THE BLIND BASKET-MAKER
Henry, the basket-maker, is sitting at the door of his house. He is now nearly sixty years of age. With Fido his dog, and Lucy his granddaughter, he goes from place to place and gets work. Lucy finds it very tiresome to go every day with her grandfather, but Fido is very fond of going.
The old man has not seen the sun, or his own face, or the trees, or anything at all, for more than twenty years. He does not know what Lucy looks like. He only runs his fingers through her golden ringlets and calls her his Sunshine.
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He can make a basket in one morning. He makes it of willow branches that are of several colors. How does he do that? Why, Lucy puts all the willow that is of the same color in one pile, and then tells him. He says Lucy is his eye. Lucy would rather play than sort willow.
If Fido could only be taught to know colors, would it not be nice? There, that basket is done, and off walks the old man, cane in hand, and the basket on one arm. Lucy leads him, and Fido follows close.