The Blinded Lady touched my forehead.
She smoothed my nose,--my cheeks,--my chin.
"U-m-mmm," she said. "And 'Ruthy' you say is what you call her?"
My Father twinkled his eyes.
"We have to call her something!" he said politely.
"And is this bump on the forehead a natural one?" said the Blinded Lady.
"Or an accidental one?"
"Both!" said my Father. "That is, it's pre-em-i-nently natural for our
daughter Ruthy to have an accidental bump on her forehead."
"And there are, I infer," said the Blinded Lady, "one or two freckles on
either side of the nose?"
"Your estimate," said my Father, "is conservative."
"And the hair?" said the Blinded Lady. "It hasn't exactly the texture of
gold."
"'Penny-colored' we call it!" said my Mother.
"And not exactly a _new_ penny at that, is it?" said the Blinded Lady.
"N--o," said my Mother. "But rather jolly all the same like a penny
that's just bought two sticks of candy instead of one!"
"And the nose turns up a little?" said the Blinded Lady.
"Well maybe just a--trifle," admitted my Mother.
The Blinded Lady stroked my face all over again. "U-m-m-m," she said.
"Well at least it's something to be thankful for that everything is
perfectly normal!" She put her hands on my shoulders. She shook me a
little. "Never, _never_, Ruthie," she said, "be so foolish as to
complain because you're not pretty!"
"No'm!" I promised.
"Put all the Beauty you can _inside_ your head!" said the Blinded Lady.
"Yes'm!" I promised. "And I've just thought of another one that I know!
It's about
You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be----"
"_Foolish!_" said the Blinded Lady. "It wasn't sounds I was thinking of
this time, but _sights_!" She pushed me away. She sighed and sighed. It
puffed her all out. "O--h," she sighed. "O--h! Three pairs of Young Eyes
and all the World waiting to be looked at!"
She rocked her chair. She rocked it very slowly. It was like a little
pain.
"I never saw _anything_ after I was seventeen!" she said. "And God
himself knows that I hadn't seen anywheres near enough before that! Just
the little grass road to the village now and then on a Saturday
afternoon to buy the rice and the meat and the matches and the soap!
Just the wood-lot beyond the hill-side where the Arbutus always
blossomed so early! Just old Neighbor Nora's new patch-work quilt!--Just
a young man's face that looked in once at the window to ask where the
trout brook was! But even these pictures," said the Blinded Lady,
"They're fading! Fading! Sometimes I can't remember at all whether old
Nora's quilt was patterned in diamond shapes or squares. Sometimes I'm
not so powerful sure whether the young man's eye were blue or brown!
After all, it's more'n fifty years ago. It's new pictures that I need
now," she said. "New pictures!"
She took a peppermint from a box. She didn't pass 'em. She rocked her
chair. And rocked. And rocked. She smiled a little. It wasn't a real
smile. It was just a smile to save her dress. It was just a little
gutter to catch her tears.
"Oh dear me--Oh dear me--Oh dear me!" said my Mother.
"Stop your babbling!" said the Blinded Lady. She sniffed. And sniffed.
"But I'll tell you what I'll do," she said. "These children can come
back here next Saturday afternoon and----."
"Why there's no reason in the world," said my Mother, "why they
shouldn't come every day!"
The Blinded Lady stopped rocking. She almost screamed.
"Every day?" she said. "Mercy no! Their feet are muddy! And besides it's
tiresome! But they can come next Saturday I tell you! And I'll give you
a prize! Yes, I'll give two prizes--for the two best new pictures that
they bring me to think about! And the first prize shall be a Peacock
Feather Fan!" said the Blinded Lady. "And the second prize shall be a
Choice of Cats!"
"A Choice of Cats?" gasped my Father.
The Blinded Lady thumped her cane. She thumped it pretty hard. It made
you glad your toes weren't under it.
"Now mind you, Children!" she said.
"It's got to be a _new_ picture! It's got to be something you've seen
yourself! The most _beautifulest_! The most _darlingest_ thing that
you've ever seen! Go out in the field I say! Go out in the woods! Go up
on the mountain top! And _look around_! Nobody I tell you can ever make
another person see anything that he hasn't seen himself! Now be gone!"
said the Blinded Lady. "I'm all tuckered out!"
"Why I'm sure," said my Father, "we never would have come at all if we
hadn't supposed that----."
The Blinded Lady shook her cane right at my Father.
"Don't be stuffy!" she said. "But get out!"
We got out.
Old Mary who washed and ironed and cooked for the Blinded Lady showed us
the shortest way out. The shortest way out was through the wood-shed.
There were twenty-seven little white bowls of milk on the wood-shed
floor. There was a cat at each bowl. It sounded lappy! Some of the cats
were black. Some of the cats were gray. Some of the cats were white.
There was an old tortoise-shell cat. He had a crumpled ear. He had a
great scar across his nose. He had a broken leg that had mended crooked.
_Most_ of the cats were tortoise-shell _and_ black _and_ gray _and_
white! It looked pretty! It looked something the way a rainbow would
look if it was fur! And splashed with milk instead of water!
"How many quarts does it take?" said my Mother.
"_Quarts?_" said Old Mary. She sniffed. "_Quarts?_ It takes a whole
Jersey cow!"
The Blinded Lady called Rosalee to come back. I went with her. I held
her hand very hard for fear we would be frightened.
There was a White Kitten in the Blinded Lady's Lap. It was a white
Angora. It wasn't any bigger than a baby rabbit. It had a blue ribbon on
its neck. It looked very pure. Its face said "Ruthy, I'd like very much
to be your kitten!"
But the Blinded Lady's face didn't know I was there at all.
"Young Lassie," said the Blinded Lady. "What is the color of your
Derry's eyes?"
"Why--why--black!" said Rosalee.
"U-m-mmm," said the Blinded Lady. "Black?" She began to munch a
peppermint. "U-m-m-m," she said. She jerked her head. Her nose looked
pretty sharp. "That's right, Young Lassie!" she cried. "Love _early_!
Never mind what the old folks say! Sometimes there isn't any late! Love
all you can! Love----!" She stopped suddenly. She sank back in her
skirts again. And rocked! Her nose didn't look sharp any more. Her voice
was all whispers. "Lassie," she whispered, "when you choose your Peacock
Feather Fan--choose the one on the top shelf! It's the best one! It's
sandal wood! It's----"
My boots made a creak.
The Blinded Lady gave an awful jump!
"There's someone else in this room besides the Young Lassie!" she cried.