MRS. CHISHOLM'S WAY by Anon

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Nov 7, 1906

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 32, No. 43.

MRS. CHISHOLM'S WAY.

By Anon

"ELSIE," said Laura Canfield, as the girls waited on the threshold of the Chisholm home, "if you'd told me we were going to see a blind person I should have begged off. Blindness breaks my heart. That's one reason I've run away for this visit to you."

"You mean on account of your Aunt Mercie?"

"Yes. It's terrible, Elsie. We can't express pleasure in a thing we see without the unhappy feeling that she can't see it, too. We're getting so that when there's a beautiful sunset or a fine illustration, or anything pretty, we just point at it silently, so she won't know the difference."

"Is she going to live with you after this, Laura?"

"O, yes! She's father's only sister, you know, and she hasn't another soul belonging to her except an adopted daughter, who doesn't know any more than to send her a water-color landscape for a Christmas present. Think of that—to a blind woman!"

"Wasn't it heartless—or at least thoughtless?"

"Y-yes. It wouldn't be if you sent it to Mr. Chisholm, tho. But then Mrs. Chisholm has a way——."

The door opened and Mrs. Chisholm greeted them brightly.

"Just see, Morton!" she cried, as she led the way into the sitting-room. "It's Elsie Brooke and her friend, Miss Canfield, and they've brought us this great bunch of red partridgeberries, all nestled in among glossy dark-green leaves. Aren't they lovely?"

Laura thought she had never seen a smile so beautiful as the one on the face of the courtly man who rose to meet them.

"It's a real taste of the woods, isn't it?" he said, as his fingers caressed the leaves and berries. "Where shall we put them, Mary?" and he seemed to look at his wife through the dark glasses that shaded his eyes.

"Right here in the window, where we had the yellow blossoms yesterday."

"O, yes! With the green of the elm tree outside for a background."

"And the sunlight filtering through in patches," she prompted.

"To be sure! Mrs. Chisholm never leaves out the sunlight," he added, turning that beautiful smile to the girls again; and Laura found herself doubting that this could be the Mr. Chisholm who had been blind for twenty years.

A minute later he handed her the photograph of his one grandchild.

"Isn't that a fine boy for six months?" he asked, proudly. "See the shape of that head, and those little chubby arms—pretty, aren't they? The picture came this morning, and we were as excited as two children. We could hardly wait to get it open."

Laura almost gasped. He was totally blind; Elsie had said so. And yet, listen! He was talking about the squirrels in his yard now.

"They're as tame as kittens," he declared. "You ought to have seen them this morning! They'd let Mrs. Chisholm and me get close to them, and then they'd run a little way ahead and look back at us as saucy as you please. They flirted with us."

"Well," put in Elsie Brooke, "I can't blame them a bit if Mrs. Chisholm had on the pretty blue gown she is now wearing. She looks so lovely I can't help speaking of it."

Mr. Chisholm reached for the hand of the little woman at his side. "She always looks beautiful to me," he said tenderly. "And what is more, my dears, the whole world looks beautiful to me through her eyes.—Anon."