“Two years now.”
“That was before I came to the town. And how did you lose your light?”
“I had a bad fever for many months, and afterwards my eyes never got well; then they grew worse and worse, till the darkness fell. There is a good man who was once my pupil and who is rich now, and he took me to the best oculists; but they said they could do nothing.”
Aleko passed his fingers through his hair and hesitated; but his curiosity got the better of him.
“Tell me, master, why do you buy a newspaper if you cannot see to read it?”
“It is read to me.”
“Your children read it to you?” queried the boy.
“No, I have no children. There is a young man,—a student, who lives in the next house,—and every day at noon I give him ten lepta to read the whole newspaper to me. One must know the news and what the outside world is doing.” Then half to himself he added, “Though the eyes be blind the mind must see.”
But Aleko frowned.
“What! Pay lepta to have the news read to you! That is a sin! Better keep the good money for bread. In our village, he who can read reads aloud, and the others listen, but no one pays.”