The Little Blind Boy

ONCE there was a good little boy in Scotland.

about eight years old, who took the small pox;

and when he grew better, it was found it had 

shut up both his eyes, so that he could see 

nothing. He had been such a gentle, good boy, 

that all the family loved him. and led him about,

 and were very kind to him. He had a little sister

 Annie, twelve years old, who used to find 

amusements for him,  and when it came warm

 weather, she would take him to walk in the 


One day they took a long walk, and sat down

at the foot of a great tree. “Annie," said James.

"what a pleasant day this is. The air feels so

soft and so warm to my face. I hear the brook

racing over the smooth stones, and the sheep

 and lambs bleat. How I wish I could see them


Hark! there is a thrush singing over our heads.

O, how beautiful it used to be to sit down here.

and look to the far away hills, and the clear

blue sky, and see the mill yonder, and the pretty

ducks in the pond. Ah! Annie, I think I

shall never see these things again.

Then the little boy thought how dismal it would

be to be always blind and dark, and feel so 

helpless and sad; and he began to cry...”Don't

 cry, Jamie," said his dear sister; " may be you'll

 see yet. There was Daniel Scott, you know, had

 the small pox, and was blind for weeks, but he 

got well, and now he sees as well as anybody.

 Besides, you know," said she, "God will do right

 about it, as dear mother says; and if he leaves

 you to be blind, he will make you happy some

 other way. Besides we will do what we can for

 you; and I will read to you, and it will not be so

 bad." But poor James kept thinking of his

 misfortune,and sat down with his head bent

 upon his hands, with his elbows on his knees,

 and kept on crying.

The flood of tears pressed their way between his

eyelids, which had stuck together, and when he

lifted up his head he cried out, "Oh! Annie, I can

see! There's the brook, and the mill, and the

sheep! Oh! how glad I am!" Annie was as joyful

as he, and hurried him to return home so as to

tell the good news; but James could; hardly 

walk, for he wanted so to look about him, "Oh!" 

said he, "how little do children know of the 

blessing of sight. If they had only lost it a while,

 like me,they would never cease to thank God for


You may think how pleased they all were at

home. At night, when the father prayed in the

family, and came to thank God for restoring dear

little James, he almost wept for joy. James soon

got his sight completely; and when he grew up to

be a man, he never forgot to be grateful to his

heavenly Father that he was not blind.


HOME! O, the blessed sound!

Where is my own bright home!

'Tis not where shadows gather round,

Where clouds and tempests come.

Not where sweet-scented flowers

Bloom in the early day,

And ere the starry evening hours,

Fade, and are gone away.

'Tis not where sorrow reigns,

Where falls the heavy tear,

Not amidst toils and strifes and pains.

Not amidst grief and fear. 

'Tis not where beauty fades,

Where dwells the mourner's woe,

Where darkly fall the cold death shades, 

My home is not below.

'Tis in a glorious land,

Where sweet flowers know no blight,

Where glory crowns the immortal band,

Where there is no more night.

Yes, oh far, far away,

Where all is good and fair,

And sweetly rolls the unclouded day,

My own bright home is there.

Paris, Mi. ___ H. N. S.