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LITTLE JAKEY.

BY MRS. S.H.  DEKROYFT.

I.

At the time of the opening of this story, there were in the rear of the New York Institution for the Blind, two small but pleasant parks, full of trees and winding walks, where the birds sang, and blind boys and girls ran and played.  The little gate between the two parks was usually left open during school hours, and one bright June morning, while the sun was drinking up the dews from the leaves and the flowers, I chanced to be walking there, and I heard the little gate opening and shutting, opening and shutting; rattle went the chain, then bang went the gate, until suddenly, as I was passing it, a little voice saluted me, so sweet and musical and up so high, that for the moment I almost fancied one of the birds had stopped his song to speak with me.

“I know you.  I knows ven you come.  Sometimes you tell stories to ze girls, and I hear you ven I bees dis side.”

Going up and putting my hand on the little speaker’s head, I said,—­

“Pray, what little girl is this here, with these long pretty curls, swinging on the gate?”

“I bees not a girl,—­I bees a boy, I be.”

Then passing my hand down over a little coat covered with buttons, I said,—­

“Surely, so you are a little boy; but what is your name?”

“My name bees Little Jakey; dot is my name.”

“Little Jakey!  Indeed! and pray, when did you come here?”

Quick as thought his little foot struck out against the post again, and the gate went flying to and fro, as before; then coming to a sudden halt, he said,—­

“Vell, I tink I tell you.  I bees here von Sunday and von Sunday and von Sunday; so long I bees here.”

“How old are you, Jakey?”

“I bees seving; dot is my old,—­dot is how old I bees.”

“And can you not see?”

“No, I not see.  Ven Gott make my eyes, my moder say he not put ze light in zem.”

“And are you going to school here, Jakey?”

“Yes, some ze time I go in ze school, and I read ze letters mit my fing-er.  Von letter vot live on ze top ze line, I know him, ven I put my fing-er on him; hees name bees A; and von oder letter, I know him, ven I put my fing-er on him,—­round like ze hoop; hees name bees O.”

“Who teaches you the letters, Little Jakey?”

“Cassie, ce teach me, but all ze time ce laugh, ven I say ze vords; so Miss Setland sen her avay, and now Libbie, ce teach me.  But not much I go in ze school.  I come down here mit ze birds in ze trees.  Up to ze house ze birds not go.  Eddy and Villy, and all ze boys, ven zey play, make big noise, and zey scare ze birds.  But down here zey not scare, and all ze time zey sing.”

“You love the birds, Jakey?”