inst a chair. He found one, and seated himself. He was young, small,
vigorous, with black hair, a high and open forehead, a singularly
expansive face for a blind man, and, as Rabelais says, a magnificent
smile of thirty-two teeth. His wife remained standing behind him.

"James," said Mr. Desgranges to him, "here is one of my good friends,
who is very desirous to see you."

"He is a good man, then, since he is your friend."

"Yes. Talk with him; I am going to see my geraniums. But do not be sad,
you know I forbid you that."

"No, no, my dear friend, no!"

This tender and simple appellation seemed to charm the young man; and
after the departure of his friend, approaching the blind man, he said,

"You are very fond of Mr. Desgranges?"

"Fond of him!" cried the blind man, with impetuosity; "he saved me from
ruin, sir. It was all over with me; the thought of my children consumed
me; I was dying because I could not see. He saved me."

"With assistance--with money?"

"Money! what is money? Everybody can give that. Yes, he clothed us, he
fed us, he obtained a subscription of five hundred francs (about one
hundred dollars) for me; but all this was as nothing; he did more--he
cured my heart!"

"But how?"

"By his kind words, sir. Yes, he, a person of so much consequence in the
world, he came every day into my poor house, he sat on my poor stool, he
talked with me an hour, two hours, till I became quiet and easy."

"What did he say to you?"

"I do not know; I am but a foolish fellow, and he must tell you all he
said to me; but they were things I had never heard before. He spoke to
me of the good God better than a minister; and he brought sleep back to
me."

"How was that?"

"It was two months since I had slept soundly. I would just doze, and
then start up, saying,

"'James, you are blind,' and then my head would go round--round, like
a madman; and this was killing me. One morning he came in, this dear
friend, and said to me,

"'James, do you believe in God?'

"'Why do you ask that, Mr. Desgranges?'

"'Well, this night, when you wake, and the thought of your misfortune
comes upon you, say aloud a prayer--then two--then three--and you will
go to sleep.'"

"Yes," said the wife, with her calm voice, "the good God, He gives
sleep."

"This is not all, sir. In my despair I would have killed myself. I said
to myself, 'You are useless to your family, you are the woman of the
house, and others support you.' But