The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-06-29
MiTTIE, THE BLIND GILL
BY MARY IRVING.

| Did you ever thank God for your eyes, dear
children? Those two bright, clear, Apply eyes
that He has given to drink in the pl asant sun
shine, the beauty of the flowers, u q glory Of
the rainbow, and the sweetness Of your dear
mothers smile Listen, now, to tn story of a
child to whom He never gave eyes Il lock upon
my of these beautiful things.
| 1t was on a sunshiny morning omewbere
| in the middle Of the Atlantic ooe n--that q
/ gentleman, whom eeasickness had imprisoned
in Ills state-room since the fret roll # the ship
took courage, from cup of cefi and the
calmness of the sea, to crawl upon deck. Az
he stood at the head of the marrow stairway
clutching q rope TO support his tote ting stepe,
he heard a glad child's laugh Leo !ipg up be
saw little girl about five years c d, quite at
her ease, on the turning and rolling floor, try
! ing to "jump rope" with knot.ed I'D Of ship
| rigging, which had been given he; by an old
sailor. The brisk breeze had brig ltened her
cheeks, and curlei her flowing hail in no very
orderly manner. Mf l.. thought # bis own
little daughter over the ocean, a d his eye;
| fl led.
Come to me, my dear!' he ki .dly called
reaching his hand towards the Chi !.
She stopped her play, looked up as though
half frightened, half astonished; ID then be
gan carefully to creep toward the tats!retched
| coral lips.
"Whose little girl are you?D he inquired.
"Pm nobody's little girl" she Piled in a
touching tone. Only God takes re of nae
and sometimes Captain T."
"How, where is your mamma? ~
Mamma is In Burrampootcr; m not her
little girl any mere "--here tear oiled down
her cheek. "Fm going to New York she
said, 4" to be upcle's little girl. Blu New York
is q great way eff, isn't it, sir }"
Not very long ways my chiia-you will
soon see your uncle"
a can't see, sir" che said, softly
MIR L. startled, and looked dowA into those
bright, dark, intelligent eyes. Alas it was
/ too true! they were darkened windows, through
which the soul could never lcok
.Mittie! hey, Mittie!" called g bluff voice,
as the captains vanished hat appeared from
| behind the mast "Eh, birdie, what new nest
have you founde"
With start and e bound, Mite jumped
into his rough arms, AID laid her cheek upon
the shoulder OF his shaggy cca. sleeve.
"So-ho, shipmate,' continued the captain.
addressing Mr.. l. "you are alofs ct last.
| Nothing ike stiff nor'wester for taking the
starch out of your landsfolk." And he laughed
But this little girl, Captain -, how hap
pens she to be alone on the wide world OF
waters!"
Cant say,n returned the captain, with a
dubious shake of his shining hat She's a
stray waif that 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 = be asked.
"Mittie Wy.he Hamilton" lispea the child,
who had already found her way, back to her
bit of rope, and sat against the ships railing,
tossing up hands at every new dath of spray.
az was named for Uncle Wythe, and he told
mamma to send mo-" Her face cIthded for an
instant, then frightened again in tae sunshine
"Poor blind pet! SO far as | O. make out
her story from one thing and anott 1r she is the
child of missionaries in India. Pc r creatures
they could not. bring her over the oselves, and
1 dare say sh8 was getting no pod in that
heathenish land; so it seems ther put her in
charge of an English lady, name I've forgotten
who set out to join her husband somewhere in
| Canada Bot she sickened and died before the
barque Sally reached England, sad the poor
thing was left friendless and helpless. What