The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1913-07-03
A Renaissance
Otto Mobile

When the writer was kid; that
is young kid, of eight, there came
to the town in Wisconsin, a blind
man. Perched on the top of gild-
ed and decorated exhibit wagon,
his big, black SLOUGH hat pulled well
over his eyes and whistlrng cheerily
while his hired driver clicked rath-
er mpatiently at the well-fed and
glossy pair of small horses, he drove
into a vacant lot and was immediate
ly surrounded by skinny, pug-nosed
and freckled- faced kids of all de-
scriptions; | being one Of the awe
struck bunch. The horses were
unhitched and led TO feedstable
while the blind man, with hands
accustomed to the task, raised the
seat and took forth a tin wash basin
which he filled and after removing
his baggy coat and romantic hat
romantic to our eyes-he removed
the stains of travel with care, and
as carefully combed his timing
hair and bushy beard after which
he was ready to start business. He
unlocked a door at the rear end
of his wagon pulled down a set
of steps, put up stand and last of
all brought out his attractor; di-
lapidated hand organ.
All of this time he had talked to
the bunch in his kind, cheerful, yet
resigned voice, so by the first stroke
of the organ there was not one of
us who would't have worked his
head off for him. Yours truly; the
inquisitive, was the first 10 want to
grind the crank, at least, he was the
first to ask. After deity running
his hands over my features he pro-
claimed me blue-eyed, tow headed,
freckle-f faced and fit to operate the
organ. I was. fguratively speak
ing, the cock O. the walk from then
on. | worked every spare minute
for him for two weeks; carried his
laundry. swept the wagon, polished
the mirrors, and, during business
hours saw to it that none of the
kids took advantage of his blind
ness to sneak in and view with won
der the two sinking Armodilloes or
Mexican grave-diggers, the side
arms of Jesse James, the Cavalry
sword of Gen. u. S. Grant and
old Badly" the stuffed eagle.
The blind man became my conf
dent and in return told me Of ad-
ventures he had been through. One
night. feeling morose, he let slip
the idea that he would give any
earthly possession to be like me
with two good eyes.
For the past week the corrugated
melodies of a grind organ, appar-
emily located under the bluff on
which "Four-double- o. ones" pied
piper piped his tunes. came floating
in the open windows to our cliff
dwelling; it has the same squeak of
another organ years ago and If |
could but hear the old strains OF
Meet me in St. Louis, Louie" Ia
be sure it was my blind man. But,
alas! THE River Shannon" has TAX
en- place of the other familiar strain,
but who knows, perhaps he has
bought new organ.
Aristotle is acclaimed as saying:
"Mortals are never satisfied; when it
rains, they wish it TO shine; when
their neighbor is ladened with rich
es, they likewise would share his
riches,'' etc. The thought has been
driven home the past week. Would
this old blind man care to change
pieces with me now? All, no! But
|, | would give all my earthly pos
sessions to be on that platform
grinding out the strains Meet me
in st. Louis, Louie," and hearing
the nickels tinkle into the drawer.