“They are obliged to,” answered the mole, “and so they have to put up with it; but a mole lives in the dark, and therefore it does not require to see.”
“But what are eyes for, if they are not to see with?” Tommy Smith asked. He felt sure it was a sensible question, and it seemed to him that the mole was talking nonsense.
“They are for not getting in the way when you make tunnels in the ground,” said the mole. “Mine never get in the way, so I know that they are the best eyes that anyone can have.”
This was quite a new idea to Tommy Smith, and he tried to think what it would be like to live in the ground, and to have eyes that you couldn’t see with, and that didn’t get in the way. At last he said, “It seems to me, Mrs. Mole, that it would be much better if you had not any eyes at all.”
“That is a strange idea, to be sure!” said the mole. “Not have eyes, indeed! That would be a fine thing.”
“But if you can’t see with them,” said Tommy Smith.
“What of that?” said the mole; “we have them, and so we are proud of them. It is a saying in our family that a mole may be blind, but he has eyes for all that.”
“Poor little mole,” said Tommy Smith, for though the animal seemed to be quite happy itself, he couldn’t help feeling very sorry for it. “But are you quite blind?”
“If I am not quite, I am very nearly,” the mole answered, “and I am thankful for that. I just know when it is light and when it isn’t, which is all a mole requires to know.”
“But can’t you see me?” Tommy Smith asked.