A RASH JUDGMENT

New Zealand Tablet, 1 October 1908, Page 37

A RASH JUDGMENT

I am a lonely fellow, with nothing to do but roam about the streets and criticise my neighbors. By neighbors I mean any and all of those persons whom I may meet in a day's walk. As to real neighbors, no doubt I have some ; but as I am by nature retiring, and by force of circumstances a newcomer in N., I know very little about them. The other morning I started out for my usual walk. Just ahead of me clattered a young lady very lichly and tastefully attired. I say ' clattered,' for I do not know how better to describe the noise she made with her high heels on the resounding pavement. She cairied her head high, and on top of it was perched an expensive affair— l don't know what to call it decorated with feathers. I said to myself : 'If that creature arrays herself so expensively in the morning, when, from the quickness of her movements, she is going out probably for a few moments on some necessary errand, how will she be dressed for the afternoon promenade, the evening dinner, the opera, the theatre, or some grand ball? Of what use is she in the world, trotting along on her high heels, with her head in the air, and her thoughts on the new gown she is going to have fitted at the dressmaker's?' While thus reflecting, I felt my arm jostled rudely, and turned to remonstrate. 'Here! What do you mean?' I asked testily; but the next instant I regretted my tone, for saw the man was blind. 'I beg your pardon, my friend!' said I. 'Not at all, sir,' was the rejoinder. 'I am out of my own neighborhood and not familiar with the streets here.' We were standing on a corner; the blind man prodding the pavement with his stick, and turning his sightless eyes about uneasily, as though uncertain what to do. The young lady had paused also to open her parasol, a pretty thing, but somewhat refractory. She turned at the old man's speech, regarding him with a quick glance from bright blue eyes. 'Curiosity!' I thought. 'AH women are dowered with if from the highest to the lowest.' She passed on, and 1 stood for a moment irresolute, wondering whether it might not be a kindness, nay— almost duty— to ask the afflicted man where he lived and set him on his way But I resisted the impulse; I was not responsible for him; he should have known better than to have ventured alone into I strange neighborhood; those who had charge of him should not have permitted it. Besides, there were the police. Twirling my cane, I proceeded on my way. * In front of me the young woman had- just reached the opposite curb Sud" denly she turned about, glanced -at the corner where the blind' man was still stranded, and retraced her steps. ' Probably she has forgotten some gewgaw or other,' thought I, and continued

on my way. But -the • blind man was on my conscience, and. after I had gone a few steps" farther, I turned once more to see what had become of him. To my surprise,- the young woman was' talking to him. They came toward me, she with a neatly-gloved hand on his arm. He could not see me, she did not observe me. When they had passed I followed somewhat closely ; for I began to feel interested. Could there possibly be any connection between that shabby old man and the handsomely attired young lady, habitue of a world to him evidently unknown ? Hardly ; and yet, I admit that, though not a woman, I was quite curious, and raflicr pleased to learn from the tone of her voice that her companion was somewhat deaf as well as blind. Thereby I was' enabled to hear their conversation without attracting their observation. ' You tell me you are' lost?' she was saying in a remarkably sweet voice. ' Where do you live, sir?' ' In X street, miss.' 'That is rather distant,' she observed, after reflection. ~ ' How do you come to be so far out of your way?' • 'I do not know. • I was to meet my daughter. She had gone to take back some sewing— she is a seamstress— and I missed her. I had come out for a walk, the day is so fine.' ' Very well. I will take you homje.' ' It will not inconvenience you, miss?' ' Not at all. I had planned to do some shopping, but it does not matter.' ' You are very kind, miss.' ' Not at all; it is a pleasure. You live with your daughter?' ' Yes ; she is a widow. There are two children. I make fruit baskets, and they help. She is an excellent seamstress, and has plenty of work.' ' That is good. And you get on well?' ' Very well.' ' And the children? Do they go to school?' - ' Oh, regularly !' ' I should like to know them. Tt is a blessing for you to be surrounded with children; you have more reason to be thankful than many who are not blind.' ' Oh, yes, miss ! You are right. There is often real happiness for the blind.' I fell back, fearing to be detected in my espionage. I heard no more, but could see .that the talk went pleasantly on. At last they paused in front of a large building. A woman and two little boys were standing in the doorway. ' Here he is ! ' they cried, as the pair approached. I lingered on the sidewalk, pretending to pull the point of my cane from the crack between two stones. There were cheerful words and some laughter, and then the young, fashionably dressed good Samaritan hurried away, glancing at her watch as she went. She did not cast her eyes toward me, but I said in an undertone : ' God bless her, and God forgive my rash judgment of her ! ' She was in a hurry, and she went out of her way— she whom, in the uncharitableness of my heart, I had called a frivolous creature without sense or feeling— to conduct a poor, strayed blind man to his home; to console him with sweet, kind words ; to fill his thoughts with hope and contentment ; while I who flatter myself on being a philosopher, not to say a Christian, without anything in the world to do but amuse myself, on whom the time often hangs heavily, had not the human sympathy, the generosity of soul; to offer the service which I could so readily have performed. I had no desire to walk any longer that morning; my life' and its emptiness looked very poor to me. I resolved never again to judge by appearances, and went slowly homeward to ponder on the parable of the mote and the beam.— Aye Maria