harles, shall practise your drawing
while Helen works, and then while I hear Helen spell and read, you may
write. Each day of our lives should be made some good use of; and while
we are young, and have health and strength, we ought to learn all those
things which we may wish to know when we are grown old.'

Charles and Helen Laurie now ran in search of their books, which were
soon found, as they were laid in the right place; and then they sat down
to their tasks, glad to please their aunt, and quite certain that to
learn to be wise and good was the best thing in the world.

At the hour of noon, when the clock had struck twelve, their aunt told
them to leave their books, put on their hats, and go out to walk with
her. They went through some fields, and down a pretty lane, and in the
hedges on each side were tall oak, elm, and poplar trees, that made the
lane look like a grove, and kept them from the rays of the sun. At length
they came to a small, neat, white house that stood on a green lawn, and
had bushes of lilac blossoms before the windows, with a large fish-pond
at the end of it. The house had rails before it, and Charles and Helen
went with their aunt through a gate that was made of the tools that men
work with in the fields, such as a rake, a spade, a hoe, and a scythe.

In the house they saw a fine-looking boy of ten years of age, with
light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and cheeks as red as a rose. He came up to
Charles and Helen, and shook hands with them, and seemed joyous at
seeing them, but did not say a word. They thought it strange that he did
not speak to them; and at last Charles said to him, 'Your lawn would be
a good place to play at trap-ball on, if it were not for the fish-pond
that is so near it. Do you play at trap-ball, sir?'

The boy, whose name was Jackson, put his hand to his mouth, shook his
head, got up from his chair, went for a slate, wrote on it, and gave it
to Charles, who read these words: 'I cannot speak to you. I do not hear
what you say to me. I am a poor deaf and dumb boy, but I shall be glad
to please you, now you have been so kind as to come to see me. Pray
write down on this slate what you wish me to do.'

Charles took the slate, and when Helen read the words that were written
on it, her eyes were full of tears, to think that such a sweet boy
should be deaf and dumb. But Charles hung his head, for Jackson wrote
so fine a hand, that he did not like to show that he could not perform
a