Carolina Lee

"Well, if I could prove to you that your baby could be made to see, would you holler and laugh?"

"I reckon I wouldn't. I'd kiss your feet."

"The only trouble," murmured Carolina, half to herself, "is that you are a Roman Catholic. We do not like to interfere with them."

"I am not a Roman Catholic," said Flower. "The lady who brought me up, and whom I was taught to believe was my aunt, was a Catholic, but I never was baptized. I believe Father Hennessey knows who I am, and that, if he would, he could clear up the mystery of my birth and give me back my happiness. But he never will until I join his church. He told me so."

"Is he an old man?" asked Carolina.

"Oh, a very old man. He must be over eighty,"

A slight pause ensued. Then Carolina said: "Would you like to hear of this new religion?"

"If it will give my baby eyes, Cousin Carolina, how can you even stop to ask?"

"Oh, my dear, it is only because we are taught to go cautiously, – to be sure our help is wanted before we offer."

"Well, offer it to me. I want your help with all my soul!"

She rose from her corner and came and sat at Carolina's feet. Something of Carolina's sincerity, which always appealed to people, moved her to believe that Carolina could help her. Flower's mind, too, though it may sound like an anomaly, had been trained by her aunt's Catholicism to believe in signs and wonders, and her superstitions had been carefully educated. Therefore, when a more analytical mind might have hesitated to believe that material help for a supposed hopeless affliction could come from religion, instead of from a knife or a drug, which even the most skeptical may see and handle and thus believe, Flower, by her very childishness, held up a receptive mind for the planting of the seed of an immortal truth.

The gravity of the situation caused Carolina a moment's wrestle with error. The burning eyes of the young mother fastened on Carolina's face with such agonizing belief, – the feeble flutterings of the sleeping baby in her arms terrified her for a brief second. Then she lifted her heart to the boundless source of supply for every human need, and in a moment she felt quieted and could begin.

"Flower," she said, "do you believe in God?"

"Of course I do."

"Did you ever read your Bible?"

"No."

"Have you one?"

"No."

"Will you promise to read it if I will give you one?"

"I will do whatever you want me to."

Carolina hesitated a moment.

"Will your husband object to your trying Christian Science with the baby?"

"I don't know-yes, I suppose he will. What shall we do?"

"What will he want to do when he first learns that the baby is blind?"

"I reckon he'll want to have Doctor Dodge see him."

"There is no objection to that. Then what will he do?"

"There isn't anything we can do just now, Cousin Carol. We have had a dreadful time even to live since we were married. And look what a shanty we live in! Not fit for a negro. And Winfield a La Grange! Of course, if the crops are better next year we might be able to take him away to consult some big doctor, but this winter we can't do anything at all."

"I don't know what to do," said Carolina. "You ought to get your husband's consent first."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Does your treatment commence right away?"

"It is already begun."

"Why, how? You haven't done anything that I could see. Do you pray?"

"Not to any virgin or saint, Flower."

"No, I know that Protestants pray to God. Is that what you want me to do?"

"I want you first to have a talk with Winfield and Moultrie-"

"Moultrie will help me!" interrupted Flower. "I'll ask him to talk to Winfield."

"Well, do that. Then if he says you may try it, I want you not to tell another soul, especially don't let Aunt Tempy or any of the negroes know a word about it. I want you to get up about twelve o'clock every night and light your candle, and put it where it shines directly in the baby's eyes. It can't hurt him. Then read the whole of the New Testament, – just as much every night as you can for one hour, believing that everything which was true of Jesus and His disciples then, can be and is true of His disciples on earth to-day, and that, if any one of us could ever be as pure and holy as He was, that we could do the one thing which is denied us yet, – that is, raise the dead! Will you?"

"Indeed, I will."

"Then every night I will treat your baby's eyes by mind-healing, which I will explain to you a little later. In the meantime, you watch very closely to see the first indication which Arthur's eyes give of the light's making him stir, for that will show that his darkness is lifting and that he is beginning to see."

Flower raised herself up and clung to Carolina's knees and buried her face in her dress, weeping bitterly.

"Oh, oh! Don't think I am unhappy. I am crying because I think you can do it. How long will it take?"

"No one can say. It may only take one treatment, or it may take years. 'According to your faith be it unto you.'"

Just then, as Carolina rose to go, the baby wakened, and Flower reached for him and pressed him to her bosom in a passion of grief and hope.

"Look!" she whispered to Carolina, "you can tell from the very expression of his little eyes that he can't see. I remember now that once the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he kept them open, but I didn't notice it at the time."

"Remember this, Flower. We think that he can't see. But in God's eyes he is perfect. With Him there is no blindness nor sickness nor sin nor sorrow. He will take away your grief. He will wipe away all tears from your eyes."

CHAPTER XVI

A LETTER FROM CAROLINA

    "'THE BATH,' ENTERPRISE, S.C.,
    "January 27, 19-

"MY DEAR MR. HOWARD: – If only I could drop in on you this evening and make my report in person, what couldn't I tell! You would laugh if you knew why we call our house The Bath. But first, have I ever told you that we have a house? Well, Guildford is so far from even Whitehall, which is the nearest place we visited, that I lost too much time in coming and going. I must have been eight hours in the saddle some days, and I didn't get on fast enough to suit my leaping ambition, – and-bathrooms are scarce in the country, so Cousin Lois and I decided to build a model cabin or quarters before we started the house, and live on the place. There was already a windmill, so I ordered a porcelain tub in Charleston, and built my house around it. Cousin Lois preëmpts it most of the time, but I get my full share, and it is a luxury. Did you ever try going without a bathroom? Try it. It will make you 't'ink ob yo' marcies,' as the negroes say.

"Oh, we are so happy! Every day some of the dear neighbours who knew Guildford in its prime ride or drive over to tell me little forgotten quirks of the blessed place, and to assure me that I am copying it faithfully. Cousin Lois calls it curiosity, but I think it is interest. But the primitive methods in vogue in the South-well, you simply would not believe me unless you saw them. For example, at the turpentine plant at Schoville, which I will tell you more of later, my engineer found them ladling out the crude turpentine by hand, when you know it ought to be piped, and half the time this cheap negro labour, which they hire to save machinery, is drunk or striking, which often shuts down the plant for days at a time, – ten days at Christmas always. Machinery may be expensive, but, at least, it doesn't get drunk, and by means of it a man may run his business, even in the South, regularly, and so build up a reputation for reliability, which, honestly, Mr. Howard, nobody down here seems to know the meaning of, as we understand it! Any excuse serves. Just make your excuse-that's all. It not only seems to relieve the conscience of the purveyor, but satisfies the consumer as well. In Georgia it is a State law not to move freight on Sunday. Imagine that, added to the railroad service as it stands! And in a certain town in Middle Georgia, the fire-engines are drawn by oxen. I enclose the kodak I took of it, for I know you won't believe me else. One thing the South needs more than anything else is some of our Northern Italian labour. Then the negroes will see what it really is to work.