The Princeton union., 1881-08-25
THE BLIND MANS WREATH.
= Dying Mothers Yearning for Her Blind
Sonia Wreath for q hall that Bound Two
Hearts Forever Together.

Ny boy, my poor blind boy!"
IhIs sorrOwful exclamation broke from
the lips of Mrs. Owen. as she lay upon the
scouch to which a long and wasting illness
S1,ad confined her, aud whence she well
ranew she never more was to rise.
Her son, the only son Of her widowed
heart, the sole object Of her cares and at
Mectons, knelt beside her, his face bowed
0pon the pillow, for now only, in moment
of solemn communion with his mother, had
'she revealed the fatal truth, and told him
eshe must soon die. He had watched. and
hoped, and trembled for many weary
'snonths, but never yet had he admitted to
himself the possibility of losing her; her
fading cheek and sunken eye could not re-
veal to him the progress OF decay, and so
song as the loved voice maintained its music
TO his ear and cheered him with promise of
improvement, SO long as her hand still
caasped his, he had hoped she would re-
cover
He had been blind since he was three
gears old; stricken by lightning, he had
sotaily lost his sight. A dim remembrance
OF his widowed mother face, her smooth
Ay braided hair, and flowing white dress.
'aas one of the few recollections retained
with the period before all became dark to
him.
The boy grew up tall, slender, delicate;
with the dark pensive eyes which bore no
trace of the calamity that had DESTROYED
their power of vision; grave though not sad;
dreamy, enthusiastic, and requiting his
nus mether's care with the deepest yenera-
zion and Tenderness. In the first wears
OF his childhood, and also whenever
<sass education did not take them to London
5" "sad elsewhere, they had resided near a town
: on the seacoast, in one of the prettiest parts
of England. :
Independently of the natural kindness
which rarely fails TO be shown toward anv
person who is blind, there was that about
'sooeh the widow and her son which invaria-
"biy rendered them acceptable guests; fol
a1neir intellectual resources and powers of
conversation were equally diversified and
uncommon, Mrs. Owens lad studied
much IN order to teach her son, and thus
by improving her natural abilities, had be-
come person Of no common stamp, her
ellectuality, however, being always sub
servient to, and ftly shadowed by, the su-
sperier attributes of love, gentleness, and
sympathy; for heaven help the woman in
Ss"nom these gifts are not predominant over
any mental endowments whatever
When they walked out together his moth
sr TOOK his arm; he was proud of that; he
aAked TO think ne was some support to her,
and many pltylng eyes used latterly to fol-
low the figure of the widow in the black
sfress she constantly wore, and the tall.
pste son on whom she leaned confidingly.
as If striving with sweet deception to con-
vince him that he was indeed the staff of
declining strength. But gradually the
mothers form grew bent, her step dragged
'sVearlly along and the expression of her
face indicated increasing weakness. The
8Natks were at an end; and before long she
was too feeble to leave her bed, excepting
TO be carried to sum ner parlor. where
she lay upon sofa beside an open window.
with flowers twining around the easement.
and the warm sunshine filling all things
with JOY save her foreboding heart, and
,.he ANXIOUS son necessarily hanging over
her- Friends often came to visit them.
and turned away with deep sadness as they
noted the progress of her malady. and
heard the blind man ask each time whether
shey did not think her better-oh, surely.
. little better than when they had last be-
acid her.
Among all these, no friend was so welcome
or brought such sollce to the sick rooms
ss Mary Parker, joyous girl Of niaeteep,
oho'uf tue beauties of the county. and
the admiration and delight of ali who
knew her. Mrs. Owen had danced Marv
upon her knee, and Edward used to weave
baskets and make garlands for her when
lB Nv rs u boy of twelve, and she a little
fairy of six years old and thereabout, stood
beside him, praising his skill, and word der
sng how he could manage so cleverly.
though blind, None of his companions
ever: led him so careful as Mary, or SEEM
adso much impressed with his mental
Superiority; she would leave those games
Ut her playmatos in which his blindness
prevented him from joining, and would
listen for hours to the stories with which
ais memory was we'll stored, or which his
own Imagination enabled him to invent.
AS she grew up there was no change in
Mary still made him the re-
cipient Of her girlish secrets, and plans and
dreams, Just as she had done Of her little
griefs and joys in childhood; asked him to
quote his favorite passages of poetry, or
station herself near him at the piano, sug-
gested subjects for him to play, which he
'sxtem poEized at her bidding. Bright and
slooming as Mary was, the light Of every
sasrty, beaming with animation and enjoy
ment, no attention was capable of render
ing her unmindful of him; and she was
ssften known to sit out several dances in an
-yvening to talk to dear Edward Owen, who
EouId be sad if he thoughthimself neg
fected.
And now she daily visited the invalid;
Eler buoyant spirits tempered by sympathy
for her increasing sufferings; but still diff
tfusing such an atmosphere of sunshine
and hope around her, that gloom and de-
,spondency seemed to vanish at her pres
ence. Edwards sightless eyes always
Eaised to her bright face, as if he felt the
magic influence it impaired.
His mother had noted all this with q
nnothers watchfulness; and, on that day,
when strong in her love, she had under
4Rken to break to him the fact which all
0thers shrank from communicating, she
spoke likewise of Mary, and of the vague
Wild hope she had always cherished of one
day seeing her his wife.
GNo, mother, mol" exclaimed tho blind
man. Dear mother, in this you are not
true to yourself! What! Would you wish
TO see her, in all her spring time Of youth
and beauty, sacrificed to such one as r.
to see Mary, as you have described her to
zne, as my soul tells me she is, tied down
to be the guide and leader and support of
one wLo could not make one step in her
defense; whose helplessness alone in the
eyes of men would be his means Of shell
4ering and protecting her? Would you hear
her pitied-our bright Mary pitied-as q
blind mans wife, mother?"