The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1900-07-21
Aqggje--M Who Was Blind.
81 BERTHA Sc l,EY SAJN/ER

=. dow sill was quite clean-and W
might say quite worn out for til
day, Mercy set up her clothes-pi
dolls and made them go a-callinc. Sb
talked for both Of them, and had the,
drag their dawdy calico trails owe
the winlow-sill pavement with
swish of style and pride.
Mercy never went down into th
halls to play with the other childre,
OF the house, nor yet into the street
Mum Maggie forbade it.
"These childrcn," she had said
'are not very nice--and then there i,
to be the letter" Mercy must watcl
and listen for the postman to cal
their names. Everything depended
upon that letter. Mum Maggie could
give up the movable office when the
letter had come. 1t had been ex
pected for two ysars-ever since Papa
John died. It was going to give Mum
Maggie the first place that was vacant
among the teachers at the school for
the blind where Papa John had
taught.
And SO when the postman stood at
the street door and whistled, Mercy
ran to the stairway and listened.
Everyone on all the floors did. too
and the rickety old banisters fairly
brist!ed with raggedy heads when he
called ont the names Of the fortunate
ones. Thus far he had not called
"himber," and Mercy often pursed
her lips and told her clothes pin dolls
that he never would.
A parade was ever great trial to
Mercy. She grew SO excited and so
eager to be in it or near 1t that while
it was passing she had to stand on
the very tip-toe of one foot One
hand held the other foot while another
hand held fast to the window sill. and
the little solemn face was pressed
against a square Of glass. Many a
time she thought of rushing down the
stairs. But she stayed. ''Mum Mag
gle" must be obeyed. Mum was little.
but she was mighty. She just had to
be obeyed
'I'll go with you TO down town
when I'm g." she used to say; '.that'll
make me big 'nough, won't 6 vears?"
Dear, DEAR" laughed Maggie.
"How could l ever get through the
crowds and crossings with only baby
OF to see for me-"
The crowds were thicker than usual
one day-it was the day of the grand
parade. The president was passing
through the city on his way home to
Washington, and the people were out
to welcome him. The noises roared.
and the feet tramped and scuffed. The
little tin cup was emptied often, al
though Mrs. Maggie did not quite un-
derstand.. She had not heard of the
great parade. She read on and on;
then she listened and waited. At last
the notes of bugle reached her, then
the drum beats and the tramp, tramp
of feet. She ceased reading. A faint
shout came to her. Tie people were
cheering, and she heard the magic
name Of the president as the sounds
became clearer.
A sudden fright posse ,sed Maggie.
Evidently the parade was marching
,oward her Office and she knew that
he sidewalks would be iammed with
people, and she but tiny, helpless
woman at the mercy Of the throng.
Onward marched the feet. First
'ame the shouting boys and few men,
hen men, women and children.
Mamma Maggie had hardly a chance
o catch her breath before she was in
he midst Of the rush, aud actually
arriea along, inch by inch, on the
mooth pavement as she sat in the low
title chair.
''The Lord is with me-" she
bought, as she folded her trembling
myers over the big closed book. "He
ill not suffer my feet to be moved.
he thought it in an agony; then
he resolved to say it. She made her
oice loud and high-her strong street
oice she used, and at the clear words
big man turned and looked down.
"You seem to be moving, though,
hair and all" T." he said. ''Here, boys,
md hand. Lift her up"
Many strong hands laid hold of the
hair. .
''What shall we do with her?" thew
'ked. "There's no place to set her
own"
Garry her along, then," was the
Isty answer.
And SO, almost at the head of the J
'owd, sat .Mum Maggie" marching
} the measured tread of feet with the I
.nd playing and the president him.
If following in his carriage. And |
70 people shouted, and the horses =
lamped and pranced and the presi- l
ant did the honors. a
'eIhey are going south. and very !