“I wonder,” went on Dotty to herself, “if they should tease God very hard, would he let their eyes come again?  No, I s’pose not.”

Then she reflected further that perhaps they were glad to be blind; she hoped so.  The teacher now called out a class in geography, and began to ask questions.

“What can you tell me about the inhabitants of Utah?” said she.

“I know,” spoke up a little boy with black hair, and eyes which would have been bright if the lids had not shut them out of sight,—­“I know; Utah is inhabited by a religious insect called Mormons.”

The superintendent and visitors knew that he meant sect and they laughed at the mistake; all but Dotty and Flyaway, who did not consider it funny at all.  Flyaway was seated in a chair, busily engaged in picking dirt out of the heels of her boots with a pin.

Horace was much interested in the atlases and globes, upon the surface of which the land rose up higher than the water, and the deserts were powdered with sand.  These blind children could travel all about the world with their fingers as well as he could with eyes and a pointer.

The teacher—­a kind-looking young lady—­was quite pleased when Mr. Parlin said to her,—­

“I see very little difference between this and the Portland schools for small children.”

She wished, and so did the teachers in the other three divisions, to have the pupils almost forget they were blind.

She allowed them to sing and recite poetry for the entertainment of their visitors.  Some of them had very sweet voices, and Mrs. Clifford listened with tears.  Their singing recalled to her mind the memory of beautiful things, as music always does; and then she remembered that through their whole lives these children must grope in darkness.  She felt more sorrowful for them than they felt for themselves.  These dear little souls, who would never see the sun, were very happy, and some of them really supposed it was delightful to be blind.

Their teacher desired them to come forward, if they chose, and repeat sentences of their own composing.  Some things they said were very odd.  One bright little girl remarked very gravely,—­

“Happy are the blind, for they see no ghosts.”

This made her companions all laugh.  “Yes, that’s true,” thought Dotty.  “If people should come in here with ever so many pumpkins and candles inside, these blind children wouldn’t know it; they couldn’t be frightened.  I wonder where they ever heard of ghosts.  There must have been some naughty girl here, like Angeline.”

CHAPTER II.

Emily’s trials.

At three o’clock the little blind girls all went out to play in one yard, and the little blind boys in the other.

“Goin’ out to take their air,” said Katie.  Then she and Dotty followed the girls in respectful silence.