“So I sang away till I was as hoarse as a crow, and Johnny drank it all in like water; kept time with his head, stamped when I gave him ‘Marching through Georgia,’ and hurrahed feebly in the chorus of ‘Red, White, and Blue.’  It was lovely to see how he enjoyed it, and I was so glad I had a voice to comfort those poor babies with.  He cried when I had to go, and so touched my heart that I asked all about him, and resolved to get him into the Blind School as the only place where he could be taught and made happy.”

“I thought you were bound there the day I met you, Lizzie; but you looked as solemn as if all your friends had lost their sight,” cried Marion.

“I did feel solemn, for if Johnny could not go there he would be badly off.  Fortunately he was ten, and dear Mrs. Russell helped me, and those good people took him in though they were crowded.  ’We cannot turn one away,’ said kind Mr. Parpatharges.

“So there my boy is, as happy as a king with his little mates, learning all sorts of useful lessons and pretty plays.  He models nicely in clay.  Here is one of his little works.  Could you do as well without eyes?” and Lizzie proudly produced a very one-sided pear with a long straw for a stem.  “I don’t expect he will ever be a sculptor, but I hope he will do something with music he loves it so, and is already piping away on a fife very cleverly.  Whatever his gift may prove, if he lives, he will be taught to be a useful, independent man, not a helpless burden, nor an unhappy creature sitting alone in the dark.  I feel very happy about my lads, and am surprised to find how well I get on with them.  I shall look up some more next year, for I really think I have quite a gift that way, though you wouldn’t expect it, as I have no brothers, and always had a fancy boys were little imps.”

The girls were much amused at Lizzie’s discovery of her own powers, for she was a stately damsel, who never indulged in romps, but lived for her music.  Now it was evident that she had found the key to unlock childish hearts, and was learning to use it, quite unconscious that the sweet voice she valued so highly was much improved by the tender tones singing lullabies gave it.  The fat pear was passed round like refreshments, receiving much praise and no harsh criticism; and when it was safely returned to its proud possessor, Ida began her tale in a lively tone.

“I waited for my chore, and it came tumbling down our basement steps one rainy day in the shape of a large dilapidated umbrella with a pair of small boots below it.  A mild howl made me run to open the door, for I was at lunch in the dining-room, all alone, and rather blue because I couldn’t go over to see Ella.  A very small girl lay with her head in a puddle at the foot of the steps, the boots waving in the air, and the umbrella brooding over her like a draggled green bird.

“‘Are you hurt, child?’ said I.

“‘No, I thank you, ma’am,’ said the mite quite calmly, as she sat up and settled a woman’s shabby black hat on her head.