The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-06-29

the captain ahd mate of the Sally were think
nag OF, don,s know; bat they put the child on
dry land, with the balance Of the passengers,
and get sail without so much as looking up a
New York packet. Alone in Liverpool-and
LIS no place for blind child, sir to say moth
ing of one that's got eyes-I found her. anu.
sing 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 sayP, keeps watch over chill
dren; II he don't over US grown-up sinners |!
IL seems she had never wanted for berth nor
mess. Il 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 Pm taking her. If | can't anchor
her safely, PHI keep her for first mate of the
Down. hey, sea-bird 2"
What could you do with her in that terrible
storm off Cape Clear! l shudder TO recollec.
that night ~
WELL sir, while you were lying fiat on your
back, and the rest OF us were hurrying, haul
ing and pulling hither and thither, working for
dear life against the winds end waves, the pref
ty creature was rolling about the cabin floor
elapp;ng her hands as though she were in an
| apple-tree swing and fosnd it capital fun !
When | tumbled down to my locker for five
minutes' rest, found her on her knees, in her
httie night Wrapper, saying, Our Father and
felt sure no storm would sink the ship with
her on it y
Poor mother of Mittie! 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
Mittie, poor sightiess Mittie, who could learn
little in that uncivilized land. So, with many
tears and prayers, that missionary mother had
aJ--l L
her in the care of o friend-the Englsh lady
country What but mothers prayer guard
ed the helpless darling in her lonely wander
ings
On arriving at New York, Captain / and
Mr.. - mado inquiry everywhere for Mr..
Wythe. Directories were searched streets ran
sscked, aad questions repeated hundreds CT
times, to no purpose. No relative of the poor
blind Mite could be found.
"Leave her with me, captain, said Mr.. -.
" | am soon to return to London, bat, before
sailing, | will place her in an asylum for the
blind, and see that she is comfortably cared
forn
Instead however, of placing Mittie in the
State Asylum Of New York her friend took
her to Southern city, where he had business
connections, and left her in one Of those beau
b;ncd 20 adoTn for those whose eyes tell not
night from day, nor beauty from deformity.
Kind voices welcomed the little stranger,
bat they were voices she had never heard, nor
hoped to hear. For the first tima sirco she
sobbed good-by on her mothers lap, her hope
and faith faltered. Shs felt that she was alone
In the world, and she sought out q corner to
cry. Had the superintendent particularly in
terested himself il the child, he would have
found out her history, and probably have
sought sons communication with her parents.
But setting down her name as charity schol
ar, he forgot that she was not an orphan.
And Mr.. L? His syDpathios had been
strongly enlisted add be really intended to fad
out the mystery. But he was man bf the
world, and immersed in ;ts busy cares. Having
placed a 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
homeland only remembered the blind child OF
the voyage ct moments when his own laughing
Carrie climbed into bis lap.
One among hundred children, Mittie was
we'll educated In all that the blind can learn.
She was taught how to read the Bible, from
which her mother had read to her, by passing
her small fingers over the curiously raised let
tiers She learned to SOW to braid, and to
write--strange thoughts that young head used
to frame, for that unsteady hand to jot down
in It's crooked wanderiDgs over the paper. She
learned to sing sweet hymns of her school
mates, and to touch for herself the keys Of tho
piano, whose melodies had almost made her
fancy herself in heaven, only that she had been
told that in heaven she should see like other
children! Sometimes, in her dreams, she would
find herself on soft couch, with strange per
fumes and sounds about her, and would feel
warm tears dropping one by one, on her fore
head, while dear arm pressed her closely.
"Motber dear mother" Mittie would cry
and wake--to fad no mother.
Years had passcd-when again a ship was
nearing the forests Of masts in New York har-
Dor. On the deck sat a pale lady, in deep
mourning with traces Of tears upon her checks
Her children chung about her, With wonder in
their faces.
"Oh, beautiful America the America you
have 20 often told us about" cried a sweet
voiced girl Of twelve. Mamma, does it look
as il did when you went away"
Mamma, did you live in any of those great
houses!n
"Ma, ma! plenty Pdgodas here!" chimed
in the youngest boy, whose eye bad taken in
the numerous church spires All spoke at
once, but the mother answered neither Her
heart was too full She had gone from that
shore, a happy BRIDE and hopeful; she was re-
turning, widow, broken in health and spirits
to place Ter children with her relatives, and
then, as she believed, to lay her bones in the
tomb of her kindred. One hope only made her
heart bound, and her pale cheek grew paler
as she looked on that shore of her nativity, for
the first time in twenty years.
ooh, God could / see all my children be-
fore die ~ she faltered.
| pass over the scene Of her landing, ard
welcome to the house of her brother will
not stop to tell you how many wonders the In
dian-born children found in American city cus-
toms and sights; for | must hasten to the end
of my story.
at is impossible, sister," said her brother to
the pale lady, one morning, in answer TO some
expression The child could never have
reached this country. We never, as you know,
have traced her farther than England and if
she had been brought here, she could not have
failed to find me- or | her"
The widow sighed. Goods will be done! F"
she murmured But it is hard to feel that
my little helpless innocent-my eldest born
YVES sent from me to perish alone. Often | feel
as if it could not bc-as if che were yet alive
and should find her at some dey"
Providentially, as it proved, the mother was
led 20 search the catalogues of various institu-
tons for tie blind, long in vain. At length,
she obtained circular from r distant city,
and glanced over it indiferently, go often had
she been disappointed. Her heart sprung to
her lips as she saw the name "Meta w. Ham
iltono
"Brother!" she gasped, extending the paper
to him.
He looked and shook his head "Fm afraid
you are expecting too much, my poor sister.
Matilda was your darling's name; and then
how should she stray to that corner of the
United States?"