Blind -- Fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Love stories; Marriage -- Fiction; Mental illness -- Fiction
"That's my mamma's chair, big man, mamma gone after cake for
Nina!"
The stranger started, and his face flushed with some strong
emotion, while his hand rested caressingly upon the flowing curls
of the beautiful three-years-old girl, as he asked,
"Who Is mamma, darling? What is her name, I mean?"
"I can tell that a heap better'n Kina," chimed in a boy of five,
who was sitting just across the aisle, and joining the little
girl, he continued, 'My mother is Edith, so Aunt Grace calls her,
but father says Miggie most all the time.
The stranger sank into the seat, dizzy and faint with the mighty
shock, for he knew now that Edith's children were standing them
before him--that frank, fearless boy, and that sweet little girl,
who, not caring to be outdone by her brother, said, in a half
exultant way, as if it were something of which she were very
proud,
"I've got an Uncle 'Ichard, I have, and he's tomin' home bime by."
"And going to bring me lots of things," interrupted the boy again,
"Marie said so."
At this point a tall, slender Frenchman, who had entered behind
the man with the green shade, glided from the car, glancing
backward just in time to see that his master had coaxed both
children into his lap, the girl coming shyly, while the boy sprang
forward with that wide-awake fearlessness which characterized all
his movements. He was a noble-looking little fellow, and the
stranger hugged him fondly as he kissed the full red lips so like
to other lips kissed long years ago.
"What makes you wear this funny thing?" asked the child, peering
up under the shade.
"Because my eyes are weak," was the reply, "People around your
home call me blind."
"Uncle 'Ichard is blind," lisped the little girl, while the boy
rejoined, "but the bestest man that ever lived. Why, he's betterer
than father, I guess, for I asked ma wan't he, and pa told me
yes."
"Hush-sh, child," returned the stranger, fearing lest they might
attract too much attention.
Then removing the shade, his eyes rested long and wistfully upon
the little boy and girl as he said,
"I am your Uncle Richard."
"True as you live and breathe are you Uncle Dick," the boy almost
screamed, winding his chubby arms around the stranger's neck,
while Nina standing upon her feet chirped out her joy as she
patted the bearded cheek, and called him "Uncle 'Ick."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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