Black Yarn and Blue by Charlotte Maria Tucker

SOFTLY outside Mary's cottage fell the rain, the gentle April rain; and round and round went the wheel within the cottage, where Mary sat at her spinning. Never did her husband wear a pair of socks that was not of Mary's spinning and knitting. The hum of the cottager's busy wheel was a pleasant sound; and cheerful and bright looked Mary's face as she busily spun her blue yarn.

But the face of her son Jemmy was neither cheerful nor bright, as he sat, with his crutches beside him, in front of the fire, with his back turned towards his mother. First Jemmy yawned, then yawned again, and then he took to sighing; and his sigh had so dreary a sound, that it drew the attention of Mary.