The second winter of the boy’s life was drawing to a close. The snow
outside had begun to thaw, and the streamlets to sing their spring songs.
At the same time the boy’s health changed for the better. He had been
rather delicate during the winter, and had in consequence been kept in
the house, and never permitted to breathe the outdoor air. The double
windows were now removed, and spring with all the vigor of new life burst
into the rooms. The cheerful sun shone in at the glittering windows;
the leafless branches of the beech-trees swayed to and fro; the distant
fields were black, save for the white patches of melting snow still lying
here and there, and the spots where the young grass had begun to look
green. On every side the stimulating influence of the spring imparted new
vigor and life. One seemed to breathe more freely.
To the blind boy within the room spring manifested its presence only
by the swiftness of its sounds. He could hear the rushing of the floods
running a race, as it were, leaping over the stones, and sinking
deep into the moistened soil; the faint resonance of the whispering
birch-trees as their tossing branches beat against the windows, and the
rapid dripping of the icicles that hung from the roof, which since the
sun had set them free from the chill embrace of the night frost were
hurrying away, their ringing footsteps followed by a thousand echoes. All
these sounds made their way into the room like a storm of pebble-stones
beating a hurried tattoo upon the ground. Above all these harmonies of
Nature could be heard from time to time the calls of the storks echoing
softly from the distant heights, and dying gradually away as if melting
in air.
This new birth of Nature was reflected upon the boy’s face in the form
of distress and perplexity. He would knit his brows, listen for a while,
then suddenly, as though alarmed by the mysterious hurrying of the
sounds, he would stretch forth his arms, seeking his mother, and rushing
to her would nestle in her bosom.
“What can be the matter with him?” the mother cried, questioning herself
and others.
Uncle Maxim carefully scanning the boy’s face, could in no way explain
his strange alarm.
“I suppose he cannot understand,” suggested the mother, thus construing
the expression of mute surprise and distressed inquiry upon her son’s
face.
The child indeed was frightened and uneasy. At first he had seemed to
catch eagerly at the unaccustomed sounds, but soon he showed his surprise
that the noises already familiar to his ear were all at once hushed and
gone.