New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-07-17
MIrTIE, THE BLIND cHrLp
By MARY IRVING.

that He has given to drink in the pleasant sun
shine, the beauty of the flowers, the glory Of til
rainbow, and the sweetness Of your dear mother
smile! Listen, now, to the story Of child /
whom de never gave eyes to look upon any o
these beautiful things
II was on sunshiny morning, some where ii
the middle Of the Atlantic Ocean, that a gentle
man, whom seasickness had imprisoned in hi
state-room since the first roll Of the ship, tool
courage, from cup of coffee and the calmness 3
the sea, to crawl upon deck. AS he stood at th
head Of the narrow stairway, clutching o ron
to support his tottering steps, he heard a plat
ohild's laugh Looking up, he saw a little Girl
about five years old, quite at her ease. on til,
turning and rolling floor, trying to 6 jump rope'
with knotted end of ship rigging, which f1ae
been given her by an old sailor. The brisl
breeze had frightened her cheeks, and curIet
her flowing hair in no very orderly manner
the ocean, and his eyes filled,
6 Come to me, my dear,'' he kindly called
reaching his hand towards the child.
She stopped her play, looked up as though
half frightened, half astonished and then bega1
carefully to creep towards the out. stretched
hand. He lifted her to his lap and kissed he,
coral lips. Whose little girl are you:,, b,
inquired.
g Pm nobody's little girl,s she replied, in
touching tone. "0nly God takes care Of me
and sometimes Captain II
:" How where is mamma 90
Mamma is in Burrampooter, I'm not hel
little girl any more,' here q tear rolled dow1
her cheek. Pm going to New York. ? said she
'sto be uncle's little girl; but New York is {
great way off, isn't it, sir 2"
{ Not very long way, my child you viii
soon see your uncle
ssI can't see, sir.' said she, softly.
MIR. l.. startled, and looked down into those
bright, dark, intelligent eyes. Alasl it was tot
true! They were darkened windows through
which the soul could never look!
!" Mittiel hey, Mittie p called bluff voice
as the captains vanished hat appeared from
behind the mast. Eh, birdie, what new nest
have you found 20
With start and bound, Mittie jumped into
his rough arms, and laid her cheek upon ths
shoulder Of bis shaggy coat sleeve
Soho. 8hipmate,'' continued the captain
addressing Mr.. L., ssyou are a1oft at last
Nothing like a stiff Nor-wester for taking ths
starch out of your landsfolk,' p and be laughed
" But this little girl, Captain L., how
happens she to be alone on the wide world o1
waters ~
sCan't say" returned the captain, with 3
dubious shake of his shining hat i" She's q
waif that l picked up on the Liverpool docks
Don't know her belongings; she was labelled
For New York. it seems. Her name What's
the balance of it, sea bird.a he asked.
Mittie Wythe Hamilton lisped the child
who had already found her way ba6k to her bill
Of rope and sat against the ships railing, toss
ing up her hands at every new dash of spray
s was named for Uncle Wythe, and he told
mamma to send me- Her face clouded for an
instant, then frightened again in the sunshine.
Poor blind peti SO far as | can make out her
story, from one thing and another, she is the
child of missionaries in India. Poor creatures
they could not bring her over themselves, and /
dare say she was getting no good in that hea-
thenish land; 80 it seems they put her in charge
Of lady, whose namo Eve forgotten, who set
out to join her husband, some where in Canada.
But sickened and died before the bark Sally
reached England, and the poor thing was left
friendless and helpless What the captain and
mate of the Sally were thinking Of don't know
but they put the child on dry land, with the
balance Of the passengers, and set sail without
SO much as looking up New York packet.
Alone in Liverpool, and it's no place for blind
child, sir, to say nothing Of one that's got eyes,
/ found her amusing herself pretty much as you
see her now, with bits of chips, at the corner Of
ship-yard. How the creature had lived. /
can't say. Pll believe after this, shipmate,
there's God in the sky, who, as she says, keeps
watch over children, if He don't over us grown
up sinners! 1t seems she never wanted for q
berth nor mess. / want to go to New York,
she would say to every stranger who spoke to
her. couldn't have left the little thing; but
don't know where I'm taking her.. If / can't
anchor her safely, IN keep her for first mate Of
the Down-hey, sea-bird %
ssWhat could you do with her in that terrible
storm off Cape Clear? shudder to recollect
that night!''
Well, sir, while you were lying fiat on your
back, and the rest of us were hurry ing, hauling
and pulling hither and thither, working for dear
life against the winds and waves, the pretty
creature was rolling about the cabin floor, clap
ping her hands as though she were in an apple
tree swing, and found it capital fun! When /
tumbled down to my locker for five minutes rest,
! found her on her knees, in her little night
wrapper, saying Our Father and felt sure
no storm would sink the ship with her on it -
Poor mother of Matte how her heart was
Wrung at sending her blind, trusting child from
her arms! But her brother in America had
written, telling her that he would provide for
Mttie-poor sightless Mittie-who could learn
little in that unciyilized land. So, with many
tears and prayers, that missionary mother had
packed her Mittie's small trunk, and placed her
in the care of friend-the English lady before
mentioned-to be transported to our country.
What but mothers prayer guarded the help
less darling in her lonely wanderings!
On arriving at New York, Captain L. and
Mr. T. made inquiry every where for Mr.. Wythe.
Directories were searched, streets ransacked.
and questions repeated hundred times, to no
purpose. No relative of the poor, blind Mittic
could be found.
s Leave her with me, Captain said MIR. L.;
6 m soon to return to London, but before sail
ing will place her in an asylum for the blind,
and see that she is comfortably cared for
Instead, however, of placing Mittie in the
State Asylum of New York, her friend took her
to Southern city, where he had business con-
nections, and left her in one of those beautiful
retreats which nature and art have combined
to adorn for those whose eyes tell not night from
day, nor beauty from deformity
Kind voices welcomed the little stranger, but
they were voices she had never heard, nor hoped
to hear. For the first time since she sobbed
good-by on her mothers lap, her hope and faith
faltered. She felt that she was alone in the
world, and sought out corner to cry. Had
the Superintendent particularly interested him
self in the child, he would have found out her
history, and probably sought some communica-
tlon with her parents; but, setting down her
name as charity scholar, he forgot that she
was not an orphan.
Z And Mr.. L His sympathies had been
strongly enlisted, and he really intended to find
out the mystery. But he was man of the
world, and immersed in it's busy cares. Having
placed sum Of money for her use in the hands
of the director, with permission to apply to him
IN any emergency, he returned to his English
home, and only remembered the blind child Of
the voyage at moment ts when his own laughing
Carrie climbed into his lap
n.< .15.Y