogethei 
 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 commo 
 dious dwellings upon it. The stage halted at 
 the gate, and we were met by an elderly gentle 
 man 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, in 
 stead 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. DAY, 
 
 an angry tone : "I wonder if I am always to 
 be bothered with other people s children !" 
 
 Time passed more pleasantty than I might have 
 expected, in my new home. Mr. Euthven was 
 v cry kind to me, and tried in every way to ren 
 der me happy and contented. I did not visit 
 his 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 great 
 est disdain, appearing to regard me as some 
 thing unworthy his notice. He did not like his 
 parents to speak one kind word to me, and al 
 though he called himself a Christian and a gen 
 tleman, 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. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 38 
 
 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 hy 
 pocrisy ! Mr. Ruthven always treated me witt 
 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 ob 
 ligation to me had induced him to inflict the re 
 primand. The cause of George Ruthven s dis 
 like 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 busi 
 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, per 
 sons supposing he would return and attend to it ; 
 but after some time had elapsed, Mr. North was 
 2* 
 
34 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 (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. 
 Ruthven 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 "who doeth 
 all things well." I will not murmur. 
 
 " Behind tie clouds is the sun still shining. 7 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 35 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 " I WILL not bow me to thoughts that- breathe despair." 
 " OH ! a cherubim 
 
 Thou wast, that didst preserve me !" 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 " TIGER S heart wrapt in woman s form ! 
 How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child ?" 
 
 SlIAKSPEARE. 
 
 UPON learning that my father had left Jones- 
 ville, with no communication as to where it was 
 his intention to go, I was treated with greater 
 imkindness even than before. The only happi 
 ness 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 wander 
 ed on, unheeding how far from home we had 
 
00 MAKY L. DAY, 
 
 gon<* so occupied and engrossed were we in 
 makiug garlands of flowers and admiring the 
 gay plumage of the birds. Suddenly we were 
 btartled with the sound of distant thunder. 1 
 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 ap 
 peared strange and unfamiliar, although I had 
 frequently been there before. At last we reach 
 ed a marsh ; I fancied our home must be on the 
 opposite side. Catching Evelyn up in my arms, 
 
 1 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 light 
 ning flashed with alarming fury ; it had grown 
 }uite dark, and the rain fell in torrents. Sink 
 ing 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 vi 
 cinity ; even the rain falling upon the leaves I 
 imagined the tread of a bear. 
 
THE BLIND GIJIL. 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 com 
 plained of being tired and sleepy ; I laid her 
 down on the grass and she was soon asleep al 
 though 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 light 
 ning darted athwart the heavens, striking and 
 
38 MARY L. DA.Y, 
 
 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 dis 
 tance, 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 turn 
 ing to me said : " This is all your fault." Not 
 withstanding his unkind expression and accom- 
 panying 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 sym 
 pathy from Mrs. Kuthven ; if possible, she was 
 more unkind to me than ever before. Oh ! 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 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 89 
 
 board with us. lie 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." IIow like a pro 
 phecy have the words of my old friend seemed ! 
 
 Mr. Lee had lost his sight while studying law. 
 He had a kind, noble heart ; often has he taken 
 me upon his lap, and stroking fondly and ca 
 ressingly my hair, he would say in tones I well 
 remember : "Poor child, I pity you ; had I my 
 sight you should not remain here a day longer." 
 How I clung to him ! indeed, he seemed the 
 only friend I had in the world save the loving, 
 gentle Evelyn. 
 
 About two miles from Mr. Kuthven s was the 
 old Methodist meeting-house. It was here I used 
 to attend Sabbath-school and church. During 
 the winter protracted meetings were held, min 
 isters and members congregating from the dif 
 ferent parts of the country, the house always be 
 ing well filled during their continuance. One 
 
iO MAHY L. DAY, 
 
 beautiful Sabbath morning the entire family 
 went to church, leaving me to keep house and 
 prepare dinner. Mrs. Kuthven said I should 
 cook vegetables of various kinds, and gave me 
 numerous other directions, for she seldom al 
 lowed me idle moments even upon God s ap 
 pointed day of rest. I collected and prepared 
 as many vegetables as I deemed necessary, and 
 obeyed her other behests as nearly as I could 
 remember. 
 
 She returned from church accompanied by 
 several ministers, and other persons ; she looked 
 so good, so sanctified from all sin, it seemed im 
 possible she could ever treat me ill again. As 
 she came into the parlor, placing her hand on 
 my head, she said: "My daughter, have you 
 been lonesome ?" Oh ! how this kindness from 
 her made my heart palpitate. After having laid 
 aside her bonnet and shawl, she passed out to 
 see if I had done all she had ordered. I trem 
 bled lest something should have been left un 
 done. In a few moments she opened the door> 
 and called me in such sweet tones that I thought 
 she was well pleased with the manner in which 
 I had fulfilled my allotted task. She had 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
 THE BLIND 
 
 scarcely closed tlie door upon her guests before 
 her whole appearance changed ; her sweet mo 
 therly smile gave place to a dark, foreboding 
 frown; her voice that had been so kind and 
 gentle became severe and sarcastic ; she caugh 
 me by my hair and beat me, first on one side o 
 my head, and then the other. To prevent im 
 cries from being heard by the company in tht 
 parlor, she covered my mouth with her hand. 
 After she had exhausted her anger upon me, 
 she told me what had so incensed lu-r : I had 
 not prepared sufficient vegetables for dinner ! 
 
 This was the usual manner in which I was 
 treated by Mrs. Kuthven; yet the ministers who 
 partook of her hospitality that Sabbath day re 
 garded her as, a pattern Christian. True, indeed, 
 is the old saying : " You never know people till 
 you live with them." Daily and hourly inter 
 course must either exalt or sink in our estima 
 tion those thrown athwart our way. Give to 
 me for friends, not the loudly vaunting of good 
 works, but the timid trusting Christian who 
 " seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, 
 thinketh no evil" 
 
42 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " I LAY ill ; 
 A.nd the dark, hot flood, throbbing through and through me ; T 
 
 " I swooned; and as I died, 
 Or seemed to die, a soft, sweet sadness fell 
 With a voluptuous weakness on my soul, 
 That made me feel all happy." BAILEY. 
 
 " Friend after friend departs : 
 Who hath not lost a friend <" MONTGOMERY. 
 
 DURING the winter I walked two miles to 
 school, often through the deep snow. From 
 this and other exposures, when spring arrived 
 my health was very delicate. No one believed 
 me ill until one day I fainted and fell to the 
 floor. It was several days before I knew any 
 thing passing around me. When I did regain 
 consciousness, I learned my life had been de 
 spaired of by four physicians. Mrs. Ruth veil 
 was sitting by my bedside, weeping ; it was not 
 love for me, or sympathy, which caused her 
 tears, it was the recollection of her cruel treat 
 ment of a lonely, friendless child. They wero 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 43 
 
 tears of remorse and not of sorrow. Another 
 person was watching by me, good Elder Staples, 
 pastor of the little frame church, where it had 
 been my wont to go to listen to his words of 
 pious counsel. 
 
 He asked me if I was afraid to die. I told 
 him no; I wanted to die and go to Heaven, 
 where I might live forever with my mother. 
 He thought I was dying, and asked if there was 
 any friend I would like to see. I told him no 
 one but my father, brothers, and sister ; but 
 this was impossible, for they were far away. 
 Elder Staples then offered up a fervent prayer 
 for the motherless child, prayed that her soul 
 as it winged its flight might be united with that 
 of the pure, sainted angel-mother who had gone 
 before to that home " where the wicked cease 
 from troubling and the weary are at rest." He 
 thought not then that I should outlive him. 
 Dear departed friend ! he has gone to reap the 
 reward of his earthly labors, and to wear & 
 crown of glory at God s right hand. 
 
 Mr. Lee at this time proposed sending for an 
 old doctor with whom he was acquainted. His 
 suggestion was acquiesced in, and Dr. 
 
44 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 wtis immediately sent for; by evening he came. 
 
 il lt some one touch my hand ; upon opening 
 
 eyes, I saw bending over me an old man 
 
 \itli shaggy locks and stern visage; he was 
 
 , . i king his head, as if in doubt as to my case, 
 I > walked to the table, and taking his medi- 
 
 Mi-s from his saddle-bags, prepared a doso for 
 n . Ho turned and handed it to Mrs. Kuthven, 
 ; 1 the same time saying : " Give her this : it will 
 ither kill or make her better in one hour." 
 The mixture was given me, the doctor took the 
 n -wspaper and sat down to await the result. 
 Mr. Lee also was by my bedside, my band held 
 in his. By the termination of the hour the de 
 sired effect had been produced ; in a few days I 
 was able to sit up. 
 
 Different physicians had examined Mr. Lee s 
 eyes, and their opinion was, that the optic nerve 
 was affected ; and if operated upon skillfully his 
 sight might be restored. Accordingly he made 
 preparation to start for New- York, and place 
 himself under treatment of the famed oculist:, 
 
 Or. . The day of his departure arrived. 
 
 Lt was a great trial to me ; I felt as though I 
 were losing my only friend. They moved my 
 
THE BLIXD GIIiL. 45 
 
 chair into the porch, so that I could watch him 
 while in sight. After bidding me an affection 
 ate adieu, and giving me some good advice, he 
 was assisted to the carriage. I gazed earnestly 
 at the vehicle as it was borne swiftly over the 
 hills. I never saw my blind friend again; 
 shortly after his arrival in ISTew-York intelli 
 gence was received of his death. By God s will 
 earthly visions had been shut out from his gaze , 
 but in yon heaven he looketh ever on beauty 
 "it hath not entered into the heart of man to 
 conceive." 
 
 My health was now perfectly restored. About 
 this time Government sent the Indians to the 
 Rocky Mountains. Near where I lived was an 
 elevation called Black Hawk Ilill, on the sum 
 mit of which was an Indian trading-house, where 
 the swarthy savages used to .assemble by hun 
 dreds. The people came from the surrounding 
 country to see them dance and hear them sim? 
 their war-songs. One day Evelyn and I, acconi 
 panied by her nurse, went to witness their per 
 formances ; we had not been there long before 
 I was attacked with a severe headache, and pro 
 posed returning home ; but Eva wished to ro 
 
16 MARY L. DAY 
 
 main longer, so I said I would go alone. As I 
 hastened down the hill, not looking upon the 
 ground, I stumbled over a drunlssn Indian, ly 
 ing across the path. He instantly sprang from 
 his prostrate position, caught me by the hair, 
 pulled me to the ground ; then placing his knee 
 upon my breast, he raised his tomahawk, and 
 was in the very act of striking when his arm 
 was arrested by an Indian from the thicket close 
 at hand. After releasing me, he led the drunk 
 en fellow off to the trading-house. 
 
 It was several minutes before I recovered my 
 strength sufficiently to walk home, so terribly 
 was I frightened. Oh ! how often have I wished 
 when I have encountered severe trials, the In 
 dian s weapon had done its fatal work. How 
 much pain, sorrow, and affliction I should have 
 been spared 1 But then my Heavenly Father 
 preserved me, and his j udginent is unerring. 
 
 Nothing of importance happened the follow 
 ing summer and winter. I went to school as 1 
 had done previously ; Mrs. Ruthven and George 
 treated me with their usual unkindness. It 
 was now four years since my mother s death, 
 and I determined I would leave my iiiieonifprt- 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 47 
 
 able and unhappy home. I formed several plans, 
 none of which seemed available. I thought uo 
 one would believe my simple story, for the 
 Ruthvens had many friends, and were highly 
 respected ; but I was resolved to make my es 
 cape the following week. 1 knew I should have 
 difficulty in attempting this, for I should have 
 to complete all my arrangements, without ad 
 vice or assistance, and without the family hav 
 ing the slightest knowledge of my intention. 
 
 I visited all my favorite haunts, to take a 
 parting look. Near the house was a beautiful 
 creek, where I had often strayed when weary and 
 unhappy ; its gentle munnu rings and the beauty 
 of its water seemed to soothe me. It was a 
 branch of Great Grand River, which has always 
 been celebrated for the blueness of its waters. 
 The scenery about the creek was romantic and 
 enticing. About a quarter of a mile from the 
 house was a beautiful wood, approached bv a 
 path through the lane, bordered with wild flow 
 ers. The house was surrounded by a pardon 
 inid a large orchard indeed, a very Eden in the 
 wilderness was the spot, yet the serpent had 
 coiled himself amid the flowers, and 1 is poison- 
 
46 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 ing breatli mingled with, the fragrant odors 
 borne from the varied tinted blossoms. 
 
 A little way down the creek on its bank was 
 a plum tree. I called it mine ; it seemed so like 
 myself, so lonely, so desolate ; there it bloomed 
 and yielded fruitage with no other tree near. 1 
 \i^cd to think, beneath its branches should be 
 en y burial-place, that I might share its solitude. 
 My kind friend Mr. Lee and myself, how often 
 had we wandered to this spot, passing many 
 pleasant hours. The tree was now covered with 
 blossoms. Who would gather the plums when 
 ripened? and where should T be by the time 
 they lusciously depended from its branches ? 
 
 After visiting several other dear and familial 
 places, I returned to the house almost sorry I 
 had thought of leaving. But as soon as I met 
 Mrs. Kuthven, my regret vanished and my de 
 termination became firmer than before. 
 
 The next day was the Sabbath ; I went to 
 school as usual in the morning. As I sat in 
 my class I looked in the face of my kind teacher 
 and was almost on the eve of opening my heart 
 to her, and, telling her all, ask her protection. 
 [ thought of the rich and influential Kuthvens, 
 

 .UNIVERSITY 
 
 TIIK HUM* (JIKL. 
 
 and feared she would inform tliem and thus de 
 feat my plans. No ! I would keep my secret. 
 I was now ten years old, and could do almost 
 any kind of work. I would make my own liv 
 ing and be happy, which would surely be prefer 
 able to living miserably, as I now did. While 
 indulging in these thoughts school was dismissed. 
 After kissing my teacher good-by, I strolled 
 through the graveyard with many a longing 
 sigh that my head were pillowed beneath the 
 trrassy sod. I went into church, and listened to 
 Elder Staples for the last time. It se-jmsd the 
 best sermon I had ever heard him preach. How 
 t.r::o is it, "bbssings brighten as thev take their 
 flight." 
 
 As I rode away at the close of the service, 1 
 gazed earnestly and fondly at each familiar ob 
 ject, and could scarce restrain my tears ; yet 
 
 " Why should I weep ! to leave the vine, 
 Whose clusters o er me bend 
 The myrtle yet oh ! call it mine ! 
 The flowers I loved to tend." 
 
 Is it strange the heart should yearn towards 
 the inanimate in Nature, and hold sweet con 
 verse with rivulet, tree, or flower, if closed 
 3 
 
00 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 against us seem all sympathy of human kind ? 
 The heart thrown back upon itself will turn to 
 Nature and spend its sweetness there. 
 
 " flowers which I bred up with tender hand! 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount?" 
 
THE BLIXD GIRL. 6) 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 M I FLY like a bird of the air 
 
 In search of a home and a rest ; 
 A balm for the sickness of care, 
 A bliss for a bosom unblest." BYRON. 
 
 "FROM this unhappy palace let us fly, 
 But whither shall we leave our misery ? 
 Who to the unfortunate will kind appear, 
 The wretched are unwelcome every where." 
 
 CROWXE S ANDROMACHE. 
 
 THE next morning I prepared for school, tied 
 up a few articles of clothing, and concealed 
 them under the fence near the road. When 
 starting I kissed Eva. In doing so I could scarce 
 restrain my tears. She had indeed, infused me 
 with a fortitude from Heaven to bear up against 
 the ills that beset my path. She was the one 
 star of my life, and it was a great trial to part 
 from her. 
 
 After having travelled five miles, I thought 
 I could with safety, inquire for employment 
 I entered a house and asked for work. The 
 
52 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 lady looked at me, and said I was too small and 
 delicate to do much work. She inquired my 
 name, and I gave her my own family name, 
 thinking there would be no danger, as I had 
 been known ever since living with them, by the 
 name of Ruthven. She told me she had no 
 thing for me to do. The next place I came to, 
 T saw a lady sitting at the window, whom I 
 thought I had seen before, and as I did not wish 
 to meet any one with whom I was acquainted, 
 for fear of being conveyed back to Mrs. Kuth- 
 ven s, I passed by without stopping. At a third 
 house where I made inquiry, I met with no bet 
 ter success than at the first. 
 
 I travelled on till nearly dark, becoming very 
 much frightened lest I should have to remain 
 out alone all night. Seeing a farm-house near, 
 I went to it and asked that I might be sheltered. 
 Upon entering I found myself in a comfortable 
 sitting-room, where the family had assembled for 
 tea. This happy scene made me keenly feel my 
 friendless condition. I tried to speak, but my 
 voice failed, and sinking into a chair, I sobbed 
 aloud. They all gathered round me, and Mrs. 
 Palmer (for that was the lady s name) took both 
 
T1IK HI.l.M) r.lRL. 53 
 
 1113^ hands in hers, and kindly asked the cause 
 of mv sorrow. It was a long time before I could 
 speak, but when I could I told them my painful 
 story. Upon finishing, I saw tears of sympathy 
 in every eye, and I felt cheered when Mrs. Pal 
 mer told me, though she did not need my ser 
 vices, I should remain with her until I found 
 a good home. 
 
 I had been here but a few days, when the 
 family received intelligence of the death of a 
 son and brother at Grand Kiver. They were 
 all going there, and said if I would like to go, 
 they would take me with them ; thinking it 
 probable they would be able to procure me a 
 home, I gladly acceded to their kind offer. I 
 thought too, this would remove me farther from 
 the Ruthvens, and one part of the world was 
 as agreeable as another, so that I had a home. 
 
 I was much gratified with the scenery of the 
 country through which I passed. At the end 
 of two days we reached Marshall. Mr. Palmer 
 had a friend living there, with whom he re 
 mained the night. The next morning, the gen 
 tleman s wife remarked she knew a lady living 
 four miles distant, who wanted a little girl ab^ut 
 
54 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 my age for company, as her daughters were all 
 away at school. Mrs. Palmer thought I had 
 better avail myself of so favorable an oppor 
 tunity offered on such pleasing terms. With 
 regret I bade them all adieu, for they had been 
 very kind to the lonely wanderer. 
 
 After they had gone Mrs. Simpson took me 
 to her friend, Mrs. Stilings ; this lady s appear 
 ance was very prepossessing. When Mrs. 
 Simpson had told her my history, she came to 
 me, and taking off my bonnet, said : "I was 
 just the little girl she wanted to keep her com 
 pany while her children were away at school." 
 
 1 had only been with Mrs. Stilings a few days, 
 when she received a letter informing her of the 
 illness of her daughter in Vermont, and desir 
 ing her to come on immediately. More trouble 
 was in store for me. Mrs. S. was going to send 
 for her daughters at school to return home, and 
 then I should no longer be desired. She told 
 me her pastor required a little girl as nurse, and 
 possibly I would suit, and that they were good, 
 kind persons. 
 
 In three or four days Mrs. S. was ready to 
 start for Vermont ; her daughters arrived the 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 55 
 
 night before her departure. They wer* both 
 lovely girls. The day following I again f tarted 
 out into the cold world in search of a home. 
 Mr. Pierson lived about a mile from Mits. Stil- 
 ings ; the house was about a quarter of a irale 
 from the main road, on a rise of ground- As I 
 talked up the lane, very picturesque w> the 
 scene before me; the house was surrounded 
 with locust trees in full blossom ; the v/indows 
 and porch were gracefully shaded with wood 
 bine. The garden was full of sweet brier, rose 
 bushes, and flowers of every variety. I stood 
 still, as though enchanted by the beauty before 
 me, and really forgot my sad errand there. But 
 the rough voice of the gardener soon brought 
 to my recollection again my forlorn situation, 
 as he exclaimed: "What do you want here, 
 girl ?" I told him I wished to see Mrs. Pierson. 
 He said, " She was in the house," at the same 
 time looking at me as if he wondered what I 
 could want with her. 
 
 I pulled the bell with a trembling hand, and 
 was soon ushered into the parlor by a servant 
 A lady entered; in her manner haughtiness 
 1 K-nded with a certain show of kindness. 1 
 
58 MARY L. DAT, 
 
 slated my business, also, that I had lived with 
 her friend Mrs. Stilings. She said I should 
 come and live with her the next week. Upon 
 leaving I asked permission to look at the flowers, 
 which privilege she granted. After having en 
 joyed this pleasure awhile, I retraced my steps 
 to Mrs. Stilings with a lightened heart, for I had 
 once more a home. 
 
 The next week, according to engagement, I 
 undertook my duties at Mrs. P s. I had been 
 there but a clay or two, when she was taken 
 very sick ; just at this time the servant left. It 
 was well I knew how to work, for with Mr. P. s 
 arssistance, I had to do all that was to be done. 
 Eveiy night it would be twelve o clock before I 
 laid my head upon my pillow. I would then 
 cry myself to sleep, my limbs aching, and in 
 deed my whole body weary and full of pain. 
 Four weeks things went on in this way, Mrs. P. 
 unable to attend to any of her domestic duties. 
 
 One Saturday evening, after I had completed 
 all I had to do, Mrs. P. having recovered from 
 her illness, I asked permission to go over to 
 Mrs. Stilings. My request was granted ; when 
 I reached there it was dark, they were afraid to 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 57 
 
 nave me return by myself, and there was no 
 one to accompany me, so they persuaded me to 
 remain all night, telling me Mrs. Pierson would 
 not care. It was late the next morning before 
 we arose, and the girls begged me to go to 
 cl uirch with them. I yielded to their entreaties, 
 and was soon neatly dressed from their ward 
 robes. Service over, I thought as I had spent 
 so much of the day away from home, I would 
 stay till evening. When I reached Mrs. P. s 
 tea was over, and I could see nothing of her, 
 for she had retired to her room. In the morn 
 ing I found she had another girl assisting her to 
 prepare breakfast. I went to slice the bread, 
 when Mrs. P. caught me by the arm, saying in 
 a very decided manner : " I do not wish you 
 ever to do another thing in my house/ I at 
 tempted to explain my absence to her, but she 
 would not hear it, but told me " to leave her 
 house." I told her I had no home, and asked 
 her what I was to do. She said : " She did not 
 care it was not her look-out." 
 
 I went to my room, and throwing myself into 
 a chair by the open window, gave myself up to 
 harrowing, painful thoughts What shall I do? 
 3* 
 
58 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 Where shall I go ? Who next will give me a 
 home ? father ! why do you leave thus alone 
 and friendless your child? Why not come to 
 me? 
 
 While thus musing, Mrs. P. sent for me to 
 come to breakfast, but I could eat nothing in 
 her house after she had spoken so unkindly to 
 me. I tied up my little bundle of clothing and 
 was soon ready for another start. I went to 
 Mrs. P., and asked her to pay me for what I 
 had done; she gave me two dollars, saying: 
 " That was more than I had earned." I left the 
 house, not knowing where to go ; sitting down 
 on a log by the roadside, and gazing up and 
 down its length as far as eye could reach, my 
 heart grew sick, for I knew that in either direc 
 tion there was no one to care for me. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 69 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "GKICEROUS and righteous is thy grief, slighted child of sen. 
 
 sibility ; 
 For kindness enkindleth love, but the water of indifference 
 
 quencheth it ; 
 
 Thy soul is athirst for sympathy, and hungereth to find af 
 fection." MARTIN T UPPER. 
 
 " OH ! dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 
 Irrevocably dark, total eclipse, 
 Without all hope of day !" MILTON. 
 
 " KNOW, he that 
 
 Foretells his own calamity, and makes 
 Events before they come, twice over doth 
 Endure the pains of evil destiny." DAVENANT. 
 
 IT was a lovely June morning, the birds were 
 merrily caroling their lays in the tree above my 
 head ; scattered here and there at my feet was 
 the beautiful wild pink, and not far off a rose 
 bush laden with its fragrant blossoms which at 
 another time I should have gathered and placed 
 in water ; now I plucked and threw them fiom 
 me, so mocking seemed they in their beauty. Yet 
 
60 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 the voice of the sweet birds raising high their 
 tuneful notes, cheered me, and I arose from my 
 seat by the roadside to continue my wanderings, 
 but my brain reeled and my limbs refused to sup 
 port me. When again conscious, I found my- 
 Felf upon a bed surrounded by curtains ; draw- 
 Ing them aside and looking out, every thing ap 
 peared new and strange ; there was no person 
 in the room. I made an effort to rise and walk 
 to the window, but I was too weak ; just at this 
 moment a lady entered. I asked her where I 
 was ; a pleased expression passed over her coun 
 tenance upon finding me able to make inquiries 
 concerning myself. She informed me I had 
 been quite ill for more than a week, but that I 
 had found friends, and they had taken good care 
 of me. 
 
 I asked how I came there, but Mrs. Downly 
 refused to tell me until I was stronger. In two 
 weeks I was quite well again, when I learned 
 the particulars of my illness. Mr. Downly, while 
 passing in his carriage, saw me lying on the 
 ground ; he thought me dead, but upon examin 
 ing my pulse, found I had fainted. He lifted me 
 into his carriage, and conveyed me to his wife. 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
 TUB BLIND GIRL. 
 
 A physician being called in, lie pronounced my 
 disease congestion of the brain, caused by some 
 great shock to my nervous system. 
 
 My new friends, as may be supposed, were 
 anxious to learn my name and history, which, 
 when recovered, I narrated to them, not omit 
 ting Mrs. P. s treatment; at this they were 
 greatly surprised, for knowing her well, they had 
 not thought her capable of so much harshness. 
 They had believed her a Christian, one who re 
 vered and kept the holy injunctions laid down 
 upon the sacred pages of the book of books. 
 Mrs. Downly said I should remain with her until 
 I was eighteen, at which time I would be better 
 able to take care of and provide for myself. 
 
 The rest of the summer passed very pleasantly. 
 Mr. and Mrs. D. were kind, and I felt a guiding 
 Providence had instructed my steps towards 
 their door. But a greater trial than any I jad 
 as yet endured was in store for me. It was now 
 the last day of August. I was sitting at the front- 
 window admiring the beautiful sky, so clear, so 
 apparently transparent, one might have fancied 
 they could have gazed through it into the far- 
 beyond. So pleasant was it I turned from the 
 
62 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 wiixlow a,ncl thought to enjoy a walk in the gar 
 den. Upon opening the door, I was greatly as 
 tonished to see rising rapidly in the distance, 
 one of the blackest clouds I had ever beheld. 
 While watching its approach and heavy gather 
 ing masses, I called Mrs. Downly to come and 
 look at it ; she said there would be a violent 
 thunderstorm, and we hastened to close the win 
 dows and doors securely. 
 
 I still stood watching the heavens, changed as 
 they were ; there was no sound of thunder, no 
 Sash of lightning. Little thought I that dark 
 portentous cloud would be the last my vision 
 would rest upon Like a thing of power, it 
 rtalked through die sky and then disappeared, 
 Contrary to OUT expectations no rain followed. 
 I am not rjiyjistitious, but I have sometimes 
 thought \rt a mighty moving shadow was a pre 
 monition of the terrible cloud about to settle 
 <.pon the horizon of my life burying all 
 in thick darkness. 
 
 Towards evening of that long to be remem 
 bered day, I was attacked with severe pain in 
 my eyes, yet I could not discover that they 
 looked differently from what they usually had. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 63 
 
 The light of the candle caused me great pain, 
 and before retiring I observed the lids were very 
 much swollen. I suffered intensely with them 
 that night, and by the morning they were pain 
 fully inflamed. I had constantly to be wiping 
 them to be able to see at all. They continued 
 in this way until noon. 9 I went to the looking- 
 glass, and after wiping them about five minutes 
 I could see distinctly. They then closed, and in 
 less than twenty -four hours I was blind ! forever 
 blind ! 
 
 The doctor was sent for; he prescribed a lotion, 
 the application of which caused acute pain, and 
 seemed to afford little or no relief indeed, it did 
 more harm than good. 
 
 Every neighbor far and near advised a remedy, 
 a number of which were tried during the follow 
 ing two weeks, my eyes still continuing to grow 
 worse. Finally, a lady who in riding out was 
 caught in a storm, and came into our house for 
 protection, offered to effect a cure if I would re 
 turn home with her. Mis. D. informed her of 
 rny friendless situation. Mrs. Weller said she 
 
MARY L. DAY, 
 
 take me with her and make every effort 
 to h ive my sight restored ; and that I should 
 remain with her as long as I desired. We 
 stalled ; a seven miles drive brought us to 
 Marshall. It was here Mrs. Palmer had sent 
 me out alone and unprotected six months pre 
 vious. How great a misfortune had befallen 
 me in that time ! Mrs. W. treated me with 
 every kindness, and employed all the means in 
 her power to effect the restoration of my sight, 
 but in vain ; the inflammation instead of abating 
 continued to increase. 
 
 When I had been with Mrs. W. a month, the 
 whole family was taken sick with the ague and 
 fever ; so ill were they, one could not wait upon 
 the other, and worse than all, we had no means 
 of support, for we depended upon Mr. W. s 
 labor, and he was prostrated with the chills. 
 Their parents lived about twenty miles in the 
 country, and they were compelled to go home 
 to them to be taken care of. Mrs. W. said she 
 would take me with them, and we all set out 
 for Clarence It was now the last of October. 
 
 We had not travelled many miles before Mr. 
 and Mrs. Weller were attacked with chills ; the 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 65 
 
 jolting of the carriage and tlie heat of the sun 
 had given me a violent nervous headache. Mr. 
 W. was so ill he could scarcely drive. It was 
 quite dark when we reached his mother s door, 
 The old lady came out and helped one after an 
 other from the carriage. Upon seeing me she 
 asked : " Who is this you have with you ?" Mrs. 
 W. told her I was a little blind girl who had 
 been living with them, to which information 
 her mother replied : " Well, I think you had 
 enough of your own to bring home sick without 
 other people s." At the same time she was as 
 kind to me as to her own children, and lifted 
 me as tenderly from the carriage. I did net 
 wonder at her expression after I had entered the 
 house ; her daughter and husband and child 
 were lying sick, having arrived the day before. 
 As soon as we had taken off our bonnets, the 
 old lady made me lie down while she bathed 
 my head and temples with cold water, and placed 
 a soothing poultice on my eyes. I can not por 
 tray the agony of dependence I experienced that 
 night ; my friends were kind, very kind, but I 
 had no claim upon them. Their acts of tender 
 ness and consideration caused my tears to flow 
 
ti6 MAUY L. DAY, 
 
 and my heart to aclie with, a keen sense of deso 
 lation. But though 
 
 " The reed in storms may bow and quiver, 
 Twill rise again ;" 
 
 while the oak of a century may be riven by a 
 single blast. 
 
 We were one mile from Mrs. Weller s father s, 
 and on the morrow we went there to remain for 
 a while. Arrived at this second destination, we 
 found Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. "WVs mother, quite ill. 
 Mr. C. was a Quaker ; he took me by the hand 
 and said, " I am sorry for thee, my dear," but 
 his wife, said : " She did not know what they 
 brought me with them for." I did not mind 
 her saying this, she was quite an invalid, and I 
 thought when she was better she would feel less 
 annoyed at my being there. Mr. C. was ex 
 tremely kind, and tried in every way to prevent 
 my feeling uncomfortable or dependent. He 
 said he thought he could cure my eyes, and after 
 he had consulted the physician of the place, he 
 would do what he could. The next day the 
 doctor came ; he directed me to be kept in a 
 dark room for four weeks, with bread and mo 
 lasses as diet ; besides this, I had every second 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 67 
 
 day to undergo an operation upon my eyes giv 
 ing me the most intense and excruciating pain. 
 
 Just at this time another physician hearing of 
 my blindness, called to examine my eyes ; upon 
 inspection he gave it as his opinion they could 
 be cured, and my sight restored in three weeks. 
 I was willing to endure any amount of suffering 
 to be able once again to see. They were so sen 
 sitive, I could not bear to touch them with the 
 softest handkerchief. 
 
 The doctor prepared a compound of dissolved 
 alum and rum, and raising the eyelid applied to 
 the eyeball a linen cloth saturated in the wash ; 
 this was so painful, I fainted while submitting 
 to it. After I recovered I would not let him 
 touch the other eye, which made him very an 
 gry, and he cursed me bitterly. Upon leaving 
 the house I heard him say : "Ihope she will nevei 
 see /" He has had his wish ! I have never seer 
 aught above or around me since that time. 
 
 " With the year 
 
 Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer s rose, 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
 But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
 Surrounds me." Mi I/TON. 
 
CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 I STRIVE to sing and smile, but ah ! there presses 
 A gloomy pall upon me I am blind." AMELIA WEI.BT 
 
 A BE A M of comfort, like the moon through clouds, 
 
 Gilds the black horror, and directs my way." DRTDEN 
 
 " BE strong to hope, Heart ! 
 
 Though day is bright, 
 The stars can only shine 
 
 In the dark night." PROCTOR. 
 
 "AND whispers are heard full of Nature and Truth, 
 Saying : Don t you remember ? " ELIZA COOK. 
 
 As I have before stated, Mr. Clarke had said 
 he could work a cure for me ; the efforts of the 
 two doctors having failed, he thought he would 
 at least try and allay the inflammation. 
 
 He went to the woods and dug some roots ; 
 of them he made tea, which I was to drink, also 
 to apply externally as a wash. In two weeks I 
 was greatly relieved, the inflammation had dis 
 appeared, yet I could not see. So great bless 
 ing was denied me, and it became my duty to 
 
THE BLIND (ilRL. 69 
 
 bow to His will who, had it been best for me, 
 could have decreed : " Keceive thy sight." Life 
 would indeed, have known less of trial, had my 
 vision been restored, but His ways, though in 
 scrutable, are wise, and I fain would with an 
 unmurmuring heart submit to that which he ha ; 
 seen fit should befall me praying : 
 
 u Wisdom at one entrance, quite shut out, 
 
 So much the rather, thou Celestial Light, 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 Irradiate, there plant eyes, all must from thence, 
 Purge and disperse." 
 
 Mr. "VVeller finding there were no hopes of 
 mv regaining my sight, grew very weary of me. 
 He and Mrs. Clarke were constantly telling me 
 how dependent I was, sometimes treating me 
 with the greatest unkindness, and threatening 
 to send me to the poor-house. This terrified 
 me greatly, as I had always imagined it a dark, 
 dismal prison. In this part of the country 
 there were officers appointed to look after the 
 sick and the friendless, and if a certain amount 
 would cover their necessities and the services of a 
 physician, these were rendered ; if not, they were 
 sent to the almshouse. To one of these officers 
 
70 MARY U DAY, 
 
 Mr. "Weller applied in my behalf. A few days 
 after, while lying upon the sofa, two gentlemen 
 came in and inquired for me. The truth flashed 
 upon my mind. I begged and entreated them 
 not to take me to the poor-house. Mr. Cook, 
 one of the gentlemen, lifted me from the sofa 
 and held me caressingly and tenderly in his 
 arms, quieting my fears by telling me " he was 
 not going to take me there, but that he had 
 brought a doctor to examine my eyes." This 
 was done, but the result was futile he could 
 but decide they were incurable. 
 
 I clung to Mr. Cook, afraid he would leave 
 ine. I told him how unwelcome, and what a 
 burden I was considered by those with whom 
 he found me. He asked if I would like to go 
 home with him. I could only answer with a 
 flood of tears, not of grief, but of overflowing 
 joy and thankfulness. He lifted me into the 
 carriage, and we drove to his home. It was 
 now the 15th day of January, and I was in 
 my twelfth year. I had been blind three 
 months. Late in the afternoon we arrived at 
 oar journey s end. Mr. C. conveyed me from 
 the carriage to the door, where we were met by 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 71 
 
 his wifr. She took me kindly by the hand, 
 while Mr. C. told her who I was, saying: 
 " Fannie, I have brought this poor child home 
 to live with us ; we have seven children, but 1 
 think we have bread enough for them and her 
 too ; take her, dear Fannie, and be as a mother 
 to her." I could feel that she was weeping tears 
 of sympathy for me. Taking me by the hand, 
 she led me into the warm parlor and seated me 
 in a cushioned rocking-chair by the fire. She 
 said I was " too thinly clad for that season of 
 the year, and it was a wonder I had not frozen, 
 so scantily supplied." 
 
 She told me she had five daughters and two 
 sons, and just then they came bounding in, a 
 band of joyous children. They were surprised 
 to see me, but their mother informed them who 
 the little stranger was, and that she was going 
 to live with and be one of their family, and 
 they must love me as a sister. They kissed me 
 affectionately, and divided with me their toys 
 Benjamin, the oldest of the group, tried in every 
 way to amuse and entertain me. Such kindness 
 was move than I could bear, and tears would 
 come in defiance of all effort to restrain them. 
 
/2 MARS L. DAY, 
 
 Tlie next morning I found a suit of new and 
 warm clothing prepared for me. After 1 Lad 
 dressed, and Mrs. C. had carefully curled my 
 hair, I was much improved in appearance ; so 
 great change had a single day with my new 
 friends made in me. 
 
 To employ my time, it was proposed I should 
 learn to knit ; at first I thought this impossible 
 as I could not see, but they persuaded me to try. 
 Often when I would become impatient at my 
 slow improvement, and almost in vexation, 
 would toss my knitting from me, Mrs. C. would 
 pick it up, repair my errors, and cheerfully say 
 to me : " Mary, 
 
 u If at first you don t succeed, 
 Try, try again. " 
 
 Her sweet and encouraging tones would in 
 spire me with a still more earnest desire to ac 
 complish my task. In about a year I learned 
 to knit a pair of stockings, and I assure you it 
 was no small gratification to me, my acquired 
 knowledge. 
 
 The children were all fond of reading ; no 
 thing gave them greater pleasure than to read 
 
THE ULiXl) GIRL. 78 
 
 aloud to me. Whenever Benjamin found a 
 book he thought I would like, he would await 
 some opportunity when I could listen while he 
 afforded me so agreeable a pastime. 
 
 I became so accustomed to the house and 
 grounds, I could walk about without a guide, 
 vcn go to a neighbor s quite alone. I was 
 
 v r happier than when I had done any little 
 thing to please my benefactress; she would 
 ihvays most generously reward my every effort. 
 It was part of her faith to commend a child 
 when it had done well, thereby inducing a fu 
 ture endeavor to deserve a kind word or ap 
 proving smilo. 
 
 Mr. C. had a brother living in tho village 
 who had a blind daughter, named Almeada, a 
 year younger than myself. We became much 
 attached to each other, and spent a great deal 
 of our time together. I had also another friend 
 in the village, Elder Hobert, a Methodist minis 
 ter; with him and his family I passed many 
 happy days. On one occasion he presented me 
 with a copy of the Bible, which I still have, 
 and from which I often have read to me a verse 
 he marked : " Him that cometh unto me, I will 
 4 
 
74 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 in no wise cast out." He lias since gone to 
 California, but is still mj friend. 
 
 Being now able to knit pretty well, I felt 
 anxious to do something towards supporting 
 myself. I thought I would ask one of our 
 neighbors to let me do the usual winter knitting 
 her household required. These arrangements 
 1 had planned in my own mind ; when I com- 
 IL imicated them to Mrs. C., she rather dissuaded 
 me from making the attempt, i earing it would 
 be more than I would be able to accomplish. 
 In the afternoon, however, the lady of whom I 
 haJ. thought, came to our house, and I asked 
 her to let me do her knitting. She appeared 
 pleased with my desire to do something towards 
 making a livelihood, and said I should come to 
 her house and knit by the week. 
 
 The next morning I entered upon my engage 
 ment. My remuneration was a dollar a week. 
 From this time I could command as much and 
 more than I could possibly do, and in this way 
 supported myself for four years. 
 
 I was very sorry to be away from Mr. and 
 Mrs. Cook, and the children, they had been so 
 kind to me. The first week I missed them nil 
 
T1IE JJL1XD GIRL. 75 
 
 sadly. Only an orchard lay between Mrs. Wil 
 son s and their farm ; every morning I would 
 take my seat in the front-door just as the sun 
 was rising, and listen for the dear familiar 
 sounds from Mrs. Cook s yard ; but the sweetest 
 far, were the tones of her own loved voice. I 
 longed to be with them all, yet more earnest 
 was my desire not to be a burden to my friends. 
 I felt an honest pride in providing for myself 
 while T had health and strength. 
 
 I had been with Mrs. Cook three years, when 
 I received a letter from my sister in Chicago, 
 stating she was married, and for some time hud 
 been trying to gain intelligence as to my where 
 abouts. She had found brother Charles, and he 
 was living with her, and she wished me to join 
 them. It seemed so singular I should receive a 
 letter from my sister, not having heard from 
 any of my family for so long a time. I was 
 very desirous to see her, but felt as though I 
 could not tear myself away from my dear 
 friends who had so faithfully supplied the place 
 of father, mother, brothers and sisters. Wo 
 corresponded for two years, she urging me in 
 every letter to come to her. Finally the sent 
 
76 
 
 me a paper containing the advertisement of a 
 celebrated oculist, said to be performing almost 
 miraculous cures in Chicago. 
 
 This decided me to attempt the journey. I 
 had been with Mr. and Mrs C. five years, and 
 had had no opportunity of procuring -skillful 
 treatment of my eyes. Hope once more bid 
 me anticipate a morrow, when should be re 
 moved the misty veil and I again see. I resolved 
 to go to my sister and place myself under the 
 advice of this famed oculist 
 
77 
 
 " I TRAVKL all the irksome night. 
 By ways to me unknown." 
 
 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " FROM the sad years of life, 
 
 We sometimes do short hours, yea minutes, strike, 
 Keen, blissful, bright, never to be forgotten, 
 Which through the dreary gloom of time o erpast, 
 Shine like fair sunny spots on a wild waste." 
 
 JOANNA BAILJ/S. 
 
 " AND whether we shall meet again, I know not; 
 Therefore, an everlasting farewell take : 
 If we do meet again, why, we shall smile ; 
 If not, why, then this parting was well made." 
 
 SHAKSPEAK/I. 
 
 BY the second week in January, (a fortnight 
 after my determination to go,) I was ready to 
 start. The day of my departure Mrs. Cook took 
 me into her room, where we were joined by Mr. 
 0. Both gave me, much good advice and coun 
 sel ; their every word was carefully treasured 
 in my memory, and has often been retrospeeted 
 since that time. 
 
i 3 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 They told me I bad been a good girl, and had 
 never done any thing to displease them ; they 
 also said, if they had ever spoken unkindly to 
 me I must forget it. They thought it natural I 
 should desire to be with my sister, but assured 
 me if I needed a home their door would be 
 open to me and a hearty welcome ready. If I 
 at any time required assistance, I was to write 
 and let them know, and it should be forthcom 
 ing. 
 
 The sleigh .now made itself heard by the 
 merry jingling of the bells ; but they sounded not 
 joyously as was their wont. They seemed the 
 parting knell of the fond associations I had cher 
 ished. The final moment came ; how can I de 
 scribe what to me was so fraught with anguish? 
 Mr. Cook accompanied me to the cars ; before 
 we were one mile from home the weather was 
 so extremely cold, my cheeks were frost-bitten, 
 and I had to hold snow to them to draw the 
 frost out. We soon reached the depot, and Mr. 
 C. procured me a comfortable seat by the stove. 
 He then bade me good-by and left me. Once 
 again I was a lonely wanderer among strangers. 
 How devious has been the way by which I have 
 been led ! 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 79 
 
 "We travelled but slowly on account of the 
 snow-banks that covered the track. No one 
 spoke to me during the day except the conduc 
 tor. Just as evening was setting in, the cars ran 
 into a snow-fcank eight feet high ; they tried to 
 force their way through it, but this attempt was 
 about half-completed when they could get no 
 farther. We were within a quarter of a mile of 
 Kalamazoo. The conductor informed us it 
 would be impossible for the ladies to get out, 
 and that the gentlemen would have to crawl out 
 and procure fuel and provision for us. lie said 
 they had sent to Marshall for another engine to 
 extricate us from our difficulty, but it would not 
 be there before morning. I was not alarmed, as 
 I had learned there was no real danger. My 
 seat by the stove was very comfortable, and my 
 carpet-bag contained plenty of refreshment, 
 thanks to rny thoughtful friend, Mrs. C. While 
 I was sitting thinking of the dear ones I had 
 left, the pleasant home where they were, even 
 then, doubtless, speaking kindly and tenderly 
 of me. a gentleman came to me, and opened a 
 conversation by inquiring how I liked the prob 
 ability of being snow-bound till morning ; also 
 
80 
 
 asking me if " I were near-sighted." I told him 
 "so much so I could not see at all." He then 
 offered to take me under his protection until -we 
 were removed from the snow-bank. I thanked 
 him, and told him how glad I was to meet with 
 a friend. He took a seat by me, and entertained 
 me by narrating similar misfortunes during his 
 travels. He thought we were very fortunate to 
 be so near a town. 
 
 My friend told me he was on his way home to 
 see his mother, whom he had not seen for seven 
 years, and I in turn, informed him I was going 
 to visit a sister and brother I had not seen since 
 I was a very little child. We became quite so 
 ciable ; it seemed as if I had always known him. 
 Our attention was now drawn to a comical Yan 
 kee among the passengers, who was amusing 
 them by relating various adventures he had had. 
 His appearance was as grotesque as his conver 
 sation was ludicrous : his pants were of almost 
 every color, his vest of variegated calico, and, 
 besides a buckskin coat, a pair of nondescript 
 boots, he wore an old slouched hat distorted into 
 the most inconceivable kind of shape. After 
 having entertained us for some time, he arose 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 81 
 
 from his seat and exclaimed : " The rules say you 
 must not put your feet on the cushions, but 
 they say nothing about keeping a fellow all 
 night in a snow-bank." Having made this 
 speech, he so arranged two of the seats as to 
 make a pretty comfortable couch, and throwing 
 himself upon it was soon in the land of dreams, 
 snoring most sonorously, no doubt in unison 
 with the fancies flitting through his brain. 
 
 The passengers were becoming weary of con 
 versation ; my kind friend urged me to feel no 
 delicacy in reclining my head upon his shoulder. 
 I thanked him, but refused, partly because he 
 was a stranger, and then I did not feel very 
 drowsy. 
 
 At two o clock the locomotive arrived, run 
 ning against us with great force, almost pushing 
 us through the bank. The shock was so sud 
 den, it quite discomposed our Yankee friend, 
 throwing him from his sleeping-place, and part 
 of his temporary accommodations with him. He 
 sprang to his feet and, looking much frightened, 
 exclaimed : " Golly, have they got snow-banks 
 in this ere world, too ?" The passengers bu rat 
 out laughing. He told us he had dreamed he 
 4* 
 
82 
 
 had been killed and had awakened in another 
 world. 
 
 I was now becoming very weary, and Mr. 
 Chamberlain proposed making me a bed upon a 
 sofa in the ladies saloon, to which I readily as 
 sented. Several gentlemen offered me their buf 
 falo-robes ; with these and one of the cushions, 
 f soon had a very comfortable napping-place. 
 When I had lain down, Mr. C. threw a buffalo- 
 robe, he had nicely warmed by the stove, over 
 me, and then left, bidding me rap and he would 
 come to me, when I had refreshed myself with 
 as long a nap as I might desire. 
 
 I was soon fast asleep, and do not know how 
 long I might have continued so, if I had not, in 
 making an effort to turn myself upon my very 
 narrow couch, rolled from it on to the floor, 
 making a terrible noise. I was almost as much 
 frightened as was my chance friend, the Yankee. 
 Mr. Chamberlain soon had the door unlocked. 
 to ascertain what had happened. lie laughed 
 heartily on hearing I had fallen from my bed. 
 He led me again to my warm seat by the stove. 
 
 It was now nine o clock ; the morning clear, 
 cold, and frosty ; and there were no prospects 
 
THE 1II.INI) (ilRL. 83 
 
 of our being extricated from the snow-bank that 
 day. The water in the engines had frozen, and 
 had to be thawed before any probability could 
 exist of effecting a removal. The gentlemen 
 went out and procured for us provision to last 
 the day. Had I been his sister, Mr. Chamber 
 lain could not have taken better and more ten 
 der care of me. When I would thank him, he 
 would say : " I am doing no more than I would 
 wish any one to do for my sister, were she situ 
 ated as you are." He asked me if I was fond 
 of reading. I told him I was. He then brought 
 several books and passed the remainder of the 
 day reading to me. 
 
 At nightfall we were not much nearer start 
 ing than the evening previous. It was very 
 wearisome waiting so long ; the delay seemed 
 very tedious. What little sleep I had, was upon 
 Mr. C. s shoulder ; my slight timidity in avail 
 ing myself of his kind offer the night before, 
 having entirely vanished : his kindness and gen 
 tlemanly attention had won my perfect confi 
 derice. He told me, " Several of the passengers 
 had asked if I was not his sister," and that " he 
 had told them I was, and said I should tell there 
 
the same if any inquired of me." The next 
 morning, while Mr. C. was absent from the car, 
 ordering our breakfast, a lady took a seat beside 
 me, and after preferring a great many questions, 
 she asked: "If the gentleman with me was my 
 brother ?" I answered as I had been instructed, 
 upon which she remarked : "I knew he was, for 
 he looks exactly like you." So much for fam 
 ily resemblances. 
 
 That afternoon we left the cars, Mr. C. and 
 myself, and enjoyed a comfortable dinner at the 
 hotel, thinking it preferable to remaining longer 
 where so many shared accommodations. We also 
 spent the afternoon at the hotel, as the cars were 
 not to start till evening. While sitting upon the 
 sofa, my friend came and sat by me, and taking 
 my hand in his, said : " Miss Mary, I have been 
 travelling the last seven years, and have met 
 with a great many ladies, but have never seen 
 one who interested me as you have." I told 
 him : " I did not know what I should have done 
 had I not met with him." 
 
 We passed the afternoon in pleasant conver 
 sation : he relating his travels and consequent 
 adventures, some grave and some gay. We 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 85 
 
 \vcre startled by the car- whistle, ana t JL ied to 
 regain our former agreeable scat by the stove. 
 The weather had greatly moderated since morn 
 ing, and there being quite a vigorous fire in the 
 stove, I felt myself fainting. I remembered Mr. 
 C. trying to open the window, and then became 
 perfectly oblivious to all around me, until upon 
 recovering, I found myself out upon the plat 
 form supported by the arm of my friend, while 
 with the other hand he was bathing my temples. 
 Several ladies were standing by, anxious to ren 
 der some service. The first words I heard were : 
 " Sister, do you feel better now ?" To which 
 kind inquiry I responded with my heart rather 
 than with my lip, for his tenderness really seem 
 ed the gentle ministering of some good Samar 
 itan. 
 
 The passengers were all delighted to be once 
 again on the move, and a glad huzza went up 
 as their farewell to Kalamazoo. Nothing fur 
 ther of importance happened until we reached 
 Niles, at which place a man got into the cars 
 and took a seat just back of us. He disputed 
 loudly with the conductor about paying his fare ; 
 from this and other indications, we soon discov- 
 
86 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 ered he was intoxicated. After lie had paid his 
 fare, and the conductor had passed on, he slap 
 ped me on the shoulder in a very rude manner, 
 at the same time saying: "My pretty miss, you 
 had better take a seat round here by me." Mr. 
 0. sprang to his feet in an instant, exclaiming : 
 u Villain, what do you mean by insulting my 
 iacly ? if you do not take a seat in some other 
 part of the car, I will pitch you out into the 
 snow-bank." To my great relief he acted upon 
 Mr. C. s threat immediately. 
 
 At one o clock, we reached Michigan City, 
 where we were to remain till morning. When 
 the cars stopped, Mr. C. told me to sit still while 
 he went out and attended to our baggage. He 
 had been absent but a few minutes when a man 
 stepped up to me and asked if I was not going to 
 a hotel. I informed him I was, as soon as my 
 friend returned. He said I had better go with 
 him. I declined. He insisted upon my doing 
 so, and asked if the gentleman with me was my 
 brother. Just then my noble friend came up, 
 and I felt greatly relieved when I found him 
 near. While walking to the hotel, he inquired 
 what the man whom he saw speaking to me had 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 8} 
 
 said. I repeated to him what had passed be 
 tween us, and he informed that though I did 
 not know him, it was the same man who had 
 been so insulting to me in the cars, and that if 
 I had gone with him, he would never have seen 
 me again. I felt his arm tremble as though 
 with indignation. 
 
 "We had reached the hotel, where we procured 
 supper. On going to the parlor the next mom- 
 ing, I found Mr. C. alone. He arose and seated 
 me ; then said we would have to part, for ho 
 was compelled to take the stage, for his home 
 twelve miles distant. He frankly told me he 
 would not leave me until he had placed me in 
 charge of my friends, but that his money was 
 expended, leaving him barely sufficient for the 
 remainder of his journey. He offered to place 
 me under the protection of some one who would 
 take equally as good care of me as he had en^ 
 deavored to do, 
 
88 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTEK XI. 
 
 44 HEAVEN gives us friends to bless the present scene ; 
 Resumes them, to prepare us for the next." 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 " JOT ! the lost one is restored ! 
 Sunshine comes to hearth and board." 
 
 HEMANS. 
 
 " ABSENCE, with all its pains, 
 Is by this charming moment wiped away." 
 
 THOMSON S AGAMEMNON. 
 
 MR. CHAMBERLAIN left me to institute a search, 
 for some one travelling in the same direction I 
 was. He soon returned with a gentleman, whom 
 he introduced as Mr. Hicks. He was very po 
 lite, but did not make so favorable an impres 
 sion upon me as had my first friend. The bell 
 rang, the signal "All aboard" was given. Mr. C. 
 having procured me an agreeable seat, and 
 wrapped me in Mr. Hicks buffalo-robe, left me 
 with the parting injunction not to forget him, 
 and to write as soon as I reached my journey s 
 end. He had checked my baggage and bought 
 
THE BLIND GIttL. 89 
 
 my ticket, indeed had paid all my CXP 
 since I met him. I offered to pay him, but he 
 refused, saying I must find some other appro 
 priation for my money. Again he told me T 
 must never forget him, which injunction was all 
 unneedcd. I could not cease to recollect and 
 cherish kindness such as he had tendered. He 
 had pressed my hand for the last time and was 
 gone. I wept as if indeed I had parted with a 
 beloved brother. 
 
 Mr. Ilicks was a Californian, and shortly after 
 we had started, seven other Californians joined 
 him and took seats by us. On observing I was 
 blind, they each gave me a gold dollar, which 
 Mr. II. said I would do perfectly right to accept. 
 The Central Railroad at this time did not go 
 through to Chicago, and we had twenty-five 
 miles to travel by stage. Offering the amount 
 for my fare, I was told it had already been paid 
 by the gentleman who had previously been so 
 generous to me. It was now mid-day, and we 
 were seated in the stage to complete our jour 
 ney after the fashion of " auld lang syne." We 
 got along very well ; I had dined while waiting 
 for the stage, therefore did not feel as wearied 
 as I otherwise should have done. 
 
90 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 It was nearly dark when we reached the City 
 Hotel in Chicago. Upon alighting from the 
 stage a gentleman stepped forward and offered 
 to pay my fare ; I thanked him, but told him it 
 had already been attended to. Mr. II. secured 
 a room for me, while he went out in search of 
 my friends, who had not been informed as to 
 what time I should be with them. While he 
 was absent, I made my toilet with more than 
 usual care, as my brother and sister had not 
 seen me for so many years indeed, since I was 
 a child. 
 
 Not far from the hotel Mr. H. met a young 
 man, of whom he asked if he could direct him 
 where to find a person by the name of Charles 
 Day. Singular as the coincidence may seem, 
 that was his name. Mr. H. informed him : " His 
 sister had been placed under his protection part 
 of the journey to Chicago, and that she was at 
 the hotel." Without waiting to hear another 
 word, lie hastened to meet me, and we were 
 once more clasped in a loving, fond embrace. 
 " Is it possible this is my darling sister ?" were 
 his first words. He kissed me over and over 
 again, After remaining with me a short time, 
 
THE BLIXV) GIRL. 91 
 
 be left, saying lie would soon return. I won 
 dered at his not taking me with him instead of 
 desiring me to remain alone until he should 
 bring our sister. 
 
 Eeaching sister s he said: "Jinnie, who do 
 you think is at the City Hotel?" "I do not 
 know," was her reply. " Why, sister Mary !" 
 "How does she look?" was her first inquiry. 
 " Look ! I wish you could see her," said Charles, 
 " she s an awful-looking somebody ; she has 
 hair as red as fire, with hand and foot as large 
 as mine, I do believe, and then too, she is awk 
 ward and ignorant." " Was she well dressed?" 
 said sister. " Well, I think she had a faded calico 
 on." But my dear sister resolved as far as pos 
 sible to remedy all deficiencies, though she could 
 not change the color of my hair, or the size oi 
 my hand and foot, as represented by my mis 
 chief-loving brother. Charles was commissioned 
 to go for and bring me home, as sister could 
 not well leave her family. 
 
 After he had started on his errand, Jinnies 
 husband was informed of my arrival ; and it 
 was thought best to prepare their servant foi 
 mv very unprepossessing appearance. 
 
92 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 A short ride, and I was at my sister s home. 
 I knew nothing of what had passed as to my 
 personal or mental endowments, nor cared L 
 It was happiness indeed, once more to be near 
 those so dear to me ; and clasped once again in 
 a loving sister s embrace. After Charles had 
 led me to the parlor, he ran away to his own 
 home, not far distant, for he had been some 
 three weeks married. Sister neglected to intro 
 duce me to her husband, in her haste to take 
 my bonnet off to ascertain if my hair was really 
 red ; after having duly examined it with a light 
 near by, she presented him to me ; he greeted 
 me most cordially and affectionately, saying: 
 " He was glad to have a sister, for he had never 
 had one." 
 
 When somewhat rested and refreshed, he 
 entered into conversation with me, to ascertain 
 how ignorant I was, I suppose. I narrated to 
 him the incidents of my journey, not omitting 
 the many kindnesses I had received. While so 
 doing I afterwards learned Ellen, the Irish girl, 
 peeped in through the open door at me. When 
 sister went out to give directions for tea, she ex 
 claimed : " Why, what a story-teller Mr. Charles 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 93 
 
 is; why, she s a real lady, and she hasn t got 
 red hair, nor large feet and hands neither!" 
 
 Sister and I sat up nearly the whole night, 
 recounting our past lives, and all the hardships 
 we had endured since our dear mother s death. 
 She had undergone almost as numerous vicissi 
 tudes as I had. At the age of sixteen, however, 
 she was married to one of the best of husbands ; 
 thus finding a protector and counsellor who had 
 tenderly shielded and guarded her. 
 
 The next morning Charles came in and offered 
 me one of his gloves to try on. The joke was 
 then told me, and I with the rest laughed at the 
 very comical representation he had given of ma 
 My wardrobe was examined by sister, and pro 
 nounced somewhat out of date. 
 
 In a few days Doctor - was called in to 
 examine my eyes ; he pronounced them incur 
 able ; this announcement made me very unhap 
 py, for I had hoped to find relief. Shortly after 
 
 this, Dr. was consulted. He professed 
 
 to have performed great cures, and thought he 
 could in my case do the same, but that it would 
 require three months treatment, occasionally 
 operating also placing me under a reguL V 
 course of medicine. 
 
94 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 I was quite hopeful at the prospect of regain 
 ing my sight; and once again being able to 
 look out upon this beautiful world, filled with 
 the handiwork of the Most High. According 
 
 to appointment Dr. with several students, 
 
 came to perform the operation ; he desired the 
 presence of the latter, that they might benefit 
 watching so delicate an effort of skill. It was 
 extremely painful, almost more than I could 
 bear, but hope buoyed me up. And as a sort of 
 balm or soothing palliative, just as it was over 
 came a letter from Mr. Chamberlain, in answer 
 to one I had sent, informing him of my safe ar 
 rival, also of the contemplated operation upon 
 my eyes. A week only elapsed between the 
 forwarding of my letter and the receipt of his 
 answer. Three months passed, and my vision 
 was neither restored nor improved. 
 
 The close atmosphere of the city, and the ex 
 penditure of physJcal strength the operations 
 upon my eyes had occasioned, had told fearfully 
 upon my health ; indeed, it seemed utterly shat 
 tered. Oh ! how I .onged to be once more in 
 my country Lome. Sometimes I would think I 
 would go to Mrs Cook, and never leave her 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. r> 
 
 again : but then tliis would not be treating with 
 proper consideration the kindness of my rela 
 tives. Every second week came a sweet and 
 welcome letter from Mrs. Cook, affording me 
 unutterable delight. 
 
 That long tedious summer passed, leaving me 
 delicate and frail. Sister Jinnie, Charles and 
 Mr. Barton, were all attentive to me, and if af 
 fection and tenderness could have reiii- Katcd 
 my health, I should not long have been a^ in 
 valid. 
 
96 tfAKY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ?: TnE joys of meeting pay the pangs of absence." 
 
 HOWE S TAMERLANE 
 
 " ANP doth not a meeting like this make amends 
 For all the long rears I ve been wandering away ?" 
 
 i CAN not speak, tears so obstruct my words, 
 
 And choke me with unutterable joy." 
 
 OTWAT 
 
 " OH ! art thon found ? 
 But yet to find thcc thus !" 
 
 VESPERS OF PALERMO. 
 
 " AH me ! what hand can touch the string so fine ! 
 Who up the lofty diapason roll 
 Such sweet, such sad, such solemn airs divine ?" 
 
 THOMSON. 
 
 MY brother-in-law was a carriage- maker, and 
 carried on the business in Chicago, Charles being 
 his partner. One day, while Mr. B. had left the 
 shop to go to dinner, a very gentlemanly young 
 man entered and inquired of Charles if Mr. N". 
 A. Barton were in. On being told he had gone 
 to dinner, he took a seat as if to wait his return. 
 
^~ 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 ^ 
 
 T1IK BUM; <JIIIL> 
 
 Charles asked him : " If he wished to get some 
 work done ; if he did, he was Mr. Burton s part 
 ner, and could arrange matters with him." The 
 gentleman then said : "He had not called to have 
 work done, but he had heard Mr. Barton was 
 his brother-in-law, and had come to ascertain if 
 it were true." Charles looked at him intently 
 for a moment, and then exclaimed : " Is it pos 
 sible this is William Day ? If so, we are bro 
 thers, for I am Charles Day." The truth needed 
 no second confirmation; in an instant they were 
 in each other s arms and no words can justly re 
 present the joy of that meeting. Mr. Barton en 
 tered the shop, and Charles with pleasure beam 
 ing in his countenance, introduced his long-lost 
 brother William. lie welcomed him heartily, 
 for he was anxious our family should be re 
 united. 
 
 Sister and I were sitting in the nnr.S Tv ; Mr. 
 B came in and told us a gentleman in the parlor 
 wished to see us. We went down immediately ; 
 on entering, Mr. B. asked sister if she had ever 
 .seen his friend before. To which she answered 
 lhat "she thought not." The stranger then said : 
 " Have you forgotten your brother William ?" 
 
98 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 We both ran to him, and were most fondly held 
 to his heart. He seated me upon his knee, and 
 gazing into my face discovered I was blind ! 
 Oh ! the anguish of that moment. Large tears 
 of sympathy rolled down his manly cheeks, and 
 in speechless agony he pressed me to his bosom. 
 
 When his emotion had sufficiently subsided 
 to allow him to speak, he bent over me and in 
 low soft tones whispered : " Sister, it is the will 
 of God, it is all right." This calmed my wildly 
 throbbing heart, and I felt I could submit to 
 my affliction, although forever shut out from me 
 was the face of him I so dearly loved, save as 
 memory had portrayed it years ago. I could 
 say : " Thy will and not mine be done, O Lord !" 
 
 Four of our long-separated family were now 
 reunited. Where were the remaining two? 
 Father and brother Howard? Where had they 
 wandered? Unchecked the wish arose that 
 they ere long might be added to our group. 
 
 Until a late hour that night we were recapit 
 ulating the various scenes of our lives. We 
 found each had suffered, but mine had been the 
 most heavily clouded, and was too sorrowful to 
 lhadow our first evening together. Nor will 
 
THK DLIXI) GIRL. 99 
 
 my father, brothers or sister knov all it fell to 
 my lot to endure, till they scan tic ?, simple story 
 contained in these pages. 
 
 Brother William told us he had been living 
 in Kacine, Wisconsin, the last nine years, with 
 the same persons with whom fatluT had left him. 
 lie had always been treated by them with great 
 kindness ; indeed they had been like parents to 
 him. In a few days he departed from us to re 
 turn home, promising to. make *,very inquiry 
 concerning Howard, our youngest, brother. 
 
 Upon bidding me farewell lu placed in my 
 hand twenty-five dollars, telling rie to give it to 
 my doctor, it might encourage Lim to do his ut 
 most to restore my sight. 
 
 Fall and winter passed ; my sight was in no 
 way improved, and my health was declining. 
 My sister was now keeping a large boarding- 
 hous?, and I must not forget to mention the 
 many kindnesses of the boarders to me. There 
 was one in particular, whose attention and 
 friendly offices I shall ever remember. He made 
 constant sacrifices of his leisure to sit by me and 
 read or write for me. He also frequently enter 
 tained me by playing on the flute, in which he 
 
100 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 was quite skilled : Ms favorite melody too was 
 the one my dear departed mother so much loved, 
 " Home, sweet, sweet Home." Often have I 
 been soothed listening to the plaintive strains, 
 for they recalled her angel presence, yet ever as 
 the dulcet notes would die away would come the 
 sad truth, she had left me, never to return. Oh ! 
 
 " I miss tliee, my mother ! thy image is still 
 
 The deepest impressed on my heart, 
 And the tablet so faithful, in death must be chill, 
 Ere a line of that image depart." 
 
 One bright day during that spring, while bro 
 ther Charles was walking down Randolph street, 
 he met a youth who inquired of him where Mr. 
 Barton, a carriage manufacturer, could be found. 
 He told him he was then on his way there, and 
 if he would accompany him he would conduct 
 him to the gentleman s establishment. 
 
 As they walked along, the stranger informed 
 Charles he had just arrived in the Michigan 
 cars, and was entirely unacquainted in the city. 
 On reaching the shop, and brother indicating to 
 him which was Mr. Barton, he stepped up to 
 him and said : "Do not think me impertinent 
 
THH BLIXD GIRL. 101 
 
 if I ask the name of the lady you married." 
 Mr. B. told him. Virginia Day. To which the 
 stranger replied : "She is my sister." There was 
 a second affectionate greeting in that shop be 
 tween brothers, after which they came to the 
 house. Sister was in the parlor ; on hearing 
 the door open, she looked around. Her eye 
 rested a moment on the stranger, when with an 
 eager cry of joy she sprang towards him, exclaim 
 ing: "O Howard! Howard! my darling bro 
 ther !" She brushed the hair back from his fore 
 head, and gazed with pride upon his noble coun 
 tenance. 
 
 At this time I was confined to my bed, and 
 sister in speaking of me narrated to him my great 
 affliction. With extreme caution they informed 
 me of his arrival. He came to my room, and 
 when clasped in those manly arms I could scarce 
 believe it was the little brother I had parted 
 from years before. 
 
 In a few days I was able to sit up ; we sent 
 for brother William. He came, and the hour 
 we had so longed for had at last arrived. We 
 were once again a united family save the pre 
 sence of our father. All thought him dead ex- 
 
102 JIAliY L. DAY, 
 
 cept myself. I always felt we should meet again. 
 Brother WiDiam after spending a few days with 
 us returned home, brother Howard remaining 
 to learn a trade with Mr. Barton. 
 
 Like myself, he had met with much unkind 
 treatment. The person s with whom father placed 
 him after a short time elapsed, cast him off, not 
 caring what became of him. He was anxious 
 to acquire knowledge. As soon as he was large 
 enough to work, he toiled early and late to earn 
 sufficient to purchase clothing, pay his board, 
 and during the winter season attend school. In 
 this way he received a fair education, and is now 
 in Iowa, engaged in business for himself. 
 
 My health continuing to decline, my brother 
 in Racine sent for me to pay a visit, thinking a 
 change might be beneficial to me. The second 
 of September I started. Mr. Barton took me to 
 the boat, and seated me in the cabin. A gentle 
 man came up to me and asked if I had consump 
 tion. I told him I hoped not. Taking a seat 
 beside me, he examined my pulse and informed 
 me I would not live three months if I continued 
 the treatment I had been undergoing. He then 
 invited me to walk on deck. The day was beau- 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 103 
 
 tiful, and Lake Michigan calm, peaceful, serene. 
 I had not long enjoyed the open air and sky 
 before I felt refreshed ; my spirits also became 
 quite enlivened, Dr. Clark was so agreeable and 
 entertaining. He was on his way to Milwaukee. 
 but said he, should stop long enough at Racine 
 to see me safely with my friends. Brother Wil 
 liam met me at the boat. The doctor did not 
 bid me good-by till I was seated in the car 
 riage. Then he bade me adieu, hoping I would 
 soon regain my health. I never exchanged 
 words of friendship with him again, but in my 
 heart his memory hath a sunny nook. 
 
104 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " THY voice is sweet as if it took 
 
 Its music from thy face." Miss LANDON. 
 
 * ; AND should st thou ask my judgment of that which hath 
 
 most profit in the world, 
 
 For answer, take thou this: The prudent penning of a 
 letter." TUPPER. 
 
 " LAY her i the earth ; 
 And from her fair and unspotted flesh 
 May violets spring." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 BROTHER WILLIAM took me to Mr. St. Glair s, 
 the family by whom he had been reared. They 
 welcomed me as cordially as if I had been their 
 own child. The next day brother told me he 
 was engaged to be married to one of the most 
 beautiful ladies in Eacine, and that he should 
 bring her to see me. He did so, and I thought 
 he was correct in thinking her very lovely. 
 Her low, sweet voice fell like music on my ear, 
 and from that moment I loved her. 
 
 I could fill whole pages, reciting the hospi- 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 105 
 
 tality and kindness of the people of Racine to 
 me, during my stay among them. I remained 
 four weeks. My health being much improved, 
 I again returned to my sister. The journey 
 back was rather unpleasant; the weather was 
 stormy, the lake rough, ancl I confined to my 
 berth, terribly sea-sick. About nine o clock at 
 night, I reached home. 
 
 On the following day Dr. Norfolk came to 
 see me. I told him I did not desire his ser 
 vices any longer, as I thought my sight would 
 never be restored. He grew very angry, and 
 left the house, saying he should send his bill. 
 In the afternoon it came, and was one hundred 
 dollars. I sent him word by the servant I 
 would never pay it, for I had already given an 
 equivalent for his services. In a few days I 
 was summoned to court. I was very much 
 frightened, having never been sued before. Mr. 
 Barton bid me not be alarmed, he would see 
 the matter properly adjusted. The day arrived 
 cm which the trial was to take place. I was so 
 nervous and frightened I could not walk to the 
 court-house. I can not describe my feelings 
 while seated in the large court-room surrounded 
 
106 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 by so many people. When, however, I thought 
 of the cruel manner in which Dr. N. had treated 
 me, my strength returned, and I gave in my 
 testimony without faltering. 
 
 The Dr. s witnesses were sworn. Just as the 
 
 last one took his seat Dr. - entered. He 
 
 walked up to me and examined my eyes. He 
 was then sworn, and testified, it was the worst 
 piece of mal-practice he had ever met with. 
 His opinion had great weight, for he was consi 
 dered one of the best physicians in the city. 
 The case after a few days litigation was decided 
 in my favor. 
 
 My brother was not satisfied no further at 
 tempt should be made to effect the restoration 
 of my sight, therefore Dr. Shipley was con 
 sulted, the be\t Homeopathic physician in the 
 place. He made no promises, held out no false 
 hopes, but said he would do the best he could 
 for me. At the cud of the year under his treat 
 ment I found my hearth and sight much im 
 proved, being able to distinguish light and 
 colons 
 
 My raster was tlio only one of our family 
 who remembered om relatives in Baltimore, 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 107 
 
 She had written to them, but the letters had re 
 mained unanswered. The Doctors all advised 
 me to go to the New- York Infirmary, so I con 
 cluded I would write to my relatives and, in 
 forming them of my misfortunes, ask their as 
 sistance. I mentioned my intention to brother 
 and sister, but they opposed it, so I determined 
 to arrange my plans without their knowledge 
 if possible. Sister had a servant who could 
 write ; the next Sunday I took her to my room, 
 and dictated a long letter to my uncle Jacob 
 Day, my father s only brother. I secreted it 
 until an opportunity transpired of sending it 
 to the post-office. My friend of flute recollec 
 tion mailed it for me, promising not to mention 
 the circumstance to any one. 
 
 It had been nearly three years since I had 
 left Mrs. Cook s, and I was now making pre 
 parations to go and spend a few weeks with her. 
 My little niece was to accompany me as far as 
 her grand-parents in Marshall. Mr. Barton 
 placed us in the cars, and his father was to meet 
 us. The journey would have been a pleasant 
 one, but I was taken quite sick soon after 
 starting. 
 
"When we reached Kalamazoo, I thought of 
 mj friend Mr. Chamberlain, and listened eager 
 ly, hoping to hear his voice among the passen 
 gers. At twelve o clock we arrived at Marshall. 
 To my great relief we found Mr. Barton await 
 ing us. I was by this time so ill, it was with 
 difficulty I reached Mr. B. s. After taking 
 *some refreshment I felt better. 
 
 Little Cora was delighted, having never been 
 away from home before. When the sun had 
 gone down, taking Cora by the hand, we pro 
 ceeded co call on my friend, Almeada Cook. I 
 felt scarcely able to get there, although it was 
 only four squares distant. No one knew me 
 except Almeada ; she recognized my voice as 
 soon as I spoke, and appeared delighted that 
 [ had come back again, and begged me to pro- 
 -nise never to go back to Chicago. 
 
 It was now getting dark, the evening was 
 beautiful, calm, and peaceful, with no sound of 
 iissonance indeed, only the birds were heard 
 is they fled homeward each to its leafy bower. 
 As I walked along, meditating upon the many 
 changes that I had transpired in a few years, I 
 forgot Cora was unacquainted with the streets, 
 
THE BLIND G1KL. 109 
 
 and soon found she Lad turned a wrong corner, 
 and I was unable further to direct her. Sho 
 became dreadfully frightened, fearing we should 
 never find the way home. Meeting a gentle 
 man, we inquired of him. He kindly offered 
 me his arm, which I gladly accepted, for I felt 
 scarcely able to walk ; and through his graceful 
 and prompt attention we safely reached Mr. 
 Barton s. 
 
 The next morning Mr. B. accompanied me to 
 Mrs. Cook s. When at the gate I asked him to 
 let me go in alone. I found the sitting-room 
 door open and Mrs. Cook and her five daugh 
 ters engaged sewing. I walked in without 
 knocking and not one of them knew me. I then 
 said, Mrs. Cook ! have you forgot me ? and 
 in another moment my head was pillowed upon 
 her bosom, and I was nearly smothered with 
 kisses from the girls. I visited the little room 
 which had onoe been mine, and found every 
 thing just as I had left it, indeed nothing ap 
 peared changed, except the girls had grown to 
 be young ladies. Old Lucy still reigned su 
 preme in the kitchen, and talked and laughed, 
 and gave wise counsel as sagely as ever. My 
 
110 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 favorite seat under the old oak still remained, 
 I forgot I was sick while exploring my former 
 home and its treasured haunts. Mr. Cook and 
 Benjamin, oncoming in to dinner, welcomed me 
 most cordially as the others had done before, 
 Mr. C. said he was sorry I had ever left them. 
 
 The next morning I was so ill I could not 
 rise, and continued growing worse. The doctor 
 having been sent for, after seeing me pronounced 
 my S} T mptoms those of typhoid fever. He told 
 Mrs. C. I was dangerously ill, and he thought 
 could not live. He said my constitution was so 
 broken down, and the disease so firmly rooted, 
 it could not possibly be removed. She begged 
 him to do his utmost to bring about my re 
 covery. For my part, I was happy in thinking 
 I would die in my old loved home, and be 
 buried in the quiet grave yard on the hillside. 
 
 After a few days they wrote to sister, telling 
 her if she wished again to see me in life she 
 must come immediately. As she sat weeping 
 over the letter, my friend, the strains of whose 
 sweet melodies reach me even now, inquired 
 the cause of her distress. She handed him the 
 letter , after glancing over it he exclaimed : " Go 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. Ill 
 
 to your sister this very hour ; I will take you to 
 the depot and do any thing else you may de 
 sire." He then went out to call a carriage ; after 
 ordering it, he stopped at his office and wrote 
 me a letter, just such a one as only a true-heart 
 ed friend could write. 
 
 That afternoon they laid me upon a sofa in 
 the parlor. I had not been there long when 
 sister Jinnie and little Cora entered. Cora ran 
 and threw her arms around me and said: "0 
 Aunt Mary ! don t die, don t die." This excite 
 ment was too great for my weakened nerves, 
 and I fainted. Sister had a carriage prepared 
 with a bed in it, to take me to Mrs. Barton s. 
 After the sun had set, they lifted me to the car 
 riage and placed me in it ; Mrs. Cook arrang 
 ing my pillow with all a mother s tender care. 
 How like a mother had she seemed to me in 
 my desolate orphanage, and yet twined even 
 with the memory of her tendernesses will ccme 
 the sweet lines of the poetess : 
 
 " I miss thec, my mother, when young health has fled, 
 
 And I sink in the languor of pain ; 
 Where, where is the arm that once pillowed my head, 
 And the ear that once heard me complain ? 
 
i i 2 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 " Oth*r hands may support me, gentle accents may fall, 
 
 For the fond and the true are still mine : 
 I ve a blessing for each ; I am grateful to all, 
 But whose care can be soothing as thine ?" 
 
 My loved friend Mrs. C. having made me as 
 comfortable as she possibly could, embraced me 
 for the last time ; for shortly after, ere we met 
 again her pure spirit went home, she bade adieu 
 to earth that in heaven she might reap the re 
 ward promised unto the faithful. Her mission 
 here had been fulfilled, and she is even now 
 one of that shining throng who surround the 
 Throne, and who are ever singing in rapturous 
 strains : " Unto Him who has washed us and 
 made us white in the blood of the Lamb, be 
 honor and glory forever." 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. Jlfc 
 
 CHAPTER. XIY. 
 
 M Sow ; and look onward, upward, 
 
 Where the starry light appears 
 Where, in spite of the coward s doubting, 
 
 Or your own heart s trembling fears, 
 You shall reap in joy the harvest 
 
 You have sown to-day in tears." PROCTOR. 
 
 " WE must part awhile ; and our love will be 
 The fonder after parting it will grow 
 Intenser in our absence, and again 
 Burn with a tender glow when I return." 
 
 PKRCIVAL. 
 
 THE ride, though a short one, exhausted me 
 very much, and it was many days before 1 
 recovered from the extreme weakness and pros 
 tration consequent upon it. Contrary to my ex 
 pectations, however, as well as to my physician s 
 and friends , I did 9 gain rally, indeed sufficient 
 to undertake the journey back with sister. All 
 were delighted to see me, for they had not 
 thought to do so again. Two or throe clays 
 alter our return, sister came into my room. 
 
MAKY L. DAY, 
 
 bringing with her a missive from Baltimore. 
 Uncle Jacob Day had received my letter, which 
 he had handed to my cousin William Henry. 
 and the letter sister had brought me was from 
 him. He said he had shown my letter to all 
 my friends, and they deeply sympathized with 
 me ; that he would have sent me money imme 
 diately, but not knowing me he was afraid of 
 imposture ; but if I could borrow the amount 
 necessary to defray my expenses to Baltimore, 
 he would repay it with interest and I should 
 never want for friends. He also said, if any 
 thing could be done to restore my sight, expense 
 should not be spared. 
 
 I was so delighted on receipt of this letter, 
 that I was quite an invalid for two clays. In 
 about a fortnight I was ready to start for Balti 
 more, my mother s native place. A day or 
 two before leaving Chicago, sister gave me a 
 party, inviting all my intimate friends and 
 associates, many of whom I shall never meet 
 again ; a number of them died that fall with 
 the cholera. My chief regret in parting with 
 my sister and brothers, was the delicate health 
 of brother Howard ; when I parted from him I 
 
THE BLIND GlttL. 115 
 
 feared it was forever, but God has seen fit to 
 spare him to us and restore his health. 
 
 Monday was the day fixed for my departure 
 on Sunday we were all together, and the trm 
 sped rapidly away. The next evening at nine 
 o clock I went to the cars, accompanied by inj 
 brothers and sister. They were very unwilling 
 to have me travel such a distance alone; but so 
 anxious was I to go, I would not wait for com 
 pany. As the cars were not to start for half an 
 hour, sister said she would take the seat oppo 
 site me, and when she saw some person whose 
 appearance pleased her, she would offer it to 
 them ; for she rather prided herself upon her 
 powers of discrimination, in this particular. 
 
 She had not long remained on the look-out, 
 before, observing a lady and gentleman enter 
 the car, she arose and transferred the seat to 
 them ; Mr. Barton inquired how far they pur 
 posed travelling. The gentleman said as far as 
 Toledo. He then asked if theyjvould take me 
 in charge while our route continued the same 1 
 This they promised to do. After procuring me 
 a through-ticket and placing me in charge of 
 the conductor, when my new friends should 
 
116 MARY L. DAY 
 
 have left me, my brothers and dear sister bade 
 me adieu ; most affectionately telling me they 
 should expect me to return to them again in a 
 few months. 
 
 When alone and the cars were moving off, I 
 began to realize the extent of my undertaking 
 and the loneliness of my situation. As we 
 whizzed past the city limits, I felt I was leaving 
 every one I knew on earth to seek the protection 
 and friendship of strangers. Would they be 
 kind to me ? I would repeatedly question my 
 self. I tried to banish these feelings, and place 
 implicit trust in Providence. 
 
 My companions did not converse much, and 
 of this I was glad, for I preferred communing 
 with my own thoughts. We travelled on in 
 this way till twelve o clock, when I was aroused 
 from my reverie by a sudden crash, which I 
 learned was occasioned by a train from an op 
 posite direction having come in collision with 
 us. It threw o;ur train off the track, and entire 
 ly demolished both engines, but fortunately no 
 one was injured. The conductor came in and 
 told us he had sent back to Milwaukee for an 
 engine, and we would not be able to start before 
 
 O 
 
THE BLIXD GIR 
 
 morning. After the accident one of the passen 
 gers went about the car stamping his foot, and 
 declaring the collision had wakened him up 
 all except one foot. This created a laugh among 
 the passengers. 
 
 It was seven in the morning before we were 
 on our way again. At twelve that day we 
 reached Toledo. When the cars stopped, the 
 gentleman and lady of whom Mr. B. had asked 
 some attention to me, arose to leave. I handed 
 my carpet-sack to the gentleman, when he rjfus- 
 ed it, saying: "The conductor will come and 
 see to you after awhile." They then left, and 
 in a few minutes every passenger had gone. 
 One of the workmen put his head into the win 
 dow and said: "Young lady, you had better 
 leave the car, for the train is going to start back 
 in a very little while." I asked him if he would 
 not come to me, I wished to speak to him. I 
 then told him I would like to be conducted to 
 the parlor of the hotel. Placing my sack on 
 his arm, he took me by the hand, and literally 
 dragged me over the seats until I began to think 
 Diy life was in danger. He meant kindly, I m 
 satisfied; he was good-hearted, only rather rough, 
 
118 
 
 He led me in tins way to the parlor, where were 
 other of the passengers, to whom he said : " Ladies 
 and gentlemen, I want you to take good care of 
 this young lady, for she is in the dark sure." 
 While saying this, he held a tight and firm hold 
 of my arm, seeming to apprehend some inten 
 tion on my part to run away from him. 
 
 I had just removed my bonnet and shawl, 
 when the bell rang for dinner. No one offered 
 to assist me, and touching a gentleman, (if such 
 I may term him,) on the arm, I asked him to 
 assist me to the table. He walked away without 
 taking any notice of my request. I spoke to 
 five or six others, all of whom treated me in a 
 similar manner. I then sat down, thinking I 
 would go without my dinner ; but I found this 
 would be impossible, for I was very weak for 
 want of refreshment, having eaten nothing since 
 the night before. All had left the parlor except 
 one lady. I asked her if she would lead me to 
 the dining-room ; she replied very coolly and in 
 differently: "I am not going out to dinner." I 
 told her I would pay her for her trouble if she 
 would take me out. She said she wanted no 
 pay, and then walked with me to the dining- 
 
THE IJLIND CIRU 119 
 
 h;ill, and left me in care of one of the waiters 
 
 who, by the way, paid me every attention. ? Ti> 
 
 not always the finest broadcloth covers the mo^t 
 
 noble or manly heart. A lady who sat ne,\ t 
 
 me at table was very kind ; after dinner she 
 
 took me to the ladies dressing-room, where 1 
 
 arranged my toilet, and we then went again to 
 
 the parlor. The conductor came to me, saying 
 
 I must excuse him having neglected me, he 
 
 thought I was in care of the lady and gentleman 
 
 sitting near me, and did not require his services. 
 
 He offered to send a gentleman to wait upon 
 
 me across the river to the cars. At three o clock 
 
 this gentleman came, and the instant I heard his 
 
 voice I felt I had a friend. He kindly inquired 
 
 if my journey had been pleasant ? I told him 
 
 how neglected and lonely I had felt. He said 
 
 he was not surprised at this, for a rougher or 
 
 more uncivil set of persons he had seldom seen. 
 
 I could not forbear repeating to him the opinion 
 
 of my travelling companions which I had formed 
 
 from overhearing their conversation. I really 
 
 thought them extremely domestic and rural in 
 
 their predilections, as they had talked of nothing" 
 
 out their pigs and potatoes all the way. 
 
120 MA.RF L. DAY, 
 
 We liad now reached the cars ; my friend in 
 formed me he was agent on the railroad, and 
 would be able to remain with me the distance 
 of sixty -five miles. I was much pleased with 
 this intelligence ; for though sister had been pre 
 possessed with the appearance of the gentleman 
 and lady, under whose charge she left me at 
 Chicago, I felt sure Mr. Dennison would prove 
 far more agreeable and attentive. He was dur 
 ing the short time we travelled together all I 
 expected he would be from my first impressions, 
 mid I was really very sorry when, arriving at his 
 destination, he bade me adieu. 
 
 He advised me to remain in Cleveland a day 
 or two, as I would be exhausted from my jaunt 
 thus far. He introduced me to a friend of his, 
 whom he said would render me any service I 
 required ; he also gave me his card to hand to a 
 Mr. Chase, when I reached Cleveland. I invited 
 Mr. D. to call and see me if ever be came to 
 Baltimore, which he said he should certainly 
 do. I felt grateful to him for his kindness, and 
 did not wish him to think I should soon forget 
 t. 
 
 Upon arriving at Cleveland, which we did nt 
 
TIIE BLIND GIRL. 121 
 
 nine o clock in the evening, I acted upon Mr. 
 D. s advice ; and desiring a carriage, the friend 
 with whom he had left me called one, and wo 
 drove to the Chase House. The proprietor met 
 me at the door with a cordial " How do you 
 do?" Indeed, so cordial was this inquiry, I almost 
 fancied he must be some old but half-forgotten 
 acquaintance. Leading me into the parlor, he 
 asked where I was journeying. I told him to 
 Baltimore, to have my eyes examined and to 
 undergo treatment, hoping to recover rny sight. 
 He said I need not go any further than his 
 house for that purpose. I asked him if he was 
 a doctor ; he told me no; but that his son had 
 performed some wonderful cures. He then gave 
 me a room, and in half an hour returned and 
 waited upon me to supper. Supper over, I was 
 introduced to his son, of whom he had spoken. 
 I was equally well pleased with him as I had 
 been with the father. 
 
 He proposed examining my eyes in the morn 
 ing, to which I assented. They then kindly 
 invited me to spend the remainder of the evening 
 in their private parlor with their family. Upon 
 examination the day following; the doctor pro- 
 6 
 
122 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 nounced my eyes as being curable, stating thai 
 in a few weeks, if I would delay my trip to 
 Baltimore that long, he thought a restoration of 
 my sight could be effected ; but this was impos 
 sible, situated as I then was. 
 
 The doctor inquired if I was fond of music. 
 On my telling him I was passionately so, he 
 seated himself at the piano and performed most 
 delightfully. All the family treated me most 
 kindly, and I shall ever cherish for them senti 
 ments of lively gratitude for their many atten 
 tions to me d \ring my brief stay with them. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " I MAY be kind, 
 JLnd meet with kindness, yet be lonely still." LANDOM. 
 
 " I KNOW not how it is ; 
 But a foreboding presses on my heart, 
 At times, until I sicken." PROCTOR. 
 
 " WHY didst thou fling thyself across my path ? 
 My tiger spring must crush thee in its way, 
 But can not pause to pity thee." 
 
 SOMEWHAT rested and refreshed from my 
 respite from travel, I started at three in the 
 afternoon to complete my journey. As Mr. 
 Chase helped me into the carriage he said : " It 
 really made his heart ache to have me go alone/ 
 But I assured him I could get along very well, 
 for I was not easily discouraged. Dr. Chase 
 accompanied me to the cars ; upon leaving me 
 lie also expressed concern lest I should moot 
 with some unpleasantness. I assured him I 
 was not apprehensive but some one would send 
 me on from any other stopping-place I might 
 
I M MARY L. DAY, 
 
 E ive ; no one would desire to detain me very 
 long. He bade me good-bj, saying lie should 
 expect to see me back soon. 
 
 At six o clock we reached Lyons, where we 
 changed cars. The conductor took me to the 
 hotel, telling me not to leave with any one 
 else, as he would return for me we were to 
 start in half an hour. The time expired, and 
 I heard one train after another, move off all 
 the passengers had quitted the parlor except 
 one gentleman. I inquired of him if the Pitts 
 burgh train had gone ; he said they had started 
 fifteen minutes before, and he thought there 
 would be no other until morning. Shortly after, 
 he took the cars for Cleveland, and I was left en 
 tirely alone. Just as I was thinking what I 
 should do next, a gentleman came in. He 
 asked me if I had been forgotten ; I told him 
 I was in care of the conductor, and that he had 
 left me, bidding me wait till he returned for me ; 
 that I had placed perfect confidence in what he 
 had said, and through having done so, the 
 Pittsburgh train had started without my know 
 ledge. He said the conductor had told him of the 
 circumstance, and was very much troubled about 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. i25 
 
 it, but that another train would arrive in rtbout 
 three hours, and he would remain with me un 
 til it came. I thanked him, but plainly signi- 
 icd I preferred being alone. Upon this intima 
 tion he went out and was gone two hours ; they 
 seemed the longest I had ever known. The 
 intense heat of the atmosphere and the innu 
 merable musquetoes were almost beyond endu 
 rance. When the* gentleman returned, I laugh 
 ingly, though in a decided manner, informed 
 him he and the conductor were one and the 
 same person, (his voice had discovered him to 
 me the moment he had spoken,) also remarking 
 that doubtless he was surprised I should know 
 him again : " Oh ! do you forgive me ?" he ex 
 claimed. "I never had any thing so to worry 
 me in my life. There were some Germans who 
 detained me so long paying their fare, the cars 
 moved off, and I only had time to jump from 
 them, which I did in order to repair my appa 
 rent neglect of you." 
 
 The remaining hour he entertained me by 
 reading the daily news. At last the train 
 came, and I was introduced to and placed in 
 charge of Mr. Higgins again at the mercy of 
 
126 MAitY L. DAY, 
 
 a busy, basiling conductor. He appeared a 
 kind and fatherly old gentleman. When con 
 ductor number one was about to leave me, he 
 asked if I expected ever to come that way 
 again. I told him, if I should, certainly not 
 in care of any of his forgetful fraternity. 
 
 Mr. Higgins arranged me quite a comfortable 
 couch, appropriating his coat and my carpet- 
 sack, then spreading a large shawl over me, 
 said I could sleep all the way to Pittsburgh. 
 Every time he would pass by, he would hold 
 the lantern close to my face and say, " Poor 
 child, poor child," thinking me asleep. 
 
 At one o clock we reached Pittsburgh. I re 
 gretted parting with Mr H. ; he kindly offered 
 to place me in care of the conductor of the next 
 train. The following morning I was scarcely 
 able to rise ; an old lady who had roomed with 
 me, observing my weakness assisted me to dress, 
 and was as tender and solicitous as if she had 
 been my own mother. 
 
 After paying my fare I found I had exhaust 
 ed my means, for I had not prepared a sum 
 adequate to the expense occasioned by the vari 
 ous delays I had been subjected to. I resolved 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 127 
 
 not to allow this to trouble me ; I had a through- 
 ticket to Baltimore, and would make directly 
 lor that point, hoping to reach my friends t^e 
 next day. But in this I was doomed to sad 
 disappointment ; my troubles were not yet over. 
 The old lady travelled with me seventy miles, 
 wlu. ii, bidding me good by, she hoped the rest 
 of my journey would be free from accident, or 
 any untoward circumstance. 
 
 Soon after her departure, a person took the 
 vacant seat behind me, so perfumed with musk, 
 his close proximity nearly took my breath. 
 Being very thirsty, I turned and a r) ked the fra 
 grant, highly-scented gentleman if he would be 
 so obliging as to procure me a glass of water? 
 To which request he made answer : " There s 
 the water, can t you help yourself?" On my 
 informing him I was blind, he said : "He was 
 not in the habit of encumbering himself unne 
 cessarily when he travelled." A gentleman sit 
 ing nenr, overhearing the colloquy, brought me 
 a glass of water. When I thanked him lie 
 said : " He had done no more than air/ g:ntie- 
 man ought to do for a lady." 
 
 The conductor coming into the car, brought 
 
128 
 
 the unwelcome intelligence that we would be 
 compelled to remain in Harrisburgh all night, as 
 there was no train leaving for Baltimore before 
 morning. Oh ! I can not describe my feelings on 
 receiving this information. I had no money and 
 knew no one living in Harrisburgh. What to 
 do or how to act, I did not know. My head 
 began to ache violently, and I felt as if my 
 strength were leaving me. I would have relin 
 quished all the hopes to realize which I had 
 travelled so far, endured so much, to have been 
 once again by my sister s side, at home. At 
 this moment the train stopped and about twen 
 ty happy school-girls entered the car in which 
 I was sitting, feeling so lonely and desolate. 
 Their gayety and mirth but increased my sense 
 of misery. I could not decide how it would be 
 best to act on reaching Harrisburgh. A single 
 beam of hope bid me fancy I should meet some 
 one as generous and kind as Mr. Chase had 
 been, but in this I was disappointed. 
 
 It was nine o clock when we arrived at our 
 destination for the night. The conductor pass 
 ing, I spoke to him of my embarrasing situa 
 tion and told him, if he would procure rne ac- 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 1.29 
 
 coinmodations at a hotel and defray the expense, 
 the amount should be refunded by my friends, 
 immediately after my arrival in Baltimore. He 
 told me to sit still till he had got through with 
 his business, and he would then attend to me. 
 
 I remained in my seat as he had directed, till 
 rvi-iy passenger had left the car, and the lights 
 had all been put out ; still no conductor came. 
 At that moment I felt friendless, helpless, and 
 penniless. I was aroused from this painful re 
 flection by the impertinent voice of the conduc 
 tor saying : " Well, sis, what must I do for 
 you?" I shuddered to think I was in the 
 power of this man, for it seemed to me I could 
 hear the villainy in his voice. He asked a 
 great many questions, all of which I answered 
 in monosyllables. I repeated my request that 
 ho would take me to a hotel, to which he re 
 plied: " There were some very kind ladies liv 
 ing about a mile distant, whom he knew, and 
 who would be very happy to have me stay 
 with them over night, or indeed a whole week 
 if I liked." I told him I should prefer stop 
 ping near by, as I wished to be in good tinu 
 for the morning train. He said: "There was no 
 6* 
 
130 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 hotel near." This I knew to be false, for I had 
 heard the gong sound for supper, and it seemed 
 to be directly opposite. He then said, after I 
 had informed him of my impression, "Oh I 
 
 yes, that is the Hotel." and thai 
 
 he would walk over with me, and ascertain if 
 the landlord would accommodate me for the 
 night. Upon my taking his arm, he asked: 
 * What made me tremble so ?" I told him, " I 
 was very tired," for I did not wish him to know 
 I was afraid of him. When we had reached 
 the hotel he took me in, and then sent for the 
 landlord ; he told him I had a through-ticket 
 to Baltimore, but owing to several delays, my 
 money had all been expended. " Oh ! I under 
 stand," said the landlord. " She is welcome tc 
 the best my house affords." Then the conduc 
 tor took him out into the hall, and they held a 
 whispered conference, continuing about five 
 minutes, and I could not avoid feeling a fore 
 boding that it was concerning myself, for the 
 conductor s actions appeared to me very singu 
 lar and suspicious. 
 
 The landlord returned to me, accompanied 
 by the ch *mbermaid, saying he would wait on 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 131 
 
 me to my room. The girl led the way, and I 
 followed with him ; he left me at the door, tell 
 ing me he would call at my room in half an 
 hour, that I might go down to take some re 
 freshment. After the girl left me I locked my 
 door, and commenced a thorough investigation 
 of every nook and corner. 1 should not have 
 been at all surprised in my search to have put my 
 hand on the conductor. The evening was ex 
 tremely warm, yet I lowered my only window^ 
 fearful lest some one might be able to make, 
 their way in through it. 
 
 I had just completed my toilet when I heard 
 a rap at my door. In answer to my inquiry: 
 " Who was there ?" I recognized the voice of the 
 landlord. On going out, I asked him to wait 
 till I locked my door. As I put the huge ke;y 
 in my pocket he laughed as if he wonderec? 
 what I had to lock up so securely. 
 
 He treated me with the greatest kindness 
 during supper. After having enjoyed this re 
 past I was soon again safely locked in my room. 
 When I arose the next morning, I felt much 
 refreshed. After I had arranged my hair and 
 dressed, hearing some one in the hall, I though* 
 
132 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 I would ask them to take me to the parlor. I 
 attempted to unlock my door but could not 
 succeed, it would not yield to my efforts. I 
 thought I was locked in, and that at the con 
 ductor s instigation. I searched the wall of my 
 room for a bell-cord ; on finding one I gave it 
 such a terrible pull, it brought the girl in quite 
 a hurry. I told her 1 could not open my door ; 
 she pushed violently against it, and it flew open. 
 I had unlocked it and it had required some 
 such force only as she had rendered to " open 
 sesame." So in one instance, at least, I had done 
 the conductor injustice he had not locked me 
 nor had me locked in my room. The chamber 
 maid took me down to breakfast; just as I had 
 finished, the landlord came to me, and said the 
 train for Baltimore would leave in a few minutes. 
 I hurried on my wrappings and went with him 
 to the cars. 
 
 After seating me he left, saying I would have 
 no more changes to make, and that he had put 
 me in care of the conductor. He had no sooner 
 gone than I felt a presentiment of something 
 wrong, and asked a lady near me if we were on 
 the Baltimore train. She said, No ! we were 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 133 
 
 on the Newport train. I cauglit up my carpet- 
 sack and ran out on the platform without assis 
 tance. Taking hold of some man s arm stand 
 ing there, I said hurriedly : "I want to go to 
 Baltimore I" He lifted me off the cars though 
 they had commenced moving, and put me down 
 on the platform. There I stood alone no one 
 to appeal to, to learn whither I should go. But a 
 gentleman passing by, observing my helplessness, 
 offered to place me in the train I desired ; and 
 I felt greatly relieved that I had escaped that 
 wicked conductor, for I always believed he was 
 to have gone to Newport with the train that 
 morning. His whole demeanor was to me in 
 explicable. 
 
134: MAKY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 "!N all my wanderings through this world of care, 
 In all my griefs and God has given my share, 
 I still had hoped, my long vexations past, 
 
 Here to return and die at home at last." 
 
 GOLDSMITH. 
 
 " OH ! still my fervent prayer will be, 
 Heaven s choicest blessings rest on thee." 
 
 Miss GOULD. 
 
 Two o clock in the afternoon we readied Bal 
 timore. I can not describe the emotions with 
 which I entered the city ; its very name, from 
 associations with a loved mother s memory, was 
 dear to me. It had been her girlhood s home, 
 and now she ]ay buried far away. I had re- 
 ;urned to the place of my birth, which I had 
 quitted years ago, an infant in my mother s 
 irms. I could not forbear a hurried survey of 
 ;he past, and with the teeming recollections of 
 :he moment there came a more vivid conscious 
 ness that 
 
 " There is none 
 
 In all this cold and hollow world, no fount 
 Of deep, st-ong, deathless Jove, like that within 
 A mother s heart !" 
 
TIIK BLIND GIRL. 135 
 
 Yet with these memories of the past were 
 blended surmises as to my future. I was in 
 Baltimore a stranger, though in search of friends. 
 The conductor having ordered me a carriage, I 
 directed the driver to take me to the Fountain 
 Hotel. When there, the landlord treated me 
 with great kindness. After dining, I lay down 
 to rest myself before sending for my cousin, 
 from whom I had received the letter encourag 
 ing my coming to Baltimore. 
 
 Requesting an interview with the proprietor, 
 my nap over, I told him whom I wished to see, 
 and asked him if he could inform me as to his 
 residence or place of business ; he consulted a 
 directory, and ascertained the latter. I then 
 sent him information of my arrival. It was 
 nearly dark when a servant came to my door 
 and told me a gentleman wished to see me in 
 the parlor. Knowing it was my cousin, I de 
 sired tlic servant to direct him to my room. 
 During the short interval ere he came to me, I 
 walked the floor in nervous excitement, and a 
 hundred thoughts chased each other in light 
 ning succession through my mind. A rap at 
 my door I tried to open it, but my strength 
 
136 
 
 had fled ; I felt utterly powerless. All I could 
 do was feebly to say, " Come in." 
 
 The door opened, and my cousin was with 
 me. He took my hand in his, and in a kind, 
 friendly voice said : "Is this Miss Mary Day ?" 
 l^pon my assenting, he remarked : " Then I sup 
 pose we are cousins." He led me to the win 
 dow, for it was getting dark. I asked him if 
 " He thought I was an impostor ;" he said, " No ! 
 you look too much like my mother for me to 
 think that ; she has not a child who resembles 
 her as strongly as you do." 
 
 He then inquired concerning my journey, 
 and said he had not expected me before receiv 
 ing another letter. He left me to go down and 
 settle my bill at the hotel, jind returned in 
 little while to take me home with him. V 
 were not long reaching his house ; after taking 
 me into the parlor he said he would go and com 
 municate my arrival to his family. 
 
 "While alone, I sat musing on how strange 
 and vision-like it seemed that I should be in 
 Baltimore, and had met for the first time my 
 cousin, and how different I had foune* him, to 
 what my conjectures had been. I also wondered 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 137 
 
 what sort of person his wife would prove ; would 
 she welcome me cordially as he had done ? per 
 haps she was proud, and would not sympathize 
 with me in my affliction. These reflections 
 made me very unhappy, and at that moment 
 now gladly would I have returned the weary 
 distance that lay between my absent brothers 
 and sister and myself. 
 
 In the midst of my gloomy fancyings, Cousin 
 William again came to me, this time accom 
 panied by three lovely children, to whom he 
 introduced me as their cousin Mary. This 
 cheered rne, and made me feel less desolate. He 
 then informed me his wife was in the last stage 
 of consumption, which was the reason she had 
 not been down to meet me. 
 
 This sad intelligence he had scarce communi 
 cated when the door opened, and I heard a soft 
 step approaching. Cousin William arose and 
 introduced his wife as my cousin Sarah. As 
 she kissed me affectionately, I felt the burning 
 fever on her cheek. I shall never forget the 
 soft sweet tones of her voice, as she said : " I 
 am glad you arrived safely, Cousin Mary." 
 Verv musical sounded this welcome to me, for 
 
138 AIA1JY L. 
 
 it seemed the echo of a loving spirit. Oh ! how 
 bitterly I had felt I had wronged her in allow 
 ing the wayward fancies in which I had indulged 
 concerning her. She indeed, it seemed to me, 
 must walk the earth with a peculiar grace, an 
 angel at the home-hearth unawares. 
 
 The evening glided most delightfully by ; 
 Cousin William quite surprised me with the 
 long list of relatives whom he informed me were 
 anxious to see me. When I retired for the 
 night, Cousin Sarah kissed me " good night," at 
 the sa^ie time saying " she hoped my troubles 
 were all over." 
 
 The second evening after my arrival, while 
 sitting at the tea-table, Cousin William read me 
 the advertisement of a physician who professed 
 to have wrought great and marvelous cures. 
 The paper stated he could be found at his office, 
 corner of Fayette and Exeter streets. While 
 talking the matter over, an aunt and anothei 
 cousin came in Aunt L., my mother s eldest 
 sister She held me tenderly to her bosom and 
 wept over me. As soon as she could speak she 
 , aid : " Is it possible this is Sarah s child ? I 
 must take her home with me this evening." 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 139 
 
 To which I acceded, after obtaining Cousin Wil 
 liam s consent, also his promise to consult the 
 oculist whose advertisement he had read ; for 
 I naturally -felt intensely anxious to benefit by 
 his skill, if in my case it were likely to prove 
 efficacious. 
 
 As we passed along Asquith street, Aunt laid 
 my hand upon the house in which my parents 
 lived last in Baltimore. The spot seemed dear 
 to me, for though years had fled, it had once 
 been familiar to one who now lay in the cold 
 churchyard. The walls had once echoed her 
 footsteps, and her voice had there been heard. 
 
 Uncle L. s family consisted of six persons, and 
 I was received cordially and affectionately by 
 them all. Cousin Maria, Aunt s daughter, I 
 learned, was a widow ; her two children, Frank 
 and Mattie, were very interesting girls ; they all 
 resided with Aunt, which made it very pleasant 
 for me to be with them. They seemed desirous 
 to anticipate my every wish, and did every tliins 
 in their power to amuse or interest me. 
 
 The next day Cousin William called to a., 
 company me to the doctor s; Mattie went with 
 us. After he had examined rny eyes he said he 
 could restore iny sight in six weeks. Cuusin 
 
140 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 William "w *ii delighted at the probability of my 
 being ab\e t,o (see again, and said he would give 
 any amount \f he wrought a cure. The doctor 
 bathed my Lsad with some kind of liquid until 
 I became so weak I could not speak a word nor 
 help myself. He then blew another liquid into 
 my eyes, which occasioned me great suffering 
 for an hour or more. Cousin William all the 
 while stood by, whispering soothing and encour- 
 ing words in my ear. 
 
 I was under treatment six months, daily under 
 going the most acute pain. Cousin William 
 paid eight dollars a month to the doctor, besides 
 defraying my boarding expenses at Aunt L. s. 
 
 My health had greatly improved ; indeed 
 seemed perfectly restored, for which I felt most 
 thankful. My friends appeared never to weary 
 rendering me kind offices. Former acquaint 
 ances of my mother lavished upon me the friend 
 ship and attention they had in years gone by 
 bestowed upon her. 
 
 One day Cousin Maria while walking out with 
 me proposed we should try and find Aunt Patty, 
 our old and faithful servant. She was living 
 with her daughter in Potter street. When we 
 went in, Cousin asked her if she had ever seen 
 
g PS 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 THE BLIND GIRL.\ /^ , 14:1 
 
 me before, or any one who looked 
 led me to the window, the better to decide as to 
 her answer, for she was getting old and her sight 
 was growing dim. She thought she had, but 
 could not recall where. Cousin then told her 
 who I was, and that I was blind. She caught 
 me in her arms, the dear, good, kind old crea 
 ture, and wept over me like a child. As soon 
 as she could speak she said : " If ever any one 
 went to heaven, it was Miss Sarah, surely." She 
 then showed me various presents my mother 
 had made her, and which she seemed to prize 
 as relics sacred and invaluable. Among them 
 was a Bible which she promised should be mine 
 at her death, but said she could not part with 
 it before, for she had through it learned there 
 was a heaven to obtain, and studying its pages 
 had found Christ had died to save her. She 
 had learned to read it for my mother s sake, and 
 it had been the instrument of her soul s salvation, 
 After passing two hours listening to Aunt Patty s 
 praises of my mother, which were as incense to 
 my loving heart, we again turned our steps to 
 wards home, having promised often to visit her 
 in her snug little domicile. 
 
142 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII, 
 
 " OH ! not in cruelty, not in wrath, 
 
 The Reaper came that day, 
 Twas an angel visited the green earth, 
 
 And took the flowers away." LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " THUS sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud." 
 
 SHAKSPEARK. 
 
 41 OH ! grief hath changed me since you saw me last, 
 And careful hours, with Time s deformed hand, 
 Have written strange defeatures in my face." 
 
 SHAESPEARE. 
 
 MY cousin Sarah s health was now rapidly 
 declining, and her sweet babe was fading like a 
 flower by her side. She was only confined to 
 her bed three weeks till the Destroyer came. I 
 visited her every day. She woiild converse 
 with me when her strength permitted, and her 
 thoughts and words already seemed to possess 
 a seraphic glow. Earnestly she beseeched me 
 to become a Christian, to love God with all my 
 heart, and seek an entrance into Christ s fold, 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 143 
 
 assuring me that only in so doing could I hope 
 to ordain true happiness. 
 
 Two days previous to her death, her sweet 
 bud of promise wilted and died ; she did not 
 mourn, for she felt it had "but gone before to 
 welcome her, a cherub in that land of bliss, 
 where sin nor death enters. From this time 
 she failed rapidly, and it became evident not 
 many suns would rise and set ere her spirit 
 would soar from earth away forever, to bask 
 r neath the ineffable glory of his countenance, who 
 is the Lord of Hosts and worthy to be praised 
 While sitting by her side the day previous to 
 her death j she drew me to her, and kissing me 
 affectionately said : " Mary, I have learned tc 
 love you dearly, but I shall soon leave you. I 
 had hoped the one blessing you so desire would 
 have been restored before my death, but tlii* 
 may not be ; try and feel resigned to the dispen 
 sations of the Most High ; and oh I promise to 
 meet me in heaven." 
 
 She died loved and lamented by all who had 
 known her. That same week her husband and 
 father experienced religion, the sanctifying 
 effects of their bereavement. 
 
144 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 A few lines occurred to me which, humble 
 though they be, I offer as affection s tribute to 
 one whose gentleness and true worth still casts 
 a halo of beauty around her memory : 
 
 Our loved one hath gone to her home in the skies, 
 Where suffering no entrance hath found, 
 
 Where sighs are all hushed in a gladsome sunprise, 
 And the pure brow with glory is crowned. 
 
 She clasped to her bosom the dear little one 
 
 She so willingly gave to her God : 
 " My darling, we ll meet, when life s journey is done, 
 In yon beauteous, blissful abode." 
 
 Look up, stricken mourner, weep not thy dead, 
 
 Her memory lingereth yet ; 
 Like the fragrance which flowers at evening shed, 
 
 It softens the pang of regret. 
 
 As sadly we lay her in the cold silent tomb, 
 And the heart throbs with fullness of grief, 
 
 We turn from the pall and the sepulchre s gloom 
 To the teachings of Christ for relief. 
 
 We see through the dimness of tears as they rise, 
 
 The crucified Saviour of men, 
 
 Who speaks, as he bends from his throne in the skie*, 
 "Ye shall meet the departed again." 
 
THE BLIND GIIIL. 145 
 
 Thus it is ever. We love, and what we love, 
 or bird or tree or flower or dear familiar friend, 
 they vanish from our midst like the morning s 
 early dew. Truly, " Man s days are as grass ; 
 as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : for 
 the wind passeth over it and it is gone ; and the 
 place thereof knoweth it no more." What a 
 lesson should this teach us ! Life s brevity and 
 the unknown hereafter awaiting us beyond 
 Death s shadowy portals. Day after day to the 
 lonely graveyard we follow our loved, then 
 return to the busy bustling world again, and, 
 mingling in its anxious strife for gold or plea 
 sure, forget the touchings of the voiceless lip or 
 the eloquence of the form motionless in death. 
 
 The morning of the twenty -second of Febru 
 ary dawned bright and beautiful, fitting type of 
 him whose natal day was to be commemorated 
 by a virtue-loving people. But not in unison 
 with the day were my feelings; a presentiment 
 of ill hung over me. I can not define the in 
 describable dread with which the slightest sound 
 fell on my ear. After breakfast I repaired to 
 my cousin B. s, to pass the day. It was nearly 
 
 7 
 
146 
 
 night, and nothing had occurred in answer to 
 my nervous apprehensions. Suddenly the door 
 bell was rung violently ; I nearly fainted, and 
 yet I knew not why. 
 
 The new arrival was Cousin Maria, who had 
 -jome to walk home with me, also informing me 
 ancle Jacob was there, waiting to see me. Her 
 voice in communicating this to me sounded 
 strangely, and the manner of the rest of the 
 family after we reached home struck me as 
 unusual. I felt something had happened, and I 
 anxiously awaited being informed as to what it 
 might be. 
 
 Uncle Jacob spoke of the weather, and made 
 an effort to introduce other topics of the day ; 
 in doing so he made an apparently casual and 
 incidental reference to my father ; inquiring if 
 I would receive him kindly if he were to come 
 to Baltimore. The truth flashed upon my mind 
 in an instant. Springing to my feet and catch- 
 ing him by the arm, I exclaimed, " uncle, has 
 my father come ?" to which he replied with a 
 forced lightness of tone and manner : " I did not 
 tell you he had." 
 
 He then told me to put on my bonnet and go 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 147 
 
 Lome with him, and I could ascertain for myself 
 if he were there. When ready to start, he sug 
 gested I should take my brothers and sister s 
 likenesses with me. This made positive my 
 impression that he was there. 
 
 The walk to Uncle s seemed much longer 
 than it had ever done before, so anxious was I 
 to see nay, to meet my father, and once more 
 hear his voice. 
 
 Aunt received us at the door, and as soon as 
 I was in commenced removing my bonnet and 
 shawl. Uncle Jacob led me to the sofa and 
 said : " Mary, here is your long lost-father." 
 In an instant I was clasped to his bosom. It 
 was several minutes before he could command 
 himself to speak. When the first intensity of 
 feeling had subsided, he said : " Is this my little 
 Mary ?" He groaned aloud with very anguish, 
 " Oh ! can it be that you are blind forever ; oh f 
 no, we must get you cured !" 
 
 Every one in the room was weeping, but I 
 could not shed a tear. At that moment my 
 heart seemed turned to stone ; my past trial? 
 an 1 sufferings rose before me as vividly a/j 
 though but a day or an hour had elapsed sir ;/ 
 
148 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 I endured them. Mrs. Rutkven s harsh, severe 
 tones were again ringing in my ears. Again I 
 was homeless and friendless. I could not realize 
 it was my father sitting by me. He appeared a 
 stranger to me. 
 
 Although fifty years of age, he could have 
 vrell passed for thirty-five. His kind and affec 
 tionate manner soon won my heart, and I freely 
 forgave him for what had appeared to me like 
 neglect, during the long years that had intervened 
 since he left me in the stage on my way to the 
 home he had thought would be so pleasant and 
 desirable. 
 
 When I would move about the room, he 
 would earnestly watch me and refer sadly to 
 my blindness. It made him very unhappy, and 
 he would weep like a child. I showed him the 
 likenesses, and he kissed them several times 
 with much affection. 
 
 He told me he had lived in New- York most 
 of the time since parting from us, and was mar 
 ried again, and that he had three children named 
 after us which proved he had remembered us, 
 though far from him. He remained in Balti 
 more two months, then returned home to his 
 family. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 149 
 
 Spring had now opened. I was still under 
 treatment for my eyes ; they were no better, and 
 it was thought best to dispense with the doctor s 
 further services. Accordingly my bill vras set 
 tled, and I was relieved the almost daily torture 
 to which I had been subjected. 
 
 At this time I received an invitation to visit 
 some relatives in Westminster. It proved a plea 
 sant trip. I made many new friends. On my 
 return Cousin William proposed I should go to 
 New- York and try if any thing could be done to 
 effect a restoration of my sight. Upon his 
 advice, I wrote to Uncle Henry Deems, a resi 
 dent there, asking him at a stated time to meeJ- 
 me. I started on the twenty-fifth of May. Cousin 
 William could not go with me ; but he placed me 
 under charge of a lady travelling that way, a 
 Mrs. Moreton ; she was extremely kind and 
 attentive. 
 
 We entered into a pleasant conversation, and 
 I found she had known my father and mother. 
 At Philadelphia we were joined by a lady and 
 her little girl, ten years of age. She was quite 
 agreeable, and while with us added much to the 
 pleasure of our journey. On leaving the boat 
 
150 MARY L. DAY 
 
 we were literally carried along by the crowd, 
 and it was not until we were seated in the cars 
 our new friend discovered she had lost her 
 purse, containing about fifty dollars. She was 
 much distressed, and so was her little daughter. 
 At the first stopping-place the conductor tele 
 graphed back, but nothing had been heard of 
 the missing purse. A gentleman took his hat 
 and going through the cars, lifted a collection 
 for the lady. One man in his liberality put in 
 a cent ; but the gentleman immediately threw 
 it out of the window, saying: "We want no 
 coppers." When he had completed his noble 
 errand, he returned and emptied the hat s contents 
 into the lady s lap. She was too much affected 
 to thank him, but her little girl did so more 
 effectively than words could have done, by 
 taking his hand and kissing it most passionately. 
 Mrs. Moreton inquired his name, but he would 
 only say: " I am from San Francisco." 
 
 The lady then gave Mrs. Moreton a sketch of 
 her life. Her hisband had died one year pre 
 vious, and had unfortunately left his property 
 in care of those who had defrauded her of it. 
 To regain it if possible, had been her errand to 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 151 
 
 Baltimore ; but the attempt had been unsuccess 
 ful, and she was now on her way home to Provi 
 dence. A thousand- fold seemed magnified the 
 generous deed of the noble Franciscan, when we 
 learned the lost purse and its contents had been 
 toiled for by one who had encountered such 
 heavy misfortunes. 
 
 After we had taken the steamboat at Amboy, 
 she went on deck to express her thanks to her 
 friend in need, but he would not admit he de 
 served or desired any acknowledgment of what 
 he had done ; but said he purposed making a 
 second collection on the boat this the lady 
 gratefully declined, as she already had recovered 
 a larger amount than she had 
 
152 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTEK XVIII. 
 
 " GIRD up your heart with silent fortitude ; suffering, yet 
 hoping all things." HEMANS. 
 
 " FRIENDSHIP has a power 
 To soothe affliction in her darkest hour." H. K. WHITK. 
 
 " WHAT can we not endure, 
 "When pains are lessened by the hope of cure ?" 
 
 NABB S MICROCOSMUS. 
 
 AFTEE a few hours ride, we landed at New- 
 York. My uncle had been described to me 
 before I left Baltimore ; I asked Mrs. Moreton 
 if a gentleman came into the cabin answering to 
 this description, as I repeated it to her, would 
 she speak to him for me. In a few minutes I heard 
 her inquire of some one, "If he were looking 
 for a blind lady?" He said he was, and she 
 presented me to him.. He received me with 
 great cordiality, expressing thanks to Mrs. More- 
 ton for her attention to me. She now bade me 
 good-by, extending a pressing invitation to come 
 and visit her, remaining just as long as I would 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 153 
 
 feel inclined. The lady and her little girl also 
 parted from me, kindly wishing me success. 
 
 Uncle then took me to his home ; the affec 
 tionate interest there shown words car* not utter 
 The tenderest anxiety in my behalf was ex 
 pressed, which I shall ever gratefully recollect. 
 
 The morning after my arrival, I went with 
 Uncle Henry to Dr. Stephenson s Infirmary. I 
 had been told he could decide, as soon as he had 
 seen the patient, whether their sight could be 
 restored; my suspense, consequently, was al 
 most overwhelming. Having reached the place 
 whither, it appeared to me, I had come to hear 
 my fate pronounced, so excited was I, it seemed 
 as though I should certainly faint. The doctor 
 came in ; observing how overwrought were my 
 feeling , ;ie very considerately forebore telling 
 me how little probability there was I should 
 ever see again. 
 
 "While seated n-nr us, one patient after an 
 other came to consult him relative to diseases 
 nf the eye. Some he would inform they could 
 be cured, but others again, and by far the greater 
 number, he would telLhe could do nothing for 
 them. Among these unfortunate ones there 
 
 7* 
 
154: MARY L. DAY, 
 
 was a young woman who, upon learning her 
 case was beyond human skill, sank back in her 
 husband s arms, and I never can forget her 
 groans of agony. Then the piercing screams 
 of a man reached me ; he was undergoing an 
 operation in an adjoining room. My heart sank 
 within me, when the doctor arose and taking 
 me by the hand, said to my uncle: "I think 
 we had better take her away from here, or she 
 will be too unnerved to undergo an operation." 
 We retired to a spacious parlor up-stairs, where 
 the doctor left us alone. During his absence, 
 Uncle tried to cheer me, begging me to exercise 
 as much fortitude as I could. The doctor soon 
 returned, accompanied by a Mrs. Sherwood, the 
 lady of the house ; she was about forty years of 
 age, her once handsome face bore traces of care 
 and sorrow. Her manner was winning and 
 gentle, very motherly and soothing. 
 
 Uncle engaged board for me. My room was 
 adjoining the parlor, most pleasantly situated. 
 He then took leave of me, promising to call the 
 next day. The doctor accompanied him, arid 
 Mrs. S., excusing herself, followed them, which 
 left me, as I supposed, entirely alone. While 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 155 
 
 musing over the events of the day, I heard a 
 slight movement near me. I spoke but received 
 no answer ; this frightened me very much, but I 
 arose to ascertain if possible what occasioned the 
 sound I had heard as of some one moving, also 
 a soft breathing I could distinguish. Now, gen 
 tle reader, what do you suppose had produced 
 my alarm ? Something very terrible, no doubt! 
 say you. Well, it was a dear little girl about 
 three years old ; Nellie, she told me r was her 
 name, and she had long curls which mamma said 
 were pretty, very pretty, and that her eyes were 
 blue like the sky. Sweet little prattler! how 
 earnest was the prayer that went up from my 
 heart that they might never be veiled by a 
 misty shadow, shutting out forever the bright 
 blue sky, whose cerulean hue had tinged them 
 with beauty. 
 
 I twined my arms about her, and held her 
 caressingly to me, when with tenderness beyond 
 her years she asked : "Are you blind ?" From. 
 Mrs. Sherwood, who had now returned, I learned 
 Nellie s mamma was one of the boarders. 
 
 Mrs. S. conversed with me about many 
 things, giving me stray snatches of her per- 
 
eonal history. Her husband had died two 
 years previous, and had left her with eight 
 children, seven of which were sons. The tea- 
 bell interrupted the continuance of our conver 
 sation. At the table I was introduced to the 
 hoarders, and to her two eldest sons, William 
 and George Sherwood. George was quite talk 
 ative and agreeable, and we became pretty well 
 acquainted. Tea over, he waited upon me to 
 parlor, and spent the evening chatting with me. 
 I felt I had gained another friend, for sincerity 
 and kindness marked his every word. 
 
 The next week had been decided upon as the 
 time when an operation upon my eyes should 
 be performed. The day previous to the one of 
 so great moment to me, Mrs. Sherwood came 
 into the parlor accompanied by a very handsome 
 lady and a little blind boy. Taking a seat near 
 me, and appearing much affected, my hand held 
 in hers, she said to me in earnest, sympathetic 
 tones : " Are you blind ?" On my assenting, 
 she said: "So is my dear little boy!" Little 
 Willie sprang into my lap, and throwing his 
 arms caressingly around me, said in plaintive 
 simplicity : " Did you stick a knife in your eye, 
 too?" 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 157 
 
 Dr. Stephenson, entering at this time, exam 
 ined my little friend s eyes, and pronounced the 
 case a doubtful one as to relief. The distress 
 of his mother at this intelligence was truly heart 
 rending. She had travelled from Minnesota, 
 a distance of more than a thousand miles, alone, 
 in order to avail herself of Dr. Stephenson s 
 acknowledged skill; and to learn there in all 
 probability could be but little done, Wifi indeed 
 a severe trial. The doctor, however, suggested 
 she should remain awhile, and he v ould do all 
 in his power. She said she would jemair, pro^ 
 vided I would allow her to share my apartment, 
 to which I readily assented, thinking she would 
 prove an agreeable companion. 
 
 The day following, Aunt and Uncle came 
 over to be with me while my eyes were being 
 operated upon. Dr. S. came in, accompanied by 
 a number of other doctors. Their arrival so un 
 nerved me that they thought best not to attempt 
 the operation. Dr. S. suggested I should con 
 sult Dr. Wilkes before any thing further was 
 done; accordingly the next morning, accom 
 panied by Mrs. Biglow and little Willie, I called 
 oil this physician. He received us with great 
 
/58 
 
 civility, but told me it would ruin my eyes to 
 undergo an operation, that Nature was the best 
 doctor He asked if there was an institution 
 for the blind in Baltimore, and said he would 
 ndv 7 ise me to return home and enter it as a pupil 
 if there were one. He then examined Willie s 
 eyes, but with the same hopeless result, of which 
 he apprised Mrs. Biglow as kindly and deli 
 cately as he could. We then bade him good 
 morning ; Mrs. B. soon after left for Minnesota, 
 for she was anxious to meet her husband and 
 communicate to him how sadly fruitless had 
 been her embassy. Ere we parted she gave me 
 much good advice, and kneeling down offered 
 up a prayer that the cup it had fallen to our lot 
 to drink, might with resignation be quaffed, and 
 that strength be awarded sufficient to endure 
 our severe affliction. 
 
 At one o clock we bade adieu to each other, 
 promising to recollect kindly the intercourse we 
 had held together, and cherish that friendship 
 which had been formed under such mournful 
 circumstances. 
 
 Contrary to Dr. W. s advice, I determined 
 again to make an effort to undergo an operation. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 159 
 
 I did not feel tliat I could return to Baltimore 
 satisfied without having done so. Saturday 
 was appointed, and on that day Uncle was with 
 me to sustain me as much as possible by his 
 presence. One doctor after another came quietly 
 into the room, thinking to do so without my 
 knowledge. I told them they could not frighten 
 me to-day, so they need not be so very quiet 
 and cautious. Seated upon an ottoman, they 
 all surrounded me, Dr. Stephenson in front, as 
 he was to perform the operation, and tried tc 
 cheer me by talking gayly. He- said : " I was 
 right good-looking, and all I wanted was my 
 sight." I told him " not to flatter me, or 1 
 should lose all confidence in him." This con 
 versation occasioned great laughter. Then all 
 were very silent, for Dr. S. commenced the ex 
 ercise of his skill. It lasted about twenty min 
 utes, during which period I fainted four times. 
 After he had finished he laid aside the instru 
 ment, saying : " My dear child, I have done all in 
 my power, we must leave the rest to Grod." He 
 also said : " I had borne up wonderfully, and 
 would make a good soldier." Uncle was much 
 affected. I was placed in a dark room to re- 
 
160 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 main until the bandage over my eyes could be 
 removed. When the time had expired, I found 
 to my great joy I could see distinctly. How 
 unutterable was my delight at this discovery; 
 but I was doomed to disappointment. As my 
 eyes healed, vision departed again ; and the 
 florid, the faces of those I loved, was henceforth 
 to be to me a universal blank. 
 
 Greorge Sherwood proved a firm and steadfast 
 friend. He was indeed a noble young man, 
 towards his mother tender and respectful, and 
 endeavoring to sustain an almost paternal rela 
 tion towards his younger brothers. He whiled 
 away many evenings reading to me, and his 
 selections were always very beautiful. 
 
 I never loved a stranger as dearly as I did 
 Mrs. Sherwood, and she expressed herself sim 
 ilarly of myself, our tastes seemed so congenial. 
 She was ever studying something for my enjoy 
 ment. George s health failing, the doctor or 
 dered him to the country ; when he had gene I 
 felt lonely, the evening reading had been such a 
 delightful pastime, 
 
 Dr. S. could do no more for me, and I con- 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 161 
 
 eluded to return home. I regretted parting 
 with Mrs. Sherwood and her family, but 
 
 " There is no union here of hearts, 
 That hath not here an end ;" 
 
 so bidding them farewell and asking not to be 
 forgotten, I left for home. Dr. S. said he would 
 have given half he was worth to have cured 
 me, but, as this had been beyond his skill, he 
 could but wisii me many friends and success in 
 whatever I might at any future time undertake. 
 He was very kind and gentlemanly. 
 
 Uncle placed me in a lady s care travelling to 
 Baltimore, and having bid him and his dear 
 family good-by, I was once again a bird of pass 
 age ; still in the dark, for though I had gone ii\ 
 search of light, it had been denied, and it now 
 became my duty to submit unrepiningly to His 
 decrees who suffereth not even a sparrow to fa) 1 
 to the ground unnoticed, who is mindful of 
 what is best for the weakest of his creatures 
 
OHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 " THESE eyes 
 
 Bereft of light, their seeing half forgot; 
 Nor to the idle orbs doth sight appear 
 Of sun, or moon, or star throughout the year, 
 Of man or woman : Yet I argue not 
 Against Heaven s hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 Right onward." MILTON. 
 
 "AND thou shalt touch for thyself, the golden sceptre of 
 Religion." TUPPER. 
 
 " So, that blessed train passed by me ; but the vision was 
 
 sealed upon my soul ; 
 How beautiful their feet, who follow in that train." 
 
 TUPPER. 
 
 MRS. SIMONS was a very pleasant lady, and 
 we chatted the time away quite agreeably. We 
 stopped at Philadelphia, and most of the pas 
 sengers went to the hotel to dine. A lady de 
 siring to do so, left in my charge a small bas 
 ket filled with gold, until she should return and 
 claim it, A little while after, she came back into 
 the car and took the basket from me, saying : 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 163 
 
 " I placed great confidence in your honor in leav 
 ing my treasure in your care." " Not at all," 
 said I ; " You knew I could not see to run 
 away with it, no matter what my disposition 
 might have been." These remarks amused the 
 passengers; they seemed fully to appreciate my 
 inability to appropriate the lady s gold by run 
 ning away with it. 
 
 We reached Baltimore in the evening ; home 
 once more. Truly, " there s no place like home. 
 After my return I spent several weeks at Un 
 cle Jacob s. Being now fully satisfied there 
 was no hope that my sight would be restored, 1 
 resolved to submit to my lot unmurmuringly, 
 indeed with what of cheerfulness I could, be 
 lieving it would but make " the day more dark 
 and dreary," wasting it in idle repinings. My 
 friends were anxious I should enter the Institu 
 tion for the Blind, as had previously been ad 
 vised. Cousin William was at this time in 
 Europe, and it was thought best not to delay 
 matters until his return. So anxious was I to 
 become a pupil that I made every personal effort 
 to attain so desirable an end. I found unshrink 
 ing perseverance necessary to bring it about. 
 
.64 
 
 Aided by Professor Lougher y, Superintendent 
 of the Institution, admission was obtained. The 
 day I left Aunt s, again to make my home with 
 strangers, is one thronged with various memo 
 ries emotions of pain as well as pleasure. I 
 was sad at leaving home, and hopeful as to what 
 f might accomplish in self-improvement during 
 my stay in the Institution. 
 
 Cousin Mattie accompanied me. On entering 
 we were met by Mr. Loughery, one of the most 
 perfect gentlemen I have ever known. He also 
 was blind, therefore could deeply sympathize 
 with those to whom had fallen a similar afflic 
 tion. The welcome he gave was very cordial, 
 hoping I would be happy and contented while 
 in the Institution. He then excused himself 
 and left the room. A few moments and a young 
 lady came to me, introducing herself as Miss 
 Moran, the assistant teacher. I was much 
 pleased with her manner, so graceful and lady 
 like. Cousin Mattie bade me good-by, promis 
 ing to visit me the next week. Miss M. con 
 ducted me to the sitting-room. 
 
 School being now dismissed, the young ladies, 
 pupils in the Institution, entered. At this time, 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 165 
 
 tLere were only three female and five male 
 pupils. Upon being introduced they greeted 
 me as though I had been an old acquaintance. 
 This is the usual manner of the blind ; they 
 are never strangers to each other, a common 
 sympathy seems to link them wherever they 
 meet. They are shut out from the external 
 world around them, and feel that a mysterious 
 tie makes them kindred .to any who have been 
 denied, like them, the power to see as well as 
 feel that God is very great, as all his handi 
 works proclaim. 
 
 Miss Moran gave a lesson in the art of sew 
 ing, in which instruction I participated. Mary 
 Yernon was the most advanced pupil ; she could 
 dimly discern the outline of figure, also could 
 distinguish light from dark. How great bless 
 ing to be able to do even this. She was a very 
 lovely girl in disposition and manner. The 
 sewing hour passed, Miss M. led me through 
 the house and grounds, and though October 
 with its presaging voices echoed amid the f rees, 
 the garden was still beautiful, neither the fruit 
 nor flowers had as yet all departed. Wf next 
 went to the music-room, where we found Tro 
 
166 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 Loiighery performing on the piano ; he enter 
 tained us for some time. We were joined by 
 Annu Buckler and Mary Poteet, who came to con 
 duct me to be introduced to Miss Alcorn, the ma 
 tron. She received me very pleasantly, saying : 
 " She was happy to have another added to their 
 little band. 5 
 
 The bell rang for tea. The arrangements 
 and regulations of the Institution seemed very 
 strange to me at first, I had been so indulged 
 at Aunt s ; however, I soon accommodated my 
 self to them. 
 
 The next morning I went into school. I do 
 not think I shall ever forget my first attempt to 
 read. I thought it impossible I ever should 
 learn, bat my motto was, " Where there s a 
 will, there s a way ;" and I determined if ap 
 plication would enable me to surmount the diffi 
 culty it should be overcome. So with my vari 
 ous other studies, knowing " what had been 
 done could be done again," I resolved to make 
 every possible effort, hoping in the end to ac 
 quire knowledge which I might devote to prac 
 tical purposes, as well as enjoy, as the rich re- 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 107 
 
 ward for what of toil and labor, the effort might 
 have cost me. 
 
 As I have before said, Cousin Sarah urged 
 me to promise to meet her in heaven. Latterh 
 this subject had occupied seriously my thoughts 
 I was in the habit of attending the Lutheran 
 Church, in Monument street. During my visit 
 to New- York, a new pastor had been appointed, 
 which I regretted, thinking it impossible any 
 other could acceptably fill Mr. Lilly, the former 
 pastor s place. But I decided, at least to hear 
 the stranger, and then form my opinion as to 
 his merits. Accordingly, I went to church 
 Sabbath morning and heard Dr. McCron deliver 
 as powerful a sermon as I had ever listened to. 
 It had great effect upon me. I returned home 
 deeply convinced of my sinfulness of heart. 
 Feeling somewhat prostrated from my excited 
 state of mind, I lay upon the sofa and fell 
 asleep, when I dreamed I had died, and in ar, 
 instant was at the gate of heaven. I was no 
 longer blind. At a silver desk covered with 
 writing materials, there sat a strange-looking 
 man. He turned and looked at me in a 
 
1G8 MARY L. DAY", 
 
 so searching, it made me shudder then asked 
 in a tone of voice that sounded like thunder in 
 my ear : " Do you wish to enter the gate ?" 
 On my telling him "1 did," he said: "Have 
 you a ticket from God ?" This query made me 
 wretched. During this conversation the gate 
 had repeatedly opened to admit those who on 
 earth had secured a ticket entitling them to an 
 entrance. 
 
 The light streamed forth in such crystal bril 
 liance, I was forced to cover my eyes to shield 
 them ; and the loud hosannas of those who 
 heard the welcome words, "Come in: of such 
 is the kingdom of heaven," almost deafened me. 
 My agony was intense Heaven s gate closed 
 against me na entrance there for me ; like the 
 foolish virgins my lamp had not been found 
 trimmed and burning. From this painful ima 
 gining I was aroused by a well-known voice, 
 happy indeed, to learn twas but a dream, " if 
 dreams they be which have so strong a power 
 o er heart and brain." I resolved to heed the 
 warning given, and secure ere too late, those 
 graces and Christian virtues, which, united to 
 a pure heart, and firm faith in Him who died to 
 
\v 
 
 juirfvBftsn 
 
 TIIK IM.LND <IIKL. 
 
 redeem a lost and ruined world, would cut ill j 
 me to a home with those who alone see God. 
 
 I sought an acquaintance with Dr. McCron, 
 and under his prayers and teachings became a 
 member of the visible Church the May follow 
 ing. The day of my confirmation seemed the 
 happiest I had ever known. As I knelt at the 
 altar I felt as though a heavy burthen had been 
 lifted from me, that had hitherto been weighing 
 me down to the very earth. I can not express 
 the happiness I experienced ; I felt at peace with 
 all the world. The voices of my friends sound 
 ed like sweetest music in my ears ; I thought I 
 never could sorrow again. Since that to me 
 eventful period, Dr. McCron has been as a father, 
 ministering pious counsel and holy teachings. 
 I can at all times freely unburthen my heart to 
 him, and am ever sure not to be turned empty 
 away. Tender sympathy and hopeful words 
 seem ever to spring up in response, to even the 
 faintest whisper of sorrow or regret. May hi? 
 labors be abundantly acknowledged of the Lord, 
 mid the seed he has sown broad-cast in the 
 land, produce a harvest which shall redound in 
 glory to the Most High God. 
 
 8 
 
J70 MABY L. DAY, 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 " ROSES bloom, and then they wither; 
 
 Cheeks are bright, then fade and die ; 
 Shapes of light are wafted hither, 
 
 Then like visions hurry by." PERCIVAL. 
 
 " LET there be no noise made, my gentle friends, 
 Unless some dull and favorable hand 
 Will whisper music to my weary spirit." 
 
 SlIAKSPEARE. 
 
 " THE over-curious are not over wise." MASSINGER. 
 " You cram these words into mine ear, against 
 The stomach of my sense." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 I HAD now been in the Institution six months, 
 and had made greater progress in my studies 
 than I had at first anticipated. The Board of 
 Managers were extremely kind and attentive to 
 us. Two of them were particular favorites with 
 us Messrs. J. Trust and B. F. Newcomer. 
 Whenever they visited the Institution they 
 would come to our sitting-room, and laugh and 
 joke, greatly to our amusement and entertain 
 ment. Mr. T. frequently sent out for ices for us, 
 which we deemed a great treat coming from him. 
 
 The pupils all loved and respected Mr. Lough- 
 ery, and although he was blind, there was not 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 171 
 
 one who would take the least advantage of him. 
 Their love almost amounted to worship ; indeed, 
 he was idolized by many, and one and all took 
 pleasure in refraining from aught that he might 
 disapprove. I never have known more perfect 
 government than he maintained. Very intel 
 ligent and of affable manners, he won not only 
 the hearts of all his pupils, but also of every 
 one with whom he met. No sacrifice seemed too 
 great for him to make, if it in any way contri 
 buted to our gratification or enjoyment. 
 
 To our great sorrow, during the spring he was 
 taken ill, and confined to his bed three months. 
 This was a season of .painful suspense to us, for 
 it was not thought he would recover. The 
 dawn of each day brought the fearful anxiety 
 lest it should be his last. As time sped, how 
 ever, he partially recovered, and we were most 
 thankful to have him once more restored to us. 
 
 During his illness every instrument of music 
 was hushed and silent, for no one felt any in 
 clination to indulge in this recreation and he so 
 ill. While upon his sick-bed he composed the 
 fallowing beautiful and touching lines, which 
 were s?t to music by Professor Magruder, who 
 is blind. 
 
172 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 MY MOTHER S PARTING TEAR. 
 
 " When far away from home and frienda, 
 
 A slave to fortune s will, 
 My heart oft turns to other days, 
 
 And her who loves me still. 
 I see the last fond look nhe gave, 
 
 Of mingled hope and fear, 
 And still I see as though twere now, 
 
 My mother s parting tear. 
 
 " When tossed upon a weary bed, 
 
 Of sickness and of pain, 
 No friend to cool my fevered brow, 
 
 I see her face again. 
 When friendship seems to be a name, 
 
 And all the world is drear, 
 I know there s one who loves me still, 
 
 I see her parting tear. 
 
 " Sweet visions of my early home, 
 
 Steal nightly through my sleep, 
 And fancy soars on dreamy wings, 
 
 High o er each mountain steep. 
 Soon may I sec my good old home, 
 
 And childhood s friends so dear ; 
 I long to glad my mother s heart, 
 
 And wipe away her tear." 
 
 * Published by George Willig, Charles street, Baltimore, 
 and bv his kind permission here inserted. 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 173 
 
 Miss Alcorn left at this time, and her place 
 as matron was supplied by Mrs. Sawyer. Pro 
 fessor Loughery had been our teacher in music, 
 but he was now relieved of this duty by Prof. 
 Mngruder, whom we soon learned to cherish aa 
 a dear friend, each day revealing some new trait 
 to be admired. Being himself blind, he could 
 bear patiently with us, also could from this fact 
 the better appreciate the obstacles under which 
 we labored in acquiring facility in this most de 
 lightful accomplishment. 
 
 Vacation had now arrived. I could not have 
 realized how attached I should become to those 
 with whom I had been thrown so short a time. 
 It seemed like one harmonious loving family, 
 and I felt loth to leave them for even a brief 
 space. The autumn following, our public con 
 certs held in the hall of the Institution, began. 
 It was at first a great trial to me to perform in 
 public, but gradually I became accustomed 
 to it, 
 
 Kemarks made by strangers would sometimes 
 greatly amuse us. On the regular visiting-clay 
 there was generally a fund of after-merriment 
 laid by at the expense of a few anxious inquir- 
 
174 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 ers after information as to what they supposed 
 were the peculiarities of the blind. They ap 
 peared to regard us as a race distinct from them 
 selves Some would ask : " If we closed our eyes 
 when we slept as did seeing persons ?" Others 
 would inquire : " Do you not have great difficulty 
 in rinding the way to your mouth when you 
 eat ?" Some would even go so far as to express 
 a desire to see for themselves how we ate. There 
 were those who seemed to consider us frightful 
 objects, of whom they were afraid ; and again, 1 
 have known persons to put their mouths to onr 
 ears and scream as though they thought we were 
 deaf as well as blind. They would also stand 
 close beside us and pass remarks upon us, as 
 though they thought we were as unthinking and 
 unfeeling as might be a breathing statue. I 
 have known them to say aloud and immediately 
 by our side, " We were the ugliest people they 
 had ever seen," or " that we were pretty and 
 interesting." These and similar comments were 
 constantly being made in our presence as though 
 they thought because we were blind we had also 
 been deprived of reason, and were but moving 
 automata, walking stocks of wood or stone ! 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 175 
 
 There is very generally, I think, a false im 
 pression as to the life of the blind. Many sup 
 pose they spend much, of their time mourning 
 over their one great affliction ; this is quite a 
 mistaken idea. They are as cheerful as seeing 
 persons ; and indeed, take an equal number of 
 either, and it would, I am sure, be found the 
 majority of those contented with their lot, and 
 disposed to take the events of life resignedly, 
 would be those who saw not external things, 
 save as their fancy might depict, and who would 
 give to all the sunny or the shady hue with 
 which their spirit might imbue scenes and per 
 sons with whom they are thrown. 
 
 (There are many who are of opinion it is im 
 possible for the blind to be educated ; this, how 
 ever, is erroneous. During my connection with 
 the Institution, I think I have acquired quite 
 as much practical information as I could pos 
 sibly have done had I had my sight. The 
 educated blind in their own home are as useful 
 and industrious as are those who have not been 
 deprived of their sight. They are handy and 
 ingenious. Generally speaking, they are cheer 
 ful and happy in disposition, social in their feel- 
 
176 
 
 ings, cherishing the most delicate sympathy foi 
 each other. Their conversation is less of earthly 
 realizations than of heavenly anticipations. 
 They talk with delight -of that land where night 
 cometh not, and where no sorrow entereth. 
 
 Persons are but faintly appreciative of the 
 sensitiveness of the blind to acts of kindness. 
 Though trifling in themselves, little acts or little 
 words breathing tenderness will endear a stran 
 ger to them at once. Nor are they aware how 
 keenly alive these unfortunate ones are to harsh 
 ness or neglect. A tone will affect them more 
 deeply than a volume of severe expressions 
 would those whose pathway has been unsha 
 dowed. 
 
 Though the enjoyment of earth s manifold 
 oeauties has been denied them, though veiled 
 from them is the delicate blush of early morn, 
 or the fading sunset glow, yet there are chords 
 in their souls that vibrate as do the strings of the 
 ^Eolian to the gentlest zephyr, making sweet 
 though plaintive melody. 
 
 Because God has seen fit in his infinite wis 
 dom to hide from us the face of friends, lie has 
 none the less implanted within us kindred sym- 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 177 
 
 pathies, a yearning to love and be loved again. 
 Sweet Friendship, with her fond endearments, is 
 as necessary to the happiness of the blind as to 
 those who can recall glances of fond affection 
 expressed by 
 
 " Tones and looks that dart 
 An instant sunshine through the heart, 
 As if the soul that minute caught 
 Some treasure it through life had sought 
 
 8* 
 
CHAPTEE XXI 
 
 M THE banquet waits our presence." BROWN. 
 
 " THEN all was jollity, 
 Till life fled from us like a pleasant dream " Row 
 
 " AROUND her shone 
 The light of love, the purity of grace." BYRON. 
 
 " HER gentle spirit 
 
 Commits itself to yours to be directed 
 As from her lord, her governor, her king," 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 TITE Maryland Institution for the Blind, 
 opened in December, 1854, with two pupils, Miss 
 Mary Vernon and Samuel B. Stewart. It was 
 established through the energy and perseverance 
 of Professor Loughery, who had been educated 
 in the Philadelphia Institution for the Blind ; 
 also was a graduate of the University of Penn 
 sylvania. It had been his intention while pur 
 suing his studies, at some future day to establish 
 in Maryland an Institution for the Blind, similar 
 
THE BL1XD GIRL. 179 
 
 to the one in Philadelphia ; to Mr. Magruder, 
 a fellow-pupil, he frequently expressed himself 
 as being resolved to make every effort to accom 
 plish so desirable an end. He on one occasion 
 remarked to Mr. M. : " Jim, when I have found 
 ed such an Institution, you shall be my music- 
 teacher." How fully was this plan fulfilled ! A 
 few years elapsed, an Institution was established, 
 Mr. Loughery appointed its Superintendent, and 
 Mr. Magruder Professor of Music. 
 
 Mr. McHenry, the President of the Board of 
 Managers, has always shown effective interest 
 in the welfare of the undertaking. He had an 
 addition to the house built, thereby rendering 
 it more commodious ; also contributed a furnace 
 heating every room ; independent of these ac 
 cessories to our comfort, he with, several othei 
 gentlemen of the Board have made liberal dona 
 tions. Mr. Trust presented a beautiful organ, 
 which afforded the pupils much pleasure, as they 
 were anxious to learn to perform upon this 
 instrument. Dr. Fisher provided a piano, 
 besides liberal donations. This gentleman also 
 evinces great interest in our improvement. 
 
 During January, Prof. Loughery s health 
 
very perceptibly failed, so much so it was 
 thought advisable to appoint some one to assist 
 him in his labors. Dr. McKenney came as 
 Superintendent. In the spring, Mrs. Sawyer 
 left us, and her post was supplied by Miss R. 
 Bond. There is one other inmate of the In 
 stitution to whom I would make a passing allu 
 sion. I refer to " Biddy," our faithful waiting- 
 maid ; she was the first attendant employed, and 
 proved herself at all times a noble-hearted wo 
 man. ~No matter how busily engaged, upon 
 hearing any one of us express a wish, she would 
 lay every thing aside and render the desired 
 assistance. 
 
 My friends were desirous I should make one 
 other effort in attempting to find a cure for my 
 eyes, and proposed I should try the effect of 
 electricity ; accordingly I was placed under Dr. 
 Massey for treatment, hoping possibly he might 
 lo something for me. Every morning, Cousin 
 Greorgie H. was in the habit of calling to ac 
 company me to the doctor s; these morning 
 walks were of great benefit to my health, and 
 the application of electricity strengthened my 
 nerves, but my vision was not improved. 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 181 
 
 Enjoying Cousin Georgie s society, how many 
 happy Lours have I spent in her father s, Uncle 
 B. s family. She indeed, in my estimation, is 
 almost a perfect being, amiable and good, and 
 endowed with a sweet melodious voice. She 
 sang most beautifully, and while sitting listening 
 to her, I would forget I had sorrows, and would 
 think earth a very paradise. Uncle and aunt 
 always welcomed me with a parent s embrace. 
 Oh! how thankful I should be in having so 
 many and such kind friends ; and deeply grate 
 ful I feel when, in retrospecting the past, those 
 days are recalled when I was a lonely, mother 
 less, friendless wanderer. God has indeed raised 
 up many to care for and feel an interest in me, 
 and I often outpour my heart in thankfulness 
 to him, for his loving-kindness and tender mercy 
 towards me. I deeply sympathize with those 
 who have fallen under a like misfortune with 
 myself, and who have found but few to sym 
 pathize with them, and cheer with sunny word 
 or kindly act their darkened way. Miss Scho- 
 field, a Quaker lady whom I met at the Institu 
 tion, and who was in the habit of attending our 
 weekly public concerts, expressed a desire to 
 
182 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 contribute in some way to mj happiness and 
 comfort. I informed her how fortunate I was 
 in having many friends, but named to her some 
 of my schoolmates who had very few, and hoped 
 she would remember them kindly. She pro 
 mised to do all that lay in her power for them, 
 and she has religiously kept that promise, hav 
 ing been a staunch and unfailing friend to the 
 Institution and its beneficiaries ever since that 
 time. 
 
 Vacation during the very warm summer wea 
 ther was now approaching, and we were to be 
 examined in our various studies before the 
 Board of Managers ; the anticipation of which 
 caused us great nervous excitement and anxiety, 
 it being the first examination into the proficiency 
 of the pupils. The day at last arrived, and for 
 our beloved teacher s sake, we resolved to exert 
 ourselves to our utmost ability. The second 
 day of examination, Mr. Trust invited us out to 
 the back-porch, where was a table set with re 
 freshments. "We were much delighted with this 
 attention, and some remarked : " This is just like 
 Mr. Trust." After having enjoyed the repast, 
 we one and all heartily thanked him, to which 
 
THE BUND GIRL. Ib3 
 
 he responded : " All the thanks he desired was 
 to see us enjoy it." 
 
 The May previous, a Fair had been held at 
 the Institution in behalf of the pupils. It was 
 superintended by Mr. Yearly, in which noble 
 effort he was assisted by several young ladies. 
 Mr. Y. is very kind, generous man, and exerted 
 himself greatly, in having the Fair yield as 
 much as possible. Strangers who attended were 
 very kind to us, and tendered us many delicate 
 attentions. 
 
 Vacation arrived, we were compelled to part, 
 though only for a brief season, with our beloved 
 teachers. This really seemed as severe a trial 
 as though the separation were to be one of un 
 numbered years instead of a few swiftly fleeting 
 weeks. 
 
 I spent the two months release from duty 
 very pleasantly among my relatives and friends, 
 and in the autumn returned to my studies with 
 renewed ardor and increased desire to improve 
 the numerous advantages with which I was 
 blessed. Professor Loughery s health had much 
 improved, and there was but one circumstance 
 which cast a shadow over our reunion, and that 
 
1 H MARY L. DAY, 
 
 was the intelligence our dear teacher, Miss 
 Moran, was about to leave us ; this information 
 giieved us very much ; she had been so gentle, 
 so good and kind, we thought no one else could 
 fill her place. But she was to be married, and 
 we were forced to yield the happiness of her 
 sweet presence to another who could prefer a 
 stronger claim. The evening previous to her 
 departure Cousin "William gave us a large party, 
 to which were invited the pupils and officers 
 of the Institution, besides other of my most in 
 timate friends, among whom was Dr. McCron, 
 who most agreeably entertained all present with 
 his lively and engaging conversational powers. 
 We went at an early hour, and shortly after 
 having assembled, we all repaired to the supper- 
 room, where we found oysters dressed in every 
 variety of manner awaiting our enjoyment. 
 Previous to taking our seats, Dr. McCron made 
 a short but appropriate prayer, after which we 
 did ample justice to the good things spread out 
 before us. 
 
 Having adjourned to the parlor, we played on 
 the piano, sang and conversed in the most lively 
 manner, Professors Loughery and Magruder 
 
/UNIVERSITY 
 
 THE BLIND GIRL.> 
 
 taking an active and prominent 
 countenance save one was beaming with plea 
 sure ; our dear teacher seemed sad, it was the 
 last evening she was to be with us, and we were 
 all deeply attached to her. The next day she 
 was to leave those who for three years had been 
 constantly with her. 
 
 A second time we repaired to the supper- 
 room, where was a table set in the most elegant 
 manner, covered with an abundance of confec 
 tionery and ices indeed, every thing that could 
 be mentioned. After spending another hour very 
 pleasantly together, we returned home, even 
 one expressing themselves as having passe* 
 a most charming and agreeable evening. Nr 
 unimportant personage at this most delightfa 1 
 entertainment was Cousin Samuel II., who is ; 
 great favorite with all at the Institution ; so at* 
 tentive and agreeable was he, that scarce a wish 
 could be conceived, much less expressed, before 
 he was close at hand to gratify it. His many kind 
 nesses to me I can not enumerate, and can only 
 desire that friends he may make may prove as 
 genial and a? faithful as he has ever been. 
 
Cousin William had not married again ; Cou- 
 sin Mary, a most estimable lady, taking charge 
 of his household and family arrangements. I 
 have ever found in her a true friend ; gentle in 
 manner, sensitive as the delicate aspen leaf, her 
 whole life has proved her 
 
 u A perfect woman nobly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort, and command ; 
 And yet a spirit still and bright, 
 With something of an angel light." 
 
 That the happiness she has conferred, return 
 upon her own heart fourfold, is my earnest 
 prayer. 
 
 The day Miss Moran left us, was one of 
 mournful interest ; we were all so much affected 
 we could scarce attend to our morning recita 
 tions. In the afternoon she bade us adieu, pro 
 mising often to visit us. 
 
 The following Monday, a lady to supply her 
 place was expected ; we all wondered what sort 
 of person she would be. Some thought she 
 couJd not possibly be as desirable as had been 
 our former friend ; others said they kneio she 
 would have a harsh voice, and be very disagree 
 able, and that she would be some old person 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 187 
 
 who would not allow any merriment or pleasure. 
 At last Monday came ; and with it arrived the 
 new teacher. Contrary to all surmises, she was 
 a sweet youthful girl a musical voice and 
 merry laugh, were not by any means by us 
 deemed her least desirable attractions. She 
 soon won the affections of the pupils, and 
 proved herself fuMy competent to her office, 
 though very young. Our necessities and little 
 pleasures seemed her constant and unceasing 
 study. We shall ever remember her as an 
 angel that flitted athwart our way, bringing 
 sunlight to chase the shadow. Wherever in 
 after-life her path may tend, she will bear with 
 her warm aspirations for her welfare from the 
 hearts of those whose way, though dark, she 
 has oft illumed by cheering word and radiant 
 smile. 
 
188 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 "AND every where, 
 Low voices with the ministering hand 
 Hung round the sick." TENNYSON. 
 
 " DEATH ! Beyond ! 
 Thou art sweet, thou art strange !" 
 
 E. BARRETT BROTVNING. 
 
 ""WHEN sorrows come, they come not single spies." 
 
 " One woe doth tread upon another s heel, 
 So fast they follow." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 ABOUT a year previous to our change in 
 teachers, a young lady from the Philadelphia 
 Institution for the Blind, paid us a visit, remain 
 ing with us, however, only a week, during which 
 time she instructed us in bead-work. Of this 
 we had availed ourselves with much earnestness, 
 and had learned to make a number of little fancy 
 articles. The happy Christmas time approach 
 ing, we determined to apply the proceeds of our 
 labor in this way towards making Mr. Loughery, 
 our beloved teacher and friend, some gift as a 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 189 
 
 token of the deep affection we entertained for 
 him. The amount realized from the sale of our 
 bead- work had been, from time to time during 
 the year, carefully hoarded. A meeting was 
 called, and the pupils expressed their wishes as 
 to its appropriation, and a gold chain and key 
 were decided upon. All our little plans had 
 been executed without his knowledge, and an 
 evening appointed to consummate the surprise. 
 It at last arrived. Prayers over, Dr. McKeuney 
 rose and said to Prof. Loughcry : " He would 
 be a principal actor in a little scene about to 
 take place." Prof. L. arose, and Miss McGinley 
 presented in a graceful manner our offering, ac 
 companied by a neat and touching address. 
 For several minutes he was too much affected 
 to speak. His emotions subsiding, he replied : 
 " I fully appreciate this, as it was purchased by 
 your first earnings. I prize it the more deeply 
 coming from those for whom and in whom I 
 feel such a deep interest, and shall preserve it 
 
 as long as I " His feelings quite overcame 
 
 him, he could say no more, therefore hurriedly 
 left the room. Every one present was affected 
 to tears. 
 
190 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 In wearing the chain and key, persons ob 
 serving it would remark how pretty it was he 
 would reiterate to them how dearly he prized 
 and with what pleasure he wore it. A memento 
 of the love of those knit to him by no ordinary 
 friendship. 
 
 The Legislature were now in session, and the 
 last of January we were going to Annapolis, 
 accompanied by the officers of the Institution, 
 and the Board of Directors. Our object was to 
 give a concert and exhibition, thereby endea 
 voring to excite an interest in our behalf, and 
 secure an appropriation for the purpose of im 
 proving and enlarging the Institution. Our 
 errand was deserving encouragement, as certain 
 changes, which money alone could accomplish, 
 were greatly needed. During our stay in Anna 
 polis we were the guests of Mr. Tidings, who 
 was extremely kind and attentive. The exhi 
 bition was the first we had attempted beyond 
 the walls of the Institution, yet we gave, as far 
 as we could learn, general satisfaction. We re 
 sumed to Baltimore delighted with our trip. 
 
 The following month Prof. L. was again in 
 Ajmapolis, pursuant of the effort we had made, 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. ^91 
 
 and endeavoring to bring as much influence to 
 boar in our behalf as he could. The Legisla 
 tors expressed themselves as having been as 
 tonished at our proficiency and delighted with 
 our musical performances, yet closed their ses 
 sion without granting our petition. So greai 
 was Prof. L. s disappointment, he returned hoim 
 ill. Dr. Haynel was called in, and pronounced 
 his disease congestion of the brain. We had 
 greatly missed our cherished friend during his 
 brief absence from us, and to have him return 
 so ill was indeed a severe distress. While feel 
 ing intensely anxious as to his recovery, I was 
 summoned to attend the funeral of my bolov d 
 Uncle B. He had been complaining about a 
 year, but we little thought his death so near. 
 The last time I was with him in life, I told him 
 before I met him again, I hoped he would be 
 better. He silently embraced me for a few mo 
 ments, then said : " Yes, my dear child, I shall 
 be better when we meet again." Ere again [ 
 sought his side he was a cold, inanimate corpse ; 
 his Bufferings ended, earth had forever passed 
 away, and heaven had become his everlasting 
 home. As I knelt by the sofa, whereon lay 
 
192 
 
 his loved form so cold and still, and pressed my 
 hand on his chilled brow, I thought of all his 
 benefits and tendernesses to me. I felt I had 
 lost one of my best friends, I followed in imagi 
 nation, his ransomed spirit, to realms of bliss 
 where angelic choristers hymn ever songs of 
 praise, and longed to loose this mortal coil, and 
 like him be forever free. How prayed I that 
 so would my Heavenly Father guide and pro 
 tect me, I might once again meet those who 
 had gone before, who had tracked the upper 
 stars and passed into Eternal Glory. 
 
 "We laid him in the silent tomb and left there 
 the form so dear ; but he felt not its gloom, heard 
 not the wailing voices of those who mourned, 
 for his spirit was afar off with "just men made 
 perfect." And as we call to mind his many 
 virtues : 
 
 " His memory, like some holy light, 
 
 Kept alive in our hearts will improve them ; 
 For worth shall look fairer and truth more bright, 
 When we think how he lived but to love them." 
 
 During the summer previous, Prof. L. had 
 bad several hemorrhages, and was now rapidly 
 wasting away from that fatal disease, consump- 
 
T11K 1!L!N1> (I IllU IDo 
 
 don. Dr. Hayncl did all human skill could do 
 to bring about his recovery, but in vain. Dr. 
 Johnson was consulted, the physician of the In 
 stitution, but unavailingly. Three others were 
 also consulted, but with the same hopeless re 
 sult. Nothing more could be done for him than 
 already had been done. 
 
 On learning this, our grief was indescribable, 
 for we loved him as dearly as though he were a 
 brother. His physicians advised he should go 
 to the country, as change of air might benefit 
 him some little. His brother came to take him 
 home to that mother whose parting tear he so 
 plaintively expressed and for whom there was 
 now in store bitter sorrow and many tears. 
 
 His parents were residents of Pennsylvania. 
 A few days after his brother s arrival he was 
 prepared to go. Never shall I forget the morn 
 ing of his departure. All the inmates of the 
 Institution assembled in his room to bid him a 
 long, a last farewell. One by one in silence 
 bade him good-by forever ; oh ! the agony of 
 emotions that swelled our heart?. We could 
 not speak, words would not come, they were 
 powerless in this hour of separation. Tears 
 
194 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 abundant copious tears, took their place, and 
 eloquently told the wealth of affection garnered 
 in our hearts for him who was now leaving us. 
 He too sobbed like a child, for severe as was 
 the trial to us, equally seemed it so to him. He 
 had been counsellor, brother, friend, and we 
 had drank rich draughts of knowledge from 
 lips that ere long would be hushed in death. 
 
 He was lifted from his couch and borne to 
 the carriage, and as it rolled away our grief 
 knew no bounds. It seemed as though we had 
 parted from our last, best friend. Just at this 
 time Mr. Newcomer entered and cheeringly 
 said to us : " Come, girls, you have dwelt long 
 enough upon the dark side, the other is all 
 bright and beautiful. Should Mr. L. never re 
 turn to you, you can go to him. If called to pass 
 Jordan s narrow stream, your loss, though great, 
 will be his infinite and everlasting gain." " I 
 know it is hard for you to part from him, but 
 God, who is too wise to err and too good to be 
 unkind, hath so ordained; therefore you must 
 try and be resigned ; to his will. In your grief 
 you have the consolation that you have ever 
 obeyed his counsels, that his instructions have 
 
THE BLiXD GIRL. 195 
 
 ever fallen on willing and ready hearts to fol 
 low the way he should guide. Then do not 
 murmur or repine at a dispensation rendered by 
 our Heavenly Father. He saw fit to rob him 
 of his manly strength and beauty, and we can 
 but submit." 
 
 Mr. N. had always been much beloved by 
 our little band, and these words of consolation 
 found us willing listeners; they calmed our 
 troubled spirits, and made him dearer to us than 
 he had ever been before. 
 
 The friends who were kind and attentive to 
 our beloved teacher during his illness, will ever 
 be remembered by us with deep emotions of 
 thankfulness. Miss Bond never wearied wait 
 ing upon him. Many a delicate attention from 
 her reached his couch of suffering soothingly , 
 she is indeed a noble-hearted woman. I too, 
 can recall her tender solicitude by a sick-bed, 
 for she has oft made less weary unto me, the 
 hours of languishing and pain. 
 
196 
 
 CIIAPTEK XXII 1. 
 
 "SooN may this fluttering spark of vital flame 
 Forsake its languid melancholy frame ! 
 Soon may these eyes their trembling lustre close; 
 Welcome the dreamless night of long repose." 
 
 CAMPBELL. 
 
 "AND they who before were strangers 
 Became straightway as friends to each other." 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " TIIERK is a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rongh-hew them as we will." SIIAKSPEARE. 
 
 " So fare thee well ! and may the indulgent gods 
 
 grant thee every wish 
 
 Thy soul can form ! Onee more, farewell !" 
 
 AFTER Mr. Lougherj s departure we were 
 very lonely, and it was thought best to dispel 
 this gloom by passing our evenings out from 
 the Institution among our friends. "With Miss 
 Bond I was kindly invited to Mr. Thomas Ami- 
 strong s, lie had lately married a very agree 
 able and interesting lady, formerly resident of 
 TIarford. A few days previous to this visit, I 
 had been so fortunate as to become aet 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. 
 
 with Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Armstrong s mother AVe 
 were mutually pleased ; she evinced deep in 
 terest in my welfare, also in that of the Institu 
 tion. Mr. Armstrong is a religious and gener 
 ous-hearted man, has great sympathy for the af 
 flicted. 
 
 Before going to tea we joined in singing a 
 beautiful hymn of praise, and Mr. A. kneeling 
 led us in prayer. "With my hand clasped in 
 good Mrs. Lee s, listening to that fervent prayer, 
 I felt as though in very truth the Holy Spirit hov 
 ered nigh, and I arose with my heart strength 
 ened to do his will and love him supremely. 
 This calm, genial evening will ever be recalled, aa 
 some bright oasis with purling brook and grassy 
 breast is remembered by the traveller who has 
 tracked the desert sands. Such hours cast a 
 glow of joy over our hearts, and we learn 
 
 " Friendship is not alone a name, 
 
 A charm that lulls to sleep ; 
 A shade that follows wealth or fame, 
 And leaves the wretch to weep." 
 
 Mrs. Lee returned home shortly afttr, and I 
 , not since met her ; yet happy am I to have 
 
MARY L. DAY, 
 
 learned she lias not forgotten me, though many 
 miles lay between us ; frequently I have re 
 ceived kind messages of love from her. May 
 her declining days be peaceful and happy, ir 
 radiated by the light of His countenance who is 
 the joy of her heart and her portion forever. 
 
 Dr. Wilson, (Mrs. Lee s brother,) upon visit 
 ing our Institution, expressed great interest and 
 sympathy in our behalf. Though I met him 
 but a fleeting hour, I found him social, genial, 
 wid most agreeable as a friend. 
 
 We were very anxious until we received in 
 telligence of Mr. Loughery s safe arrival home. 
 We still deeply felt his absence from us : two 
 of our number, Thomas Maxwell and William 
 Davis, were almost inconsolable. They had 
 watched and tended him clay and night during 
 his illness, devoting themselves to him with the 
 most unremitting attention. 
 
 The night before he bade them adieu, he gave 
 hem much good advice, also made each a pre 
 sent of a penknife, which they still possess, and 
 value very highly. 
 
 Thomas Maxwell had been thinking seriously 
 on the subject of i clip-ion during his teacher s 
 
THE BLIND U 1 1 .tf9 
 
 illness, and, I am happy to say, lias since been 
 converted, and has become a consistent member 
 of the Presbyterian Church. 
 
 Among the mementos of my dear departed 
 friend, I cherish a few lines penned for my 
 album. I give them to the reader, sanctified aa 
 they are to me by tender recollections and loved 
 .esociations. 
 
 THE QUEEX OF FLOWERS. 
 
 One clear summer night through the garden I strayed 
 
 With thoughts sad and pensive, alone ; 
 The pale moon was soaring in beauty above, 
 
 And gilding the earth as she shone. 
 The bright stars were studding the heavens like gemi 
 
 And watching the weary at rest ; 
 And mild, gentle zephyrs in fond, playful mirth, 
 
 The sweet sleeping flowers caressed. 
 
 Vhe roses were dreaming of beauty at morn, 
 
 As they slept in their own shady bowers, 
 4nd close by their side stood a figure divine, 
 
 The beautiful Queen of the Flowers. 
 She gazed on them fondly, e en Venus ne er looked 
 
 More charming, more lovely than she, 
 Sweet innocence played on the dimples that came, 
 
 And her smile was a heaven for me. 
 
200 
 
 " Aurora arose in her pure robe of light, 
 
 And chased the dull shadows away ; 
 The roses awoke from their beautiful dreams, 
 
 To welcome the bright orb of day. 
 The fair Queen of Flowers no longer remained, 
 
 She left them, T thought, with a sigh, 
 And dew-drops, like mirrors, reflected the love 
 
 That beamed as she smiled a good-by." 
 
 The Trustees of the Institution, finding Mr. 
 L. s " health not likely to be regained, engaged 
 Professor H. H. Bruning to instruct us. He 
 proved very competent, and we made progress 
 in our various studies. He endeared himself to 
 us by the sympathy he expressed for us in the 
 loss of oar former preceptor ; said he once had 
 a teacher whom he loved and respected as a 
 parent, and that having had to mourn his death, 
 he could feel for us in our separation from one 
 whom we had cherished so fondly. 
 
 We heard occasionally from Mr. L., but un 
 welcome the intelligence, for every letter but 
 ronfirmed the melancholy fact that he was ra 
 pidly declining, and that ere many moons had 
 waned, his earthly pilgrimage would have ended i 
 his sands of life quite run out. 
 
THE BLIND GIliL. 201 
 
 One afternoon, while assembled in our parlor, 
 Biddy entered, holding a letter scaled in black. 
 I can not describe the feeling that came over 
 me ; in an instant every voice was hushed, and 
 a deathlike stillness reigned. Miss McGniley 
 broke the seal, yet spoke no word. The sus 
 pense became painful, and we implored her to 
 let us know the worst. In a husky whisper she 
 replied : " Girls, he is gone I" Every heart was 
 bowed in grief these words had sped like ba rbed 
 arrows. Sobs and groans were heard through 
 every part of the building. Such sorrow I nuvcr 
 wish to witness again. Each inmate seemed to 
 feel they had lost their best friend. We could 
 scarce realize that a few months previous he had 
 been so well, cheerful, and happy, and was how 
 beneath the burial sod, the cold turf above him. 
 
 His words and actions arose to our memory, 
 and were lovingly treasured by us. And well 
 might we recall the past when he was with ua 
 and of us, for even in his dying moments we 
 were near unto him. Just before his spirit took 
 its heavenward flight, even when delirium waa 
 raging high, he talked of our stricken band; im 
 agined himself again in the school-room, or whii- 
 
202 MAUY L. DAY, 
 
 ing the hours away in discoursing sweet melodies 
 to us. But he has gone, and we are left to sigh 
 and weep that earth knoweth him no more. 
 
 lie would sometimes say, could he have his 
 two homes together, he should get well faster. 
 But he was not to be restored to health; the 
 fiat had gone forth, and it became our duty to 
 say, "Thy will be done, Lord !" and strive 
 to subdue the sorrow surging in our hearts. 
 Sweet friend, 
 
 " Light be the turf of thy tomb ! 
 
 May its verdure like emeralds be ; 
 There should not be the shadow of gloom, 
 In aught that reminds us of thee. 
 
 " Young flowers and an evergreen tree, 
 
 May spring from the spot of thy rest ; 
 But nor cypress nor yew let there be, 
 
 For why should we mourn for the blest ?" 
 
 In two weeks after Mr. Loughery s death, one 
 <f our pupils, Siimmerfield Bassford, a young ma n 
 <f fine promise, aged twenty years, exchanged 
 
 ;his world for a brighter and far happier one. 
 
 Death had entered our band and stolen from it 
 
 two shining marks, transplanting them to bloom 
 
 in heaven. 
 
THE BLIND GIKL. 203 
 
 Again vacation was drawing near. I was 
 glad to obtain release from duty, for the sorrow 
 of the last two months had greatly impaired my 
 health, and I sadly needed surcease from toil. 
 
 Cousin Charles Harriman kindly invited me 
 to pass my vacation with his family. This in 
 vitation I readily availed myself of, for I felt 
 sure it would recruit both my health and spirits. 
 Accordingly the day-school closed; I left for 
 Westminster. You may, gentle reader, fancy 
 my pleasure in again greeting my cousin s family, 
 not having seen them for two years. They tried 
 every means to divert my thoughts from the sad 
 past, and at the close of my hours of idleness I 
 returned to my duties, feeling much improved 
 physically, and more cheerful than when I had 
 laid them aside to seek the invigorating influence 
 of country air and healthful exercise. 
 
 During my absence Dr. McKenncy had re 
 signed the superintendence of the Institution, 
 and the Board of Directors were about supply 
 ing his place. As may be supposed, the in 
 mates were very solicitous as to who mifjht be 
 elected to the post. Much of their comfort and 
 improvement depended upon this decision* 
 
204 MARY L. DAY, 
 
 Would it be some one who would sympathize 
 with them as Mr. Loughery had done? Or 
 would he deem his office not one of tender 
 friendship, and loving, Christian counsel, but as 
 hat of mentor, whose word was a law irrevoca 
 ble? 
 
 At length the day arrived upon which the 
 
 mportant decision was to be made. After the 
 
 Adjournment of the Board, Mr. McIIemy, its 
 
 vorthy President, came and informed us Mr. 
 
 Charles Keener had been elected. Though a 
 
 stranger to us all, yet the appointment pleased ; 
 
 we felt he would prove all we could possibly 
 
 desire. 
 
 We were now daily expecting his arrival. It 
 was quite as much a matter of debate among 
 the pupils as had been that of other expected 
 officers. As in previous instances, his voice was 
 anticipated as likely to be indicative of his 
 disposition towards us. We did not fancy it 
 would be harsh or severe, but a sort of internal 
 sonsciousness seemed to inform us it would be 
 kind and gentle. Yet prepossessed as we were 
 disposed to be in the stranger s favor, still we 
 thought he could not possibly be just like our 
 loved and lamented friend and teacher. 
 
TIIK 15UXI) r.IUL. 205 
 
 Four weeks elapsed ere Mr. K. came ; when 
 one morning all assembled in the school-room 
 to receive the new arrival, which was to us of 
 so much moment. How eagerly we listened for 
 the first sound his lips should utter ; it was to 
 be the index of our future. He spoke a f. \v 
 pleasant words of greeting, and the magic tonr 
 of kindness was not wanting. A smile flitted 
 over each countenance. He would prove as wt 
 had thought he would. Mr. K. ever referred in 
 a kind and sympathetic manner to our bereave 
 ment in the death c f Professor L., saying he felt 
 for us and with us in losing so dear a friend. 
 This appreciation of our sorrow made him at 
 once seem very near to us, and from each heart 
 went up a prayer that his life be long spared, 
 that he may tread the paths of usefulness, dis 
 pensing light and cheer to all whose sun is dark 
 ened here below. 
 
 And now, gentle reader, the simple story of 
 my life is told. You mayhap have met but- 
 little to win upon your fancy, yet these pages 
 are the heart-history of one whose way has in- 
 de - I been fraught with vicissitude. Gleams of 
 isht have shone forth, even when the hour 
 
20(? MARY L. DAY. 
 
 was darkest, bidding my sad heart cheer, no 
 day so dark but hath a bright to-morrow. If 
 you have paused to shed a tear over any line 
 or one emotion of sympathy has swelled your 
 bosom in behalf of the lonely, friendless wan 
 derer, then have you called forth gratitude from 
 the heart of one keenly alive to what of joy 
 may be her portion. 
 
 While wending your onward footsteps to the 
 grave s shadowy portals, may no cloud obscure 
 the light of your earthly horizon, and when with 
 its icy chill shall steal death s hand over the 
 heart once responsive to the ennobling emotions, 
 pity, friendship, love, may an angel beai i,o the 
 home of the blessed your ransomed soul. . 
 forever with the Lord. 
 
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