The Unknown Wrestler Part 13

"Was he?" Douglas asked in surprise. "At what college?"

"Pa.s.sdale; and it was such a lovely place. My dear mother died when we were there. I was only a little girl when we left, but I remember it well. Nell was at college when father became blind, and she felt so badly about coming away before she could graduate."

"And have you lived here ever since?"

"Oh, yes. There is no other place for us to go."

"Do you like it?"

"Sure. I am happy wherever daddy and Nell are. We have such great times together. But here we are right at the house. It wasn't far, was it?"

Douglas did not reply for he was held spell-bound by the beautiful and interesting scene before him. In a comfortable arm-chair sat the blind musician listening intently to what his daughter was reading. She was seated upon the ground by his side, with a book lying in her lap. It was only for an instant, however, that Douglas was privileged to watch her un.o.bserved, but it was sufficient for him to note the rare charm of her face and form.

"Oh, daddy! Nell!" the girl cried as she rushed forward. "You can't guess who is here?"

At these words the fair reader lifted her head and her eyes rested upon the stranger.

"It's the man who played for us in the city," the girl explained.

"Isn't it wonderful that I have found him!"

An expression of pleasure swept over the young woman's face, as she at once rose to her feet and held out her hand.

"Any one who has befriended my father and sister is welcome here," she quietly remarked. "Father," and she turned partly around, "this is the man you have told us so much about. Nan has brought him to see you."

"I am delighted to meet you, sir," the old man replied, as he took Douglas' hand. "I have wanted to thank you ever since that night you helped us in the city. Get Mr.----"

"Handyman," Douglas a.s.sisted.

"Handyman, that's a good name. Nan, get him a chair and make him comfortable."

"I am sorry that I have interrupted the reading, sir," Douglas apologised. "It was your daughter who brought me here. I do not need a chair, as I prefer to sit upon the ground."

"I am so pleased that you have come," the old man replied. "You must have supper with us. We have it out here on the gra.s.s when the afternoon is fine and warm. Come, Nell, get it ready."

"Please do not go to any trouble on my account," Douglas protested.

"It is no trouble," Nell a.s.sured him. "It is father's supper time, anyway. He always like to have it early, especially on Sunday. You two can have a nice chat together. Come, Nan, I want you."

As Douglas looked around he was surprised to find what a beautiful spot it really was. The house nestled in the midst of fine elm and maple trees. Surrounding the house was a garden, consisting of vegetables and berries of several kinds. Part of the land was in gra.s.s, not yet cut. About the place was a strong page wire fence which extended almost to the river.

"You have a beautiful place here, sir," Douglas remarked.

"Indeed it is. A happy home and a perfect day; what more could one desire? 'The Lord hath done great things for us already, whereof we rejoice'."

Douglas gave a slight start of surprise as the old man slowly uttered these words. Surely, if he were an unbeliever he would not quote Scripture in such a reverent manner.

"It is good that you can view it that way, sir. Few people ever think of being thankful for what they receive."

"That is where they make a sad mistake. I have learned through long years that Ezra of old was right when he told the people to turn from weeping and to 'drink the sweet.' Before this blindness came upon me I was something like Saul of Tarsus, always kicking against the p.r.i.c.ks, or in other words, the dictates of conscience! 'Before I was afflicted, I went astray,' as the psalmist sang. But I have viewed things in a different light since then, and though the Father's hand has been heavy upon me, it was for my good, and for which I am most thankful. The great Master's warning to Simon is most applicable to me. 'When thou wast young,' He said, 'thou girdest thyself, and walkest whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.'"

"You are well versed in Scripture, I see," Douglas remarked as the old man paused.

"And why not? It is the one Book from which I have drawn the greatest inspiration. It, and the works of the immortal bard of Avon are the books I recommended above all others to the students of my cla.s.s. Not only for the great uplifting influence, but for the wonderful language, I advised them to drink deeply of those profound wells of purest English."

"What did you teach at college?" Douglas enquired.

"English Literature, as you can easily guess from my remarks. I was at Pa.s.sdale for over fifteen years."

"You must miss such work now."

"Not at all. I have other interests to occupy my time, and my present leisure affords me the opportunity of carrying out a work which has long been in my mind."

"And what is that?"

"It is the re-writing and revising of my notes on the plays of Shakespeare. It is well advanced now, and a noted publisher, a special friend of mine, will publish it as soon as it is completed."

"You must have found your blindness a great handicap, sir."

"You and others might think so," and the old man smiled. "But there is an ancient proverb which tells us that when G.o.d closes a door he always opens a window. It was so with sightless Milton, and though I do not cla.s.s myself with him, nevertheless, it has been true in my case. It was Emerson who gave us that wonderful essay on Compensation, and he knew whereof he wrote."

"But how have you managed to prepare this work of yours?" Douglas questioned. "You surely must have had some a.s.sistance."

"Nell has been my guardian angel ever since my blindness. She does all my writing, reads the plays and my notes to refresh my memory. She was reading King Lear this afternoon, and I was much stirred by the sad trials of the poor old king. I mentally compared my lot with his and found that the advantage is mine. He had no home, two ungrateful daughters, and, as far as I can learn, no 'shadow of a rock in a weary land.' I have a comfortable dwelling, small though it is, two good and loving daughters, a work which gives me great pleasure, and the hope of a sure abiding place not made with hands. What more could a man desire?"

"You are indeed to be congratulated," Douglas replied. "And much pleasure lies ahead of you when your book is published. You will have the satisfaction of knowing that it will be of great interest and a.s.sistance to many. I, for one, shall look forward to reading it."

"Will you really?" and the old man's face beamed with pleasure. "But perhaps you would like to see it in ma.n.u.script? I have not shown it to any one outside my own household. You are the first I have talked to in this way about my work. Nell! Nan!" he called.

"What is it, father?" Nell asked, as she at that instant appeared carrying a large tray in her hands.

"Bring the work, Nell. I want to show it to Mr. Handyman."

"Suppose you wait until after supper, father," his daughter suggested.

"Everything is all ready, and when we are through, you can show it to Mr. Handyman."

"But I need it now."

"Very well, then," and Nell gave the order to Nan.

It took but a few minutes to spread the white cloth upon the gra.s.s and arrange the dishes.

"I am afraid this is a very humble supper," Nell apologised, as she sat down upon the ground and began to pour the tea.

"Surely you do not call this humble!" Douglas replied. "It has been a long time since I have seen such bread and cake. And what delicious strawberries!"

"They are Nell's," the professor proudly explained. "She is the gardener here."

"What about Nan, father? You must give her some credit."