"I cannot see so well as I used," he said to himself. "I can hardly see to do my work. It is evident that my eyes are growing dim. Probably I shall be blind before long, and unable to do any work; and then I must starve to death, or go to the almshouse. Perhaps it will be better for me to go there now, while I can yet see a little."

Just then his neighbor, who was a stirring woman, came in to pass the time of day and ask for his health.

"Why do you sit here," she asked, "looking like beanstalks after frost?"

So the man told her his thoughts: how his eyes were failing, and he could hardly see to do his work, and he must starve or go to the almshouse; and while he was talking she bustled about the room, drawing water, and rummaging among the cloths in the drawer of the dresser.

When he had finished talking, "Man alive," she said, "your windows are dirty; that is all the matter."

So she washed the windows.

"There!" she said, and went about her business.

"Dear me!" said the man, "how this glare hurts my eyes! They must be weaker than I thought."

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