Then Her Majesty went back to her seat, and I reseated myself with her.
“The present institution is only the beginning,” she said. “I have a scheme for establishing a city for the blind—a model town, to which the blind of every nation may come and work, and support themselves. Now I will tell you something about it. When it was known that I intended to do this, people came forward on every hand to give me assistance. One gentleman gave me 100,000 francs, while a lady has given me the site for the city near Sinaia, a beautiful place where, close by, we have a castle. The site is an ideal one, and very shortly we shall lay it out with model houses built in modern style, in which two families can live. We do not wish to separate a blind man from his family, but the kitchens will be in common, so that the wife may be relieved of much of her household duties and afforded time to work and earn money.”
“We have several model villages in England, your Majesty,” I remarked. “The one called Port Sunlight might interest you. I could perhaps get photographs from Mr. Lever, who built it.”
“Oh, do. It would be so kind of you. Will you ask him?” she said. “I might get some excellent ideas from Mr. Lever’s scheme. Of course we must have a working men’s club, a concert hall, a church, and recreation room.”
“And what does your Majesty call your present institution?”
“In Roumanian it is ‘The Hearth of Light,’ but in English it would be better translated as ‘The Home of Light.’ Would you like to visit it?”
“I should be delighted,” I replied.
“Then Monske shall call for you and show you everything. Remember that the people are not paupers. From the first day they come to us they receive one franc a day, which is increased according to the skill they show in chair-making, basket-making, rope-making, and other such industries. As regards the blind city scheme, Mrs. Fern, wife of a former American Minister here, is starting for the United States in a few days, and is taking one of the new machines with her, and is going to hold conferences and explain the scheme in the principal cities of America. You see now, for the first time, education is fully open to the blind. The books will be printed as easily as other books, and will be within the reach of all. It is a splendid thing—and I am happy to say that I am receiving donations from every side. I have worked for years, and now the people are, I am gratified to think, appreciating my efforts in the cause of humanity. Yesterday Monske came to me and showed me 500 francs he had that day received. I held up notes for 7000 francs, which I had also received. One firm has sent me a magnificent organ, and I have even poor families subscribing a franc a month towards the blind. Does not that show that in the hearts of the people there is a corner for the poor afflicted? But remember that the blind colony is to be open to all nationalities. It is a big undertaking, I admit; for I have in Roumania twenty thousand people and their families. Yet the scheme will work, I am confident. And while they are now in penury, they will soon be educated, and be able to place themselves, by their work, in a position of independence.”
For over an hour we chatted together, until, after promising to send me a signed photograph of herself and of the King, she rose, saying—
“I am so delighted to have had a chat with you, Mr. N——. I will send Mr. Monske to you in the morning. But the King is alone, and will want me to read again to him, so I must go.” And Her Majesty, smiling graciously, gave me her hand, saying, “Au revoir.”