Why, that blind man couldn’t do it. Why? because he hain’t got any eyes, that is why.
He don’t know which line to pull on, for he hain’t got no eyes to see which way the danger lays, nor which side on him folks are a layin’ in his track.
He hain’t to blame, that blind man hain’t, nor the horse hain’t to blame, nor the helpless ones he is a tromplin’ over and a stompin’ and a kickin’.
“Who is to blame?” Why, the ones that lifted him onto the horse.
Wall, say some, the blind man wuz lifted onto the horse in the first place to get him out of danger; he wuz jest on the pint of sinkin’ down into the deep mud and quicksand; he wuz lifted onto the horse as a war measure, a way of safety to him out of his danger.
Wall, I sez, that wuz all right; I presume they thought the horse could bear him out safely amongst the pitfalls a layin’ on every side of him, and I dare presume to say they didn’t realize that the man wuz so blind, or that so many wuz goin’ to be trompled on by the heels of the horse.
But now, I say, they have gin it a fair trial, they see it didn’t work; they see that a blind man can’t ride a wild horse over a dangerous road with safety to himself, or the horse, or the helpless ones in his way.
“Wall, what will you do?” you say.
Wall, Maggie spozed the case, and I did; we said, spozin’ the ones that lifted that blind man up onto the horse should take him off on it a spell as easy as they could, so’s not to hurt his feelin’s, and then go to doctorin’ the man’s eyes, to try to get him so he can see; hold the horse for him till he can see; curb the horse down so it will go smoother some; encourage the man by tellin’ him the truth that you are a keepin’ the horse for him, and he is a goin’ to get up onto him agin and ride him as soon as he can see, and the sooner he gets his eyesight the sooner he can ride.