Jack, the Fire Dog

by Lily F. Wesselhoeft

She could tell beautiful stories, too, of the time when she was a little girl and lived on a big farm. Sam never wearied of hearing about the calves and sheep and the clumsy oxen, who are so intelligent, although their minds work so slowly. Billy’s mother, too, knew how to draw pictures of all the animals she told them about; and although Billy couldn’t see them, Sam could, and it made Billy very happy to know that his mother could do something to give pleasure to the little friend who had done so much for him.

“If I only could see, I think I could draw things,” Billy said one day, “because I know just how they ought to go.”

“Do you think you could draw Jack?” asked Sam.

“I think I could,” replied Billy, “because my hands know how he looks.”

“Take a pencil and see how good a picture you can make,” said his mother.

So Billy made a picture of the Fire-Dog, as he thought he looked, and, considering that he was blind and had never been taught to use a pencil, he did very well.

“It looks just like Jack, all but the spots,” said Sam, “but of course you couldn’t make them because you couldn’t see them. I’ll paint them in for you.”

After this, Billy began to make pictures of the things he could pass his hands over, and it helped many an hour to pass pleasantly.

Soon came a time when the oculist whom Mr. Ledwell had consulted about Billy’s eyes decided that the boy’s health was now sufficiently established to make it safe to operate. So Billy was put to sleep and the operation performed, but for many days afterwards he had to be kept in a dark room. Without his mother to sit by him and take care of him, this would have been a trying time for Billy; but with her by his side he was perfectly contented to wait patiently for the time to come when he should be like the seeing children.

All this time Sam was not allowed to see the blind boy, and the time seemed very long to him. He had many boy playmates, but not one of them was so dear to him as the little blind boy to whom he had so patiently loaned his eyes. He was persuaded at last to try his new dog-cart, for by this time the snow had disappeared, and his black pony with the star on his forehead had been brought in from the country. There was a new russet harness, too, that became the pony beautifully, and Sam was allowed to drive alone in the park behind the big carriage, for the pony was gentle and Sam a good driver.