Dawn by Eleanor Porter (best finance books of all time TXT) 📕

speak toanybody, not anybody, till Keith an' his father found some way to geton the inside of his shell. An' Keith's been so happy all winter doin'it; an' his father, too. So I tried to remind him that he'd been doin'his work.

"But it didn't do no good. Keith said that was all very well, an' hewas glad, of course; but that was only a little bit of a thing, an' 'twas all past an' gone, an' John didn't need 'em any more, an' therewasn't anything left for him now at all. Oh, Miss Dorothy, he talkedawfully. I never heard him run on so. An' I knew, from a lot of itthat he said, that he was thinkin' of that poem—he wouldn't ask forwealth or beauty or fame, or anything, an' that there didn't anythingcount but labor. You see?"

"Yes, I—see." Miss Dorothy's voice was very low. Her face was turnedquite away, yet Susan was very sure that there were tears in her eyes.

"An' his father!—he's 'most as bad as Keith," sighed Susan. "They'reboth as nervous as witches, what with the war an' all, an' they notbein' able to do anything. Oh, they do give money—lots of it—LibertyBonds an' Red Cross, an' drives, of course. You knew they'd got itnow—their money, didn't you, Miss Dorothy?"

"Yes, I had heard so."

"Not that it seems to do 'em any particular good," complained Susanwistfully. "Oh, of course things ain't so—so ambiguous as they was,an' we have more to eat an' wear, an' don't have to worry about bills.But they ain't any happier, as I can see. If only Keith could findsomethin'—"

"Yes, I know," sighed Miss Dorothy again, as she turned slowly away.

"I wish he—could."

"Well, come to see us, won't you?" urged Susan anxiously. "That'llhelp some—it'll help a lot."

But Miss Dorothy did not seem to have heard. At least she did notanswer. Yet not twenty-four hours later she was ringing the Burtons'doorbell.

"No, no—not there! I want to see YOU," she panted a littlebreathlessly, when Susan would have led the way to the living-room.

"But Keith would be so glad—" begged Susan.

"No, no! I particularly don't want him to know I am here," insisted

Dorothy.

And without further ado, but with rebellious lips and eyes, Susan ledthe way to the kitchen.

"Susan, I have a scheme, I think, that may help out Mr. Keith," beganthe young girl abruptly. "I'll have to begin by telling you somethingof what I've seen during these last two or three months, while I'vebeen away. A Mr. Wilson, an old college friend of my father's, hasbeen taking a lot of interest in the blind—especially since the war.He got to thinking of the blinded soldiers and wishing he could helpthem. He had seen some of them in Canada, and talked with them. Whathe thought of first for them was brooms, and basket-weaving and chair-caning, same as everybody does. But he found they had a perfect horrorof those things. They said nobody bought such things except out ofpity—they'd rather have the machine-made kind. And these men didn'twant things bought of them out of pity. You see, they were big, well,strong, young fellows, like John McGuire here; and they were gropingaround, trying to find a way to live all those long years of darknessthat they knew were ahead of them. They didn't have any especialtalent. But they wanted to work,—do something that was necessary—notbe charity folks, as they called it."

"I know," responded Susan sympathetically.

"Well, this Mr. Wilson is at the head of a big electrical machinerymanufacturing company near Chicago, like Mr. Sanborn's here, you know.And suddenly one day it came to him that he had the very thing rightin his own shop—a necessary kind of work that the blind could betaught to do."

"My lan', what was it? Think of blind folks goin' to work in a bigshop like Tom Sanborn's!"

"I know it. But there was something. It was wrapping the coils of wirewith tape. Mr. Wilson said they used hundreds of thousands of thesecoils all the time, and they had to be wrapped to insulate them. Itwas this work that he believed the blind could learn to do. Anyhow, hedetermined to try it. And try it he did. He sent for those soldiers hehad talked with in Canada, and he took two or three of father'spatients, and opened a little winding-room with a good electricalengineer in charge. And, do you know? it was wonderful, the way thosepoor fellows took hold of that work! Why, they got really skillful inno time, and they learned to do it swiftly, too."

"My lan'!" breathed Susan again.

"They did. He took me in to see them one day. It was just a big roomon the ground floor of an office building. He didn't put them in hisshop. He said he wanted to keep them separate, for the present,anyway. It had two or three long tables, and the superintendent movedup and down the room overseeing their work, and helping where it wasnecessary. There was a new man that morning, and it was perfectlywonderful how he took hold of it. And they were all so happy, laughingand talking, and having the best time ever; but they sobered up realearnest when Mr. Wilson introduced one or two of them to me. One manin particular—he was one of the soldiers, a splendid, great, blondfellow six feet tall, and only twenty-one—told me what this workmeant to them; how glad they were to feel of real use in the world.Then his face flushed, and his shoulders straightened a bit. 'Andwe're even helping a little to win the war,' he said, 'for these coilswe are winding now are for some armatures to go in some big motorsthat are going to be used in making munitions. So you see, we arehelping—a little.' Bless his heart! He didn't know how much he washelping every one, just by his big, brave courage.

"Well, Susan, all this gave me an idea, after what you said yesterdayabout Mr. Keith. And I wondered—why couldn't he wind coils, too? Andmaybe he'd get others to do it also. So