The blind boy was already five years old. Slender and frail he was, it is
true, but still he could walk and even run with ease and freedom around
the house. No stranger on seeing him walk with such entire confidence
from room to room, always turning at the right place and finding what
he sought, would for one moment have suspected that the boy was blind;
he would simply have been taken for a child intensely in earnest, ever
with a far-away look in his eyes. But in the yard he moved with less
confidence, feeling his way by the aid of his cane. If it so chanced that
he had no cane in his hand, he chose rather to creep upon the ground,
passing his hands rapidly over every object that came in his way.