Every one was busy over the fair and the concert; and fingers flew,
tongues chattered, feet trotted, and hearts beat fast with hope and fear
as the time drew near, for all were eager to secure a home for the poor
children still waiting in darkness. It was a charity which appealed to
all hearts when it was known; but in this busy world of ours, people
have so many cares of their own that they are apt to forget the wants of
others unless something brings these needs very clearly before their
eyes. Much money was needed, and many ways had been tried to add to the
growing fund, that all might be well done.
"We wish to interest children in this charity for children, so that they
may gladly give a part of their abundance to these poor little souls who
have nothing. I think Lizzie will sing some of the pennies out of their
pockets, which would otherwise go for bonbons. Let us try; so make her
neat and pretty, and we ’ll have a special song for her."
Mr. Constantine said this; and Miss Grace carried out his wish so well
that when the time came, the little prima donna did her part better even
than they had hoped.
The sun shone splendidly on the opening day of the fair, and cars and
carriages came rolling out from the city, full of friendly people with
plump purses and the sympathetic interest we all take in such things
when we take time to see, admire, and reproach ourselves that we do so
little for them.
There were many children; and when they had bought the pretty handiwork
of the blind needle-women, eaten cake and ices, wondered at the strange
maps and books, twirled the big globe in the hall, and tried to
understand how so many blind people could be so busy and so happy, they
all were seated at last to hear the music, full of expectation, for "the
pretty little girl was going to sing."
It was a charming concert, and every one enjoyed it, though many eyes
grew dim as they wandered from the tall youths blowing the horns so
sweetly to the small ones chirping away like so many sparrows, for the
blind faces made the sight pathetic, and such music touched the hearts
as no other music can.
"Now she’s coming!" whispered the eager children, as a little girl
climbed up the steps and stood before them, waiting to begin.
A slender little creature in a blue gown, with sunshine falling on her
pretty hair, a pleading look in the soft eyes that had no sign of
blindness but their steadfastness, and a smile on the lips that trembled
at first, for Lizzie’s heart beat fast, and only the thought, "I ’m
helping the poor little ones," gave her courage for her task.
But when the flutes and violins began to play like a whispering wind,
she forgot the crowd before her, and lifting up her face, sang in clear
sweet tones.
THE BLIND LARK’S SONG.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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