Part 4 (1/2)
”I wish I could eat something,” said Dotty, with a solemn face; ”but I'm too sick.”
”So'm I,” groaned Flyaway. ”I couldn't eat noffin'--'cept cake.”
”If you are in such a condition as that,” said the captain, ”it is certainly high time we landed. And here comes a pilot boat with a signal flying. We will take the pilot on board,” added she; drawing in another little girl. ”And look! here we are now in Liverpool.”
”We must go to the Adelphi,” said Octavia; ”that is where Rollo went, and found his father, and mother, and Thannie. But the kitten didn't ever get there--did it, Miss Percival?”
The voyage being ended, and with it the fearful seasickness, the children went to swinging, with their teacher to push them.
”Miss Percival,” said aunt Maria, shaking hands with that excellent young lady, ”I wish you joy of your n.o.ble employment. It is a blessed thing to be able to give so much pleasure to these dear little children.”
”So it seems to me,” replied Miss Percival. ”They are always grateful, too, for every little kindness.”
”They look very good and obedient,” said Mrs. Clifford, in a low voice.
”So they are. Sometimes I think they are better than children who have eyes; perhaps because they cannot see to get into so much mischief,”
added Miss Percival, pinching Emily's cheek.
”Aunt 'Ria,” said Dotty, in raptures, ”_don't_ they have good times here?”
”Yelly good times,” said little Flyaway, clutching at her mother's dress.
”Mamma, I wish _I_ was blind-eyed, too.”
”You, my darling baby! Mother hopes that will never be. But if you cannot be blind-eyed yourself, perhaps you may make some of these little ones happy. Is there anything you would like to give away?”
Flyaway winked slowly, trying to think what she had at home that she no longer wished to keep.
”Yes, mamma,” said she at last, with a smile of satisfaction, ”I've got a old hat.”
”O, fie, Katie! I dare say you would be very glad to part with that, for I remember you cried the other day when I asked you to wear it. Your old hat would not be a pretty present.”
”Then I can't fink of noffin' else,” said Katie, shaking her head; at the same time having a guilty recollection of several beautiful toys, and ”'most a hunnerd bushels of canny;” that is to say, a small box of confectionery her uncle Edward had given her.
Mrs. Clifford had observed of late that her little daughter was not as generous as she could wish. Both Katie and Dotty were peculiarly liable to become selfish, as they were much petted at home, and had no younger brothers or sisters with whom to share their treasures. Mrs. Clifford did not insist upon Katie's making any sacrifice. The little one did not pity the blind children at all. They seemed so happy that she almost envied them. So did Miss Dimple. It was not, after all, very grievous to be blind, she thought, if one could live at this Inst.i.tute and have such nice plays.
”Aunt 'Ria thinks I ought to give them something, I s'pose. When I get home I mean to ask mamma and grandma to dress a beautiful doll, and I'll send it to Emily. She'll keep it to remember me by; and it won't cost any of _my_ money if papa buys the head.”
”Good by, Emily,” said she, as she parted from her. ”I hope there won't any more bad things happen to you.”
”But I s'pose there will,” replied Emily, cheerfully.
Mr. Parlin and Horace were waiting in the hall, and the latter was impatiently watching the tall clock. They had been in the greenhouse, looking at the flowers, and in the shop, where the blind boys learn to make brooms and brushes.
”Well, ladies, are you ready to go?” asked Mr. Parlin, taking Flyaway by the hand.
”Yes, we ladies is ready,” replied she. So this was the end of their visit at the Inst.i.tute.
After they had gone away, the little blind girls said to one another,--