diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61918-0.txt | 7117 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61918-0.zip | bin | 157623 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61918-h.zip | bin | 241731 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61918-h/61918-h.htm | 8194 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61918-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 78711 -> 0 bytes |
8 files changed, 17 insertions, 15311 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81e068d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61918 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61918) diff --git a/old/61918-0.txt b/old/61918-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ed76c87..0000000 --- a/old/61918-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7117 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Adventures in Silence, by Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Adventures in Silence - -Author: Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -Release Date: April 24, 2020 [EBook #61918] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES IN SILENCE *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Brian Wilsden and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - - - - ADVENTURES IN - SILENCE - - - _BY_ - - HERBERT W. COLLINGWOOD - - - _Distributed by_ - - THE RURAL NEW YORKER - 333 WEST 30th STREET - NEW YORK - - - - - Copyright, 1923 - - By HERBERT W. COLLINGWOOD - - - _Printed in U. S. A._ - - - - - TO E. W. C. - WHOSE RARE SYMPATHY AND - SISTERLY UNDERSTANDING HAVE - HELPED ONE DEAF MAN THROUGH - THE SILENCE. - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -There are in this country about 75,000 people who were never able to -hear. There are also about half a million who have lost all or part of -their hearing, and more than one million in addition who must use some -contrivance to aid their ears. This army, nearly as large as the one -sent overseas, is forced to live a strange and mysterious life, which -most normal persons know nothing about, even though they come into daily -contact with the outposts. The ordinary deaf man is usually regarded -as a joke or a nuisance, according to the humor of his associates. -This social condition is largely due to the fact that he has found -no place in literature; he occupies an abnormal position because his -story has never been fairly told. The lame, the halt and the blind -have been driven or gently led into literature. Poem, essay and story -have described their lives, their habits, their needs; as a result the -average person of reasonable intelligence has a fair notion of what it -is like to be crippled or blind. _But no one tells what it is like to -be deaf._ No one seems to love a deaf man well enough to analyze his -thought or to describe the remarkable world in which he must live apart, -although he may be close enough to his companions to touch them and -to see their every action. Very likely this is our own fault; perhaps -we have no right to expect the public to do for us what we should do -for ourselves. I have long felt that we are sadly handicapped socially -through this failure to put our life and our strange adventures into -literature—the deaf person must remain a joke or a tragedy until he -has made the world see something of the finer side of his life in the -silence. This is why I have attempted to record these “adventures.” I -am aware that it is rather a crude pioneer performance. Beginnings are -rarely impressive. Much as we respect the pioneer of years ago, very few -of us would care to house and entertain him today. It is my hope that -this volume will lead other deaf persons to record their experiences, -so that we may present our case fully to the public. The great trouble -is that we find it so easy to make a genuine “tale of woe” out of our -experience; it is hardly possible to avoid this if we record honestly. -Perhaps we “enjoy the thought of our affliction” so thoroughly that we -do not realize that the reading public has no use for it. My own method -of avoiding this has been to turn the manuscript over to my daughter -and to walk away from it, leaving her entirely free to cut the “grouch” -out of it with the happy instruments of youth and hope and music. With -us the great adventure of life is to pass contentedly from the world of -sound into the world of silence and there strive to prepare ourselves -for the world of serenity which lies beyond. - - H. W. COLLINGWOOD. - - - - -CONTENTS - - Page - - INTRODUCTION 3 - - TERRORS THAT ARE IMAGINARY 9 - - ON THE ROAD TO SILENCE 20 - - HEAD NOISES AND SUBJECTIVE AUDITION 38 - - FACING THE HARD SITUATION 52 - - A HEART FOR ANY FATE 73 - - MEMORIES OF EARLY LIFE 87 - - EXPERIMENTING WITH THE DEAF MAN 101 - - COMPANIONS IN TROUBLE 116 - - THE APPROACH TO SILENCE 133 - - MIXING WORD MEANINGS 147 - - THE WHISPERING WIRE 160 - - “NO MUSIC IN HIMSELF” 178 - - SILENCE NOT ALWAYS GOLDEN 194 - - CASES OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY 210 - - ALL IN A LIFETIME 223 - - “SUCH TRICKS HATH STRONG IMAGINATION” 239 - - “THE TERROR THAT FLIETH BY NIGHT” 256 - - “GROUCH” OR GENTLEMAN 274 - - - - -ADVENTURES IN SILENCE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -TERRORS THAT ARE IMAGINARY - - The World of Silence Uncharted—Two Initial Incidents, - Darkness in the Tunnel, and at Home—Imaginary Terrors of - the Deaf—When John Harlow Thought He Was a Murderer. - - -For some years I have considered writing a book concerning the life of -the deaf or the “hard of hearing.” It is hard to understand why our -peculiar and interesting life in the silent world has not been more -fully recorded. We read of adventures in strange lands, far away, yet -here is a stranger country close by, with its mysteries and miseries -uncharted. Having lived in this silent world for some years, I have -often planned to make an effort to describe it. However, like many other -writers, I could not get going. I was not able to start my story until -two rather unusual incidents spurred me into action. - -Those of you who know industrial New York understand how the vast army -of commuters is rushed to the city each day and rushed home again at -night. From New Jersey alone a crowd of men and women larger by far than -the entire population of the State of Vermont is carried to the banks of -the Hudson from a territory sixty miles in diameter. Once at the river -bank there are two ways by which these commuters may reach the city. -They may float over in the great ferryboats, or they may dive under the -river in rapid trains driven through a tube far below the water. This -submarine travel is the quicker and more popular way, and during the -rush hours the great tunnel makes one think of a mighty tube of vaseline -or tooth paste with a giant hand squeezing a thick stream of humanity -out of the end. - -I reach the Hudson over the Erie Railroad. At this point the underground -tube makes a wide curve inland, and in order to get to the trains we -must walk through a long concrete cave far underground. The other -morning several trains arrived at the Erie station together, and their -passengers were all dumped into this cave like grain poured into a long -sack. There was a solid mass of humanity slowly making its way to the -end. The city worker naturally adapts himself to a crowd. He at once -becomes an organized part of it. Take a thousand countrymen, each from -the wide elbow room of his farm, and throw them together in a mass and -they would trample each other in a panic. The city crowd, as long as -it can be kept good-natured, will march on in orderly fashion; but let -it once be overcome by fear, and it will be more uncontrolled than the -throngs of countrymen. - -This cave is brilliantly lighted, and we were moving on in orderly -procession, without thought of danger. We would move forward perhaps 50 -feet and then halt for a moment—to move ahead once more. During one -of these halts I looked about me. At my right was a group of giggling -girls; at my left a white-faced, nervous man; behind, a lame man, and in -front two great giants in blouse and overalls. I was close by the change -booth. A slight, pale-faced young woman sat within; the piles of money -in front of her. A husky, rough-looking man was offering a bill to be -changed. I saw it all, and as I looked, in an instant the lights flashed -out and left us in inky darkness. - -I have been left in dark, lonely places where I groped about without -touching a human being, but it was far more terrifying to stand in that -closely packed crowd and to realize what would happen in case of a -panic. I reached out my hand and could touch a dozen people, but I could -hear no sound. Suppose these silly girls were to scream; suppose this -man at my elbow were to yell “Fire!” as fools have often done in such -crowds. Suppose that man at the booth reached in, strangled the girl and -swept the money out. At any of these possible alarms that orderly crowd -in the dark might change to a wild mob, smashing and trampling its way -back to the entrance, as uncontrollable as the crazy herds of cattle -I had seen in Western stampedes. The deaf man thinks quickly at such -times, and in the black silence dangers are magnified. The deaf are -usually peculiar in their mental make-up; most of them have developed -the faculty of intuition into a sense, and they can quickly grasp many -situations which the average man would hardly imagine. - -But there was no scream or call of alarm. After what seemed to me half -an hour of intense living, the lights flashed back and the big clock at -the end of the cave, solemnly ticking the time away, showed us that we -had been less than 50 seconds in darkness. With a good-natured laugh the -crowd moved on. Those girls had had no thought of screaming. They were -more interested in the group of young men behind them. That nervous man, -whom I had thought trembling with fright, had been laughing at the joke. -The rough-looking man, whom my fancy had painted as a possible murderer -and thief, had been standing before that money like a faithful dog on -guard. There had been danger of a panic, and I had sensed it, but most -of my companions had thought of nothing except the joke of being held up -for a moment. They were happier for their lack of imagination. - -At home I started to tell our people about it. The baby sat on my knee. -She had my knife in her hand, paring an apple. Mother sat by the table -sewing, and the children were scattered about the room. Suddenly the -lights snapped out. I put up my hand just in time to catch the knife -as the baby swung her arm at my face. And there we sat, waiting for -the lights to return. There was no fear, for we knew each other. There -was faith in that darkness; there could be no panic. I could hear no -sound, yet the baby curled up close to me and all was well. Darkness is -the worst handicap for the deaf. Give them light and they can generally -manage; but, in the dark, without sound, they are helpless, and unless -they are blessed with strong faith and philosophy, imagination comes -and prints a series of terror pictures for them which you with your -dependable hearing can hardly realize. - -These incidents gave me my start by bringing to my mind the story of -John Harlow, curiously typical of the imaginary terrors of the deaf and -the folly of giving way to them. John Harlow was a New England man. He -had all the imagination and all the narrow prejudice of his class; he -had never traveled west of his own corner of the nation, and he was -deaf. The man who carries this combination of qualities about with him -is booked for trouble whenever he gets out among new types of people. -Part of the Harlow property was invested in land lying in the mountains -of Eastern Kentucky, and it became necessary for John to go there, to -look up titles and investigate agents. - -About all the average New Englander of that day knew of that mountain -country was that it seemed to be the stage on which bloody family -feuds were fought out. The _Atlantic Monthly_ had printed stories by -Charles Egbert Craddock, and they were accepted as true pictures of -mountain life. John Harlow should have known that the New Englanders -and the mountaineers are alike the purest in real American blood, and -that they must have many traits in common; but he went South with the -firm conviction that life in the mountains must be one long tragedy of -ambuscades and murders. - -When a deaf man gets such ideas in mind, imagination prints them in red -ink, because the deaf must brood over their fears and troubles. They -cannot lighten the mind with music or aimless conversation. So when -Harlow left the train at a little mountain hamlet he was not surprised -to find his agent a tall, solemn-eyed man, with a long gray beard; a -typical leader in the family feud, as the Boston man had pictured it. -Harlow mounted the buckboard beside this silent mountaineer, and they -drove off into the mountains just as the dusky shadows were beginning to -creep down into the little nooks and valleys. As soon as this man found -that John was deaf he drove on in silence, glancing at his companion now -and then with that kindly awe with which simple people generally regard -the deaf. - -It was quite dark when they reached a small “cove” or opening in which -stood a large house, with the usual farm buildings around it; the -forest crept close to the barn at one point. It struck John that the -buildings were arranged in the form of a fort, but what a chance had -been left for the enemy to creep up through the woods and suddenly fall -upon them! After supper John stood at the window watching the moon lift -itself over the mountain and go climbing up the sky. There came to his -mind the description of just such a moonrise, from one of Craddock’s -stories, where a group of mountaineers came creeping over the hill to -fall upon the home of their enemy. As he stood there he became aware -that the whole family was making preparations for what seemed to him -like defense. The women came and pulled down the curtains, and one of -the boys went out and closed the heavy shutters. His host came and tried -to explain, but Harlow was nervous, and it is hard to make the deaf hear -at such times. All that he could catch were scattered words or parts -of sentences. “We are waiting for them.” “They will be here by nine -o’clock.” “There is a pistol for you.” “They have done us great damage.” -“We must kill them tonight.” - -Then the lights were put out, and even the great fire in the fireplace -was dimmed; a rug was thrown over the crack under the door, and they all -sat there—waiting. John Harlow, the deaf man, will never forget that -scene. The little splinter of light from the fire revealed the stern -old man and his three sons waiting, gun in hand, and the women sitting -by the table, knitting mechanically in the dimness—all listening for -the coming of the enemy. By the door lay two large dogs, alert and -watchful. And Harlow, pulled from a comfortable place in Boston and -suddenly made a part of this desperate family quarrel, did not even know -what it was all about. He started twice to demand an explanation in the -loud, harsh tones of the deaf, but the older man quickly waved him to -silence. - -How long they sat in that dim light Harlow cannot tell. He never thought -to look at his watch. Suddenly the dogs lying by the door started up -with low growls and bristling hair. - -“Here they are,” said the old man; “now get ready.” - -He thrust a pistol into John’s hand and took him by the arm as the -boys silently opened the door and passed out with the dogs. John found -himself following. In the moonlight they crept along the shadow of the -buildings out to the point where the woods crawled in almost to the -barn. There the old man crept off to one side. For the moment the moon -was obscured by a passing cloud. Then its light burst upon them, and -John from his hiding-place distinctly saw three forms crawling slowly -across the grassy field to the back of the barn. In the clear moonlight -he could distinguish three white faces, peering through the deep grass. -They would move slowly forward a few feet, and then halt, apparently to -listen. The deaf man in this strange, lonely place, thought he saw three -desperate men making their way to the barn buildings. This very thing -had been described in one of the stories he had read; three mountaineers -had crawled slowly through the grass to set fire to the barn. And it -came to John’s mind that these three white-faced fiends were creeping up -to burn down this home and then shoot down its occupants by the light -from the burning! The nearest crawler came slowly to within two rods of -John and raised his head to look about him. As viewed in the moonlight -it seemed a hideous face, hardly human in its aspect. - -John Harlow was a man of peace, and he had been cursing himself for -having been brought into this neighborhood quarrel. It was none of -his business, he told himself, but the sight of this cowardly wretch -crawling up like a snake to fire the buildings was too much for Boston -reserve, and John raised his pistol, took aim at that hateful white -face and pulled the trigger. The figure seemed to throw itself in the -air at the shot, and then it lay quiet, the ghastly face still in the -moonlight. - -As John fired there came a sharp volley from the other buildings, and -the two other shapes lay still. A cloud passed over the moon, and -through the darkness, feeling himself a murderer, John found his way -back to the house, where the women were waiting with eager faces. They -lighted the lamps once more and the men came tramping back, to hang -their guns on the wall. They were all in great spirits, and the old man -came to John’s chair and with much shouting and waving his hands, made -the deaf man understand. - -“You made a great shot. Got him right between the eyes. We got them all -laid out on the grass—come out and see them.” - -But John did not want to see these dead men! He was a murderer. He had -killed a man, perhaps an innocent stranger who had never done him wrong. -It was frightful, but even the women insisted that he come, so with his -eyes shut John permitted himself to be drawn out to the hateful spot -where those dead bodies were lying. - -“There’s the one you got!” roared a voice in his ear. - -“You must be a dead shot—look at him; see how white he is!” - -And Harlow opened his eyes, expecting to see a picture which could never -be erased from memory. There were the dead bodies on the grass before -him in the lantern light. There were three big skunks with more than the -usual amount of white about their faces and backs! - -Harlow gazed at them, and his paralyzed mind slowly came back to -normal working order. And then the light came. He had not taken part -in any family feud. No one had tried to kill him. The people of that -section were as kindly neighbors as any he had ever had in Boston. For -some weeks the skunks had been stealing chickens, and the family had -organized this successful defense. It was not the white face of a man -that John had seen in the tangled grass, but the white head and back of -a skunk. He was not a murderer—he was only a skunk-killer! - -Most deaf men go through these “adventures in silence.” Many of them -are not particularly thrilling, but they are sometimes exciting enough -to let the imagination run away with us. In what follows I shall try to -make it clear that most of our fears are imaginary—thin ghosts, stuffed -lions, scarecrows (or skunks!) which stand beside the road to frighten -us. For the deaf should know from experience that the only safety in -life is to _go on_, no matter what dangers croakers or cowards may -predict just around the curve. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -ON THE ROAD TO SILENCE - - The Nature of the Journey to the Silent - Country—Substitutes for Perfect Silence—Sounds of - Nature Companionable—The Direct Attack—“Just As I - am”—Compensation in Idealized Memories—“Cut Out the - Bitterness”—Reasons for Writing the Book—A Matter of - Point of View, Concerning John Armstrong’s Possessions. - - -I think life has given me a certificate which qualifies me to act as -guide and interpreter on the journey to the Silent Land. For forty -years I have been traveling along the road to silence. I have seen some -unfortunate people who were suddenly deprived of their hearing, as it -seemed without warning. Fate did not give them even a chance to prepare -for the death of sound. It was as if some cruel hand had suddenly -dragged them into a prison, a form of living death through which the -poor bewildered wretches must wander aimlessly until they could in some -feeble way adjust themselves to the new conditions which we shall find -in the world of silence. Happily my journey was not made in that way. -I have wandered slowly and gently along the road, each year coming a -little nearer to silence, yet working on so easily and unobtrusively -that the way has not seemed hard and rough. I know every step of the -road, and I can point out the landmarks as we pass along. You may be -compelled to travel over the same route alone some day. Perhaps your -feet are upon it even now, unknown to you. Take my advice and notice the -milestones as you pass them. - -Let’s not hurry. Let our journey be like one of those happy family -wanderings in the old farm days, long before the age of gasoline. On a -Sunday afternoon we would all start walking, on past the back of the -farm. Father, mother and the baby, all would go. We could stop to drink -from the spring, to rest under the pines, to stand on the hill looking -off over the valleys. The beauty of the walk was that time was no -object; our destination was nowhere in particular, and we always reached -it. No one hears of those family trips in these days. We “go” now. The -family, smaller than of old, will crowd into a car and go rushing about -the country in an effort to cover as many miles as possible, and to do -as little sight-seeing as may be during the rush. Now, we shall not -hurry, and there will be no great objection to our leaving the road now -and then to gather flowers or bright stones, or to watch a bird or a -squirrel. We shall need all the pleasant memories we can think of when -we arrive. - -Very likely you have before now entered into a “solitude where none -intrude,” and have thought yourself entirely alone in the silence. But -you had not reached the real end of the road. You missed some of the -familiar sounds of your everyday life, but there were substitutes. There -was always the low growl of the ocean, the murmur of the wind among -the trees, the cheerful ripple of the brook, the song of the birds, or -some of the many sweet sounds of nature. It was not the silence which -we know, nor were the voices which came to you harsh or distorted. They -were clear and true, even though they were strange to you. - -I did not realize how largely the habits of our life are bound up in -sound until some years ago we hired a city woman to come and work in our -farmhouse. We live in a lonely place. This woman spent one night with -us. In the morning she came with terror in her eyes and begged to be -taken back to New York. - -“It’s so still here; I can’t sleep!” - -It was true. Her ears had become so accustomed to the harsh noises of -the city that every nerve and faculty had been tuned to them. The quiet -of the country was as irksome to her as the constant city noises are -annoying to the countryman, just from his silent hills. Perhaps you -have awakened suddenly in the night in some quiet country place, let us -say in the loneliness of Winter in the hill country. You looked from -the window across the glittering snow to the dark pines which seemed to -prison the farm and house. You fancied that you had finally reached -the world of silence, and you were seized by a nameless terror as you -imagined what would happen to you if sight were suddenly withdrawn. Then -you heard the timbers of the house creak with the cold, the friendly -wind sighed through the trees and around the corner of the house. There -came faint chords of weird music as from an æolian harp when it passed -over some wire fence. Or perhaps there came to you the faint step of -some prowling animal. Then the terror vanished before these sounds of -the night. For this is not the world which I ask you to enter with me. -We are bound for the world of the deaf. I tell you in advance that it -is a dull, drab world, without music or pleasant conversation, into -which none of the natural tones of the human voice or the multitudinous -sounds of nature can come. You must leave them all behind, and you will -never realize how much they have meant to you until they are out of your -reach. Could you readjust your life for a new adventure in this strange -world? - -The deaf man must carry this world of silence about with him always, -and it leads him into strange performances. I know a deaf man who went -to a church service. He could hear nothing of the sermon, but he felt -something of the glory of worship, and when the congregation stood up to -sing my deaf friend felt that here was where he could help. - -“Just as I am, without one plea,” announced the preacher, and the deaf -man’s wife found the place in the hymn book. He sang along with the rest -and thoroughly enjoyed it. However, one of the penalties of the Silent -Country is that its inhabitants can rarely keep in step with the crowd. -My friend did not realize that at the end of each verse the organist was -expected to play a short interlude before the next verse started. There -has never seemed to me to be any reason for these ornamental musical -flourishes; they merely keep us from getting on with our singing. - -The deaf man knew nothing of all this. He was there to finish the -singing of that hymn. It is a habit of the deaf to go straight to the -end, since there is no reason why they should stop to listen. So he -started in on the second verse as all the rest were marking time through -that useless interlude, and he sang a solo: - -“Just as I am, and waiting not!” - -He sang with all his power, he was in good voice and his heart was -full of the glory of the service. He was never a singer at best, and -the voice of a deaf person is never musical. This hard, metallic voice -cut into that interlude much like the snarl of a buzz saw. His wife -tried to stop him, but he could not quite get the idea, and he sang -on. It is rather a curious commentary on the slavery to habit which -most intelligent human beings willingly assume that this one earnest -man, just as little out of step, nearly destroyed the inspiration of -that church service. The unconscious solo would have taken all the -worship from the hearts of that congregation had it not been for the -quick-witted organist. - -Some human beings have risen to the mental capacity of animals in -understanding and conveying a form of unspoken language. It may be -“instinct,” “intuition,” or what you will, but in some way they are able -to convey their meaning without words. I have found many such people -in the world of silence. The organist possessed this power. Before the -deaf man had sung five words she had stopped playing her interlude, had -caught the time of what he was singing, and was signaling the choir to -join her. By the time they reached the end of the second line at “one -dark spot” the entire congregation was singing as though nothing had -happened. The minister, too, sensed the situation, for at the end of the -verse, before the deaf man could make another start, he said: - -“Let us pray.” And the incident was happily closed. - -As I look about me in the world of silence and see some of the sad -blunders of my fellows, I feel that in their poor way they illustrate -something of the life tragedy which often engulfs the reformer. The deaf -man does not know or has forgotten that those who are blessed with good -hearing do not and cannot go straight to the mark. Much of their time -is wasted on useless “interludes” or ornamental flourishes which mean -nothing in work or worship. This man at the church, while his heart -was full, could only think of getting that hymn through, earnestly, -lovingly, and without loss of time. He may have had more true worship in -his heart than any other member of the congregation, but he dropped just -a little out of form, and he quickly became a ridiculous nuisance. The -truth is, if you did but know it, that some of your clumsy efforts to -keep step with so-called fashionable people make you far more ridiculous -than those of us who fall out of step. Nature never intended your big -feet for dancing, but, because others dance, you must try it. - -Your reformer broods over his mission until it becomes a part of his -life, a habit which he cannot break. He reaches a position where he -cannot compromise, sidestep or wait patiently. He goes ahead and never -waits for “interludes,” which most of us must put in between efforts at -“reform.” The rest of the world cannot follow him. He becomes a “crank,” -a “nut,” or an “old stick,” because he cannot stop with the crowd and -play with the theory of reform, but must push on with all his soul. -It seems to us who look out upon the aimless procession moving before -us that an average man feels that he cannot “succeed” unless he stops -at command and plays the petty games of society; he has sold himself -into the slavery of habit and fashion, though he knows how poor and -trivial they may be. This is bad enough, but it is worse to see scores -of people fastening the handcuffs on their children. Now and then the -organist has visions which show her what to do, and she swings the -great congregation to the deaf man’s lead. Unhappily there are few such -organists. - -It is strange, indeed, when you come to consider it, that two worlds, -separated only by sound, lie side by side and yet so far apart. You -cannot understand our life, and perhaps at times you shudder at the -thought of how narrow our lives have been made. We who have known sound -and lost it have learned to find substitutes, and we often wonder that -you narrow your own lives by making such trivial and ignoble use of -sound as we see you doing. Fate has narrowed our lives, and we have been -forced to broaden them by seeking the larger thoughts. You, it often -seems to us, straiten your own lives by dwelling with the smaller things -of existence. - -The deaf have one advantage at least. They have explored the pleasant -roads and the dark alleys of both worlds. If they are of true heart, -in doing so they have gained at least a glimpse of that other dim, -mysterious country which lies hidden beyond us all. To the blind, the -deaf, or to those who carry bravely the cross of some deep trouble, -there will surely come vision and promise which never appear to those -who are denied the privilege of passing through life under the shadow of -a great affliction. But these visions do not come to those who pass on -with downcast eyes, permitting their affliction to bear them down. They -are reserved for those who defy fate and march through the dark places -with smiling faces and uplifted eyes. - -Someone has said that the deaf man is half dead, because he is unable to -separate in his life the living memory or sound from the deadness of the -silence. - -“I must walk softly all my days in the bitterness of my soul.” - -That was the old prophet’s dismal view of life, and how often have I -heard hopeless sufferers, half insane with the jangle of head noises, -quote that passage. - -“Cut out the bitterness, and I’ll walk softly with you,” was the comment -of one brave soul who would not subscribe to the whole doctrine. I -have had two deaf men quote that and tell me that their condition -reminded them of what they had read of prison life in the Russian mines. -Formerly, in some of these mines, men were chained together at their -work below ground. Sometimes, when one member of the hideous partnership -died, the survivor did not have his chains removed for days! One of my -friends told me that he felt as though his life was passed dragging -about wherever he went the dead body of sound, and what it had meant -to his former life. Unless he could keep his mind fully occupied there -would rise up before him the dim picture of the prisoner dragging his -dead partner through the horrors of their underground prison. The other -man who made the comparison had a happier view of life. He told me -that he had read all he could find on the subject, and that when these -men were released from their hateful prison and brought up into the -sunlight, they seemed to know much about the great mystery into which we -all must enter. So he felt that he was not carrying the dead around with -him, but rather the living, for the spirit of the old life, the best of -it in memory and inspiration, remained with him. So we deaf are like you -of the sound-world in that some of us sink under our afflictions, while -to others of us they are stepping-stones. - -I have come to think that of all the human faculties, sound is the most -closely associated with life. The blind man may say that light means -more than sound; I do not know how the question can be fairly argued, -but I think in most cases deafness removes us further from the real joy -of living. You will notice that the blind are usually more cheerful -than the deaf. But at any rate, all the seriously afflicted have lost -something of life and are not on terms of full equality with those who -are normal. Their compensations must come largely from another world. - -Most people pass through life associating only with the living, and -thus give but little thought to any world beside their own. The great -majority of the people to whom I have talked about the other life are -Christians, more or less interested in church or charitable work, yet -they have no conception of what lies beyond. Many of them dimly imagine -a dark valley or a black hole in the wall through which they will grope -their way, hopeful that at some corner they may come upon the light. The -law of compensation must give those of us who have lost an essential -of human life a greater insight into that other shadowy existence. For -us who have entered the silence there must somewhere be substitutes -for music and for the charm of the human voice. Most of the deaf who -formerly heard carry with them memories of music or kindly words, -legacies from the world of sound. These are treasured in the brain, and -as the years go by they become more and more ideal. Just as the chemist -may by continued analysis find new treasures in substances which others -have discarded, the man whose ears are sealed may find new beauties in -an old song, or in some word lightly spoken, which you in your wild riot -of sound have never discovered. And perhaps out of this long-continued -analysis there may come fragments of a new language, a vision which -may give one a closer view or a keener knowledge of worlds beyond. Who -knows? Again, one may not only add the beauty of brightness to the past, -but one may, if he will, summon the very imps of darkness out of the -shadows for their hateful work of destroying faith and hope in the human -heart. The Kingdom of Heaven or the prison of hell will be built as one -may decide—and his tool is the brain. - -“_For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he!_” - -It is my conviction that this proverb was written by a deaf man, who had -thoroughly explored the world of silence! - -While the inhabitants of every locality are usually anxious to increase -their population, I am very frank to say that some of the recruits -wished upon us are not a full credit to our community. The world in -which we must live is naturally gloomy, where canned sunshine must be -used about as canned fruit is carried into the northern snows. It is -no help to have our ranks filled with discontented, unhappy beings -who spend the years which might be made the best of their lives in -bemoaning their fate and reminding the rest of us of our affliction. -What we are trying to do is to forget it as far as we can. The deaf -man does not want the world’s pity. That is the most distasteful thing -you can hand him, even though it be wrapped in gold. For the expressed -pity of our friends only leads to self-pity, and that, sooner or later, -will pit the face of the soul like a case of moral smallpox. The most -depressing thing I have to encounter is the well-meant pity of friends -and acquaintances. I know from their faces that they are shuddering at -the thought of my affliction, and I see them discussing it, as they -look at me! Why can they not stop cultivating my trouble? All we ask -is a fair chance to make a self-respecting living and to be treated as -human beings. This compassion makes me feel that I am being analyzed and -separated like an anatomical specimen; there will come to me out of the -distant past of sound the bitter words of a great actor, who said as -Shylock: - -“I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, -dimensions, senses, affections, passions?” - -I was brought up among deaf people. They seemed rather amusing to me, -and I could not imagine any condition which could put me in their place. -I now see that I should have profited by a study of their life and -habits. I could have been better prepared to live the life of a prisoner -in the silent world. Would I have struggled for greater power and -wealth? No, for they are not, after all, greater essentials here than in -your world. Were I to go over the road again, I should fill my mind and -soul with music, and should strive with every possible sacrifice to fill -out my life with enduring friendships, the kind that come with youth. -It seems to be practically impossible for the deaf man to gain that -friendship which is stronger than any other human tie. My aurist once -told me that at least sixty per cent of the people we meet in everyday -life have lost part of their hearing. They cannot be called deaf, but -the hearing is imperfect and deafness is progressive. Many of you who -read this may be slowly traveling toward our world, without really -knowing it. There are in the country today about sixty thousand deaf -and dumb persons. If we include these, my estimate is that there are at -least half a million persons who have little or no hearing, while over -one million are obliged to use some kind of a device for the ears. So we -may safely claim that our world is likely to become more thickly settled -in the future, and we may well prepare to number the streets and put up -signboards. - -And I will admit another reason for telling you about this quiet -country. It concerns our own people, for whom I speak. I would gladly -do what I can to make life easier for the deaf. Their lot is usually -made harder through the failure of others to understand the affliction, -and to realize what it means to live in the silence. In my own case -I can make no complaint. I am confident that society has treated me -better than I deserve, given me more than I have returned. I have been -blessed with family and friends who have made my affliction far easier -than it might have been. I realize that it is not easy for the ordinary -person to be patient and fair with the deaf. We may so easily become -nuisances. I presume that there is no harder test of a woman’s character -and ability than for her to serve as the wife of a deaf man, to endure -his moods and oddities and suspicions with gentleness and patience and -loving help. A woman may well hesitate to enter such a life unless the -man is of very superior character. - -Now and then I meet deaf people who complain bitterly at the treatment -which society metes out to them. In most cases I think they are wrong, -for we must all admit squarely the foundation fact of our affliction, -which is that we may very easily become a trouble and a nuisance -socially. We represent perhaps two per cent of the nation’s population, -and we can hardly expect the other ninety-eight per cent always to -understand us. I have had people move away from me as though they -expected me to bite them. Some sensitive souls might feel that they -were thus associated with mad dogs, but it is better to see the humor -of it. For my part, I have come to realize that I am barred from terms -of social equality with those who live in the kingdom of sound. I have -come to be prepared for a certain amount of impatience and annoyance. I -am often myself impatient with those dull souls who depend so entirely -upon their ears that they have failed to cultivate the instinct or the -intuition which enables us to grasp a situation at a glance. But I do -ask for our people a fair hearing, if I may put it that way. While we -are deprived of many of your opportunities and possibilities, we think -we have developed something which you lack, perhaps unconsciously. We -can turn our experience over to you if you will be patient. - -Do not fear that I shall corner you to make you listen to a tale of woe. -The truth is that I often feel, in all sincerity, exceedingly sorry for -you poor unfortunates who must listen to all the small talk and the -skim-milk of conversation. - - “I saw a smith stand with his hammer—thus, - The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, - With open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news!” - -It is so long since I have been able to chatter and play with words that -I forget what people talk about. Some of them at least seem to have -talked their tongues loose from their brains. I often ask intelligent -people after this chatter what it was all about, and whether their -brains were really working as they babbled on. Not one in ten can give -any good reason for the conversation or remember twenty words of it. -Do you wonder that we of the silence, seeing this waste of words, pick -up our strong and enduring book and wander away with the great undying -characters of history, rather thankful that we are not as other men, -condemned to waste good time on such trivial exercise of ears and -tongues? - -That is the way we like to think about it, but there is a worm in this -philosophy after all. I have reasoned things out in this way fifty -times; the logic seems perfect, and yet my mind works back from my book -to the story of John Armstrong and his New England farm. - -John was a seedling, rooted in one of those Vermont hill farms. The -Psalmist tells of a man who is like “a tree planted by the rivers of -water”; such a tree puts its roots down until it becomes well-nigh -impossible to pull them out of the earth. There had been a mortgage -howling at the Armstrong door for generations. Not much beside family -pride can be grown on these hillsides, and John would have spent his -life cultivating it to the end, if his lungs hadn’t given out. The -country doctor put it to him straight; it was stay on the hills and -die, or go to the Western desert and probably live. In some way the -love of life proved strongest. John bequeathed his share of the family -pride to brother Henry and went to Arizona. There he lost the use of one -lung, but filled his pockets with money. He secured a great tract of -desert land, and one day the engineers turned the course of a mountain -stream and spread it over John’s land. At home in Vermont the little -streams tumbled down hill, played with a few mill wheels, gave drink to -a few cows and sheep, and played on until they reached the river, to be -finally lost in the ocean. In Arizona the river caused the desert to -bloom with Alfalfa, and wheat, and orchards, thus turning the sand to -gold. - -And one day John stood on the mountain with his friends and looked over -the glowing country, all his—wealth uncounted. All his! Worth an entire -county of Vermont, so his friends told him. - -“You should be a happy man,” they said, “with all that wealth and power -taken from the sand. A happy man—what more can you ask?” - -“I know it,” said John. “I know it—and yet, in spite of it all, right -face to face with all this wealth, I’d give the whole darned country for -just one week in that Vermont pasture in June!” - -And so, unmolested in my world of silence, free from chatter and small -talk, able to concentrate my mind on strong books, I look across to the -idle gossipers and know just how John Armstrong felt. I would give up -all this restful calm if I could only hear my boy play his violin, if I -could only hear little Rose when she comes to say good-night, if I could -only hear that bird which they say is singing to her young in yonder -tree. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -HEAD NOISES AND SUBJECTIVE AUDITION. - - Head Noises—The Quality Probably Depends on the Memory - of Sounds Heard in Youth—The Sea and the Church - Bells—“Voices” and Subjective Audition—Insanity and the - Unseen—The Rich Dream-Life of the Deaf. - - -Deafness is not even complete silence, for we must frequently listen -to head noises, which vary from gentle whispering to wild roars or -hideous bellowing. There is little other physical discomfort usually, -though some exceptional cases are associated with headache or neuralgia. -There is, however, an annoying pressure upon the ears, which is greatly -increased by excitement, depression or extreme fatigue. Unseen hands -appear to be pressing in at either side of the head. The actual noises -are peculiar to the individual in both quantity and quality; there are -cases of the “boiler-maker’s disease,” where the head is filled with a -hammering which keeps time with the pulse. I have known people to be -amazed at the “uncontrolled fury” of the deaf when their anger is fully -aroused—perhaps by something which seems trivial enough. They do not -realize how a sudden quickening of the heart action may start a great -army of furies to shouting and smashing in the deaf man’s brain! - -Again, the roaring and the pounding will start without warning, and -then as suddenly fade to a dim murmur. It appears to diminish when the -victim can concentrate his mind upon some cheerful subject, so I take it -to be more of a mental or nervous disorder—not essentially physical. -Many times I have observed that these noises become more violent and -malignant whenever the mind is led into melancholy channels. They appear -to be modified and softened in dreams, so I am thankful that I have been -able to train myself into the ability to lie down and sleep when the -clamor becomes unendurable. I meet people who pride themselves on their -ability to go without sleep, and I shudder to think of their fate should -they ever be marooned in the silence, since they appear to regard extra -hours of sleep as a form of gross negligence at least! These night-owls -tell me that they are the “pep” of society—its greatest need. I am not -so sure of their mission. As I see it, the world has already too much -“pep” for its own good. We need more “salt.” - -You have doubtless noticed deaf people who go about with a weary, -half-frightened expression, and have wondered why they have failed to -“brace up” and accept their lot with philosophy. You do not realize how -these discordant sounds and malignant voices are driving these deaf -people through life as a haunted man is lashed along the avenues of -eternal doom. Of course his will frequently becomes broken down, and his -capacity for consistent and continuous labor is practically destroyed. -Do you know that if you were forced to remain for several hours in a -roaring factory you would come back to your friends showing the same -symptoms of voice and manner which you notice in the deaf? - -In my own case these noises have not been greatly troublesome, since I -have persistently refused to listen to them. It is not unlikely that -they are largely imaginary—although you are free to experiment by -taking a double dose of quinine, which should give you a fair imitation -of what many deaf people live with. The chief noise trouble that I -have had is a sort of low roaring or murmuring, at times rising to an -angry bellow, and then again dying to a low muttering. The deaf usually -remember common noises heard in their youth, although I fancy that -as the years go on our memory of sound changes with them. My private -demonstration reminds me of the old sound of the ocean, pounding on the -shores of the seaport town in New England where I was born. It seems to -me now that the ocean was never quiet, except at low tide, and even then -there came a low growl from the bar far out at the harbor entrance. I -can remember lying awake at night as a child, listening to the pounding -of the surf or the lap of the waves against the wharf. With a gentle -east wind there was a low, musical murmur, but when the wind rose and -worked to the north it seemed to me like a giant smashing at the beach, -or like a magnified version of the Autumn flails pounding on barn -floors far back among the hills. It seems to me now that I can hear -and distinguish all those variations of sound in the noises within my -head; I have often wondered if such memories ever come to those who have -perfect hearing. - -Poets and dreamers have enlarged upon the romantic quality of “the sad -sea waves.” I once knew a woman who wrote very successful songs about -the “shining sea,” though she never saw the ocean in her life. Those -who live in the interior, far from the ocean, with never a view of any -large body of water, are easily led to believe that the sounds of the -sea are delightful companions. I often wish I could share my part of -the performance with them! I would gladly exchange my constant sound -companion for ten minutes of wind among the trees. Bryant says: - - “There is society, where none intrude, - By the deep sea, and music in its roar.” - -True; but Bryant was not deaf. No doubt as a child he held a sea shell -to his ear and listened to its murmuring with delight. _But he could lay -it aside when it became tiresome!_ One speaks from quite another point -of view when incased for life within the shell. I think I know just how -the Apostle John felt when, looking out from every direction from his -weary island, he saw only the blue, rolling water. He wrote as part of -his conception of heaven: - - “There shall be no more sea!” - -I agree with him fully, and yet I know people whose conception of heaven -includes Byron’s apostrophe to the ocean. How can we all be satisfied? - -Other curious sounds come to us as we sit in the silence. Some are -interesting, a few are strange or delightful. I frequently seem to hear -church bells gently chiming, just as they did years ago when the sound -came over the hills of the little country town where I was a boy. The -sound now seems to start far away, dim in the distance; gradually it -comes nearer, until the tones seem to fall upon the ear with full power. -They are always musical, never discordant; they go as suddenly and as -unexpectedly as they come. And where do they come from? Can it be that -dormant brain cells suddenly arouse to life and unload their charge -of gentle memories? Or it may be—but you are not interested in what -the deaf man comes to think of strange messengers who enter the silent -world. You would not believe me were I to tell you all we think and -feel about them. - -When I asked my aurist about this he wanted to know if any particular -incidents of my childhood were connected with the ringing of bells. I -could remember two. It was the custom, years ago, for the sexton of the -Unitarian Church to come and strike the bell when any member of the -community died. There was one stroke for each year of their age. That -was the method of carrying the news. The sexton did not pull the rope, -but climbed into the belfry and pulled the tongue of the bell with a -string. It was my duty to count the strokes, and thus convey the news -to my deaf aunt. In that community we knew each other so well that this -tolling the age gave us as much about it as one would now get over the -telephone. And then the bell on the Orthodox Church over in the next -valley! That always rang on Sunday, before our bell did, and I heard it -softly and musically as the sound floated over us. I had been taught to -believe that the Orthodox people had a very hard and cruel religion, -and I used to wonder how their bell could carry such soft music. When -I spoke of this the aurist smiled understandingly and said it fully -explained why these musical sounds now come back to my weary brain. - -Actual voices come to us at times. I have had words or sentences -shouted lustily in my ears. In several cases while sitting alone at -night reading or writing this conversation of the unseen has seemed -so clear and natural that I have stopped and glanced about the room, -or even moved about the house, half expecting to find some visitor. -As a rule the sentences are incoherent, and are not closely connected -with everyday life; they sometimes refer to things which have preyed -upon my mind in previous days. Deaf friends have told me of direct and -important warnings and suggestions they have received in this way, but I -have known nothing of the sort. It does seem to me, however, that this -shouting and incoherent talking usually refers to matters which I have -deeply considered at times of depression, fatigue or strong excitement. -I consider that, as in the case of the bells, it may mean the sudden -stirring of brain cells which have stored up strongly expressed -thoughts, and are in some way able to give them audible rendition to the -deaf. - -My aurist offers an ingenious explanation. He says that I can hear my -own voice, and undoubtedly it is at some times clearer than at others. I -may unconsciously “think out loud”; that is, go through the interesting -performance of talking to myself without knowing that I am doing it. -Perhaps if he were deaf himself he would not be quite so sure of his -theory—nothing is so convincing as a fact. I remember that at one time -my dentist was trying to persuade me that I ought to have a plate. - -“But that is merely your theory,” I said. “You tell me that you can make -a plate which will enable me to eat and talk in a natural manner. How do -I know? I think a dentist, to be entirely successful, should be able to -prove such statements from his own experience.” - -For answer he gravely took a good-sized plate out of his own mouth. -I had no idea that he had one! I have often wished that some of our -skilled aurists might graft their theory of head noises upon practical -experience. - -Scientists and psychologists refer to these noises as subjective -audition. I shall attempt no scientific discussion of the matter, as -this book is intended to be a record of personal or related experience. -All students of deafness seem to agree that we can hear sounds, definite -noises and even words that are purely subjective. Certainly in some -forms of insanity the victims hear voices commanding them to do this or -that. I have known several persons apparently sane in all other matters -who insist that unseen friends talk to them and give advice. - -Some years ago I was permitted to make a careful study of members of -a small religious community which was established near my farm. Its -members were ordinary country people, for the most part of rather -low mentality and narrow thought, yet with a curiously shrewd power -of intuition. They were fanatics, and among other practices or -“self-denials” they refused to eat anything which had to do with animal -life. Thus they limited their diet to grain, vegetables and fruit. One -man, who called himself “John the Baptist,” found this restriction -a rigorous punishment, for he “liked to eat up hearty!” He wrestled -in spirit for weeks, and finally told me that he had received an -unanswerable argument straight from the Lord. In a moment of depression -he had heard a voice from Heaven saying very distinctly: - -“John, look at that big black horse!” - -“I can see him right now!” - -“Look at him! He is big and strong and can pull a plow all alone. Does -he eat meat? No, he lives on grain and hay—the grass of the field! Now -if that big horse can keep up his strength without meat, you can do the -same, John!” - -And John fully believed that he had held direct conversation with the -Lord. No man could shake his faith in that. Undoubtedly it was a case -of that subjective audition similar to what the deaf experience. John -_heard_ the conversation, or at least imagined that the words were -spoken; they followed or grew out of his thought. - -I myself have had enough experience along this line to make me very -charitable with those who give accounts of this sort of thing. It is a -question, however, as to just how much of the unseen one can hear and -not be considered insane! While some of the deaf lack the imagination -to carry out this strange experience, others realize that the public -draws no distinct boundary between “oddity” and insanity, and are wary -of repeating all the strange messages which come to them. I think it is -beyond question that primitive people, Indians, isolated mountaineers or -ignorant folk living in lonely places have this subjective side of their -hearing greatly developed. This I believe to be also true of educated -thinkers who are largely influenced by imagination. It seems perfectly -evident to me that some persons of peculiar psychic power may really -develop abilities unknown to those who possess the ordinary five senses. -As I have stated elsewhere in this book, I predict that the study of -this strange power is to develop during the next century, and that the -afflicted are to lead in its investigation. - -Speaking of head noises and imaginary voices, I have an idea that there -are deaf men who took these things too seriously and came to think -that such noises appear to all. This led to a condition which made it -something of a trial to live with them. They have been railroaded off to -some “sanitarium” or asylum, even though they may be entirely sane. I -have met deaf men who realize all this, and therefore, as they express -it, they “will not tell all they know.” I am convinced that for this -reason much that might be valuable to the psychologist is lost to the -world. - -Another strangely interesting point in this connection is that the -deaf hear perfectly in dreams. Even considering dream psychology, -this is to me the most curious phenomenon of the condition. In dreams -I seem to meet my friends just as in waking hours, and I hear their -conversation, even to a whisper. I also hear music, but it is entirely -of the old style which I heard as a young man, before my hearing failed. -Unfortunately (or otherwise) the modern “jazz” and rag-time tunes mean -nothing to me; I have never heard a note of them. In dreams I hear grand -operas and songs of the Civil War and the following decade; these last -are plaintive melodies for the most part, for New England, when I was a -young man, was full of “war orphans,” who largely dictated the music of -the period. But even in sleep, listening as easily as anyone to this old -music or to the voices of friends, the thought comes to me constantly -that I am really deaf, and that all this riot of music and conversation -is abnormal. The psychological explanation that here is a dream struggle -between a great desire and the fact which thwarts it in real life sounds -plausible enough, but the deaf man still must ponder on the profound -mystery of his dream-life. I do not know just how common this dream -music or sleep conversation may be among the deaf. I am told that some -deaf people rarely, if ever, have this experience, while others tell -very remarkable stories of what comes to them in sleep. It must be -understood that I am merely giving my own personal experience, without -trying to record the general habit of the deaf. - -Physicians relate some curious experiences in this line. In one case a -deaf and dumb man, utterly incapable of hearing when awake, was made to -hear music and conversation when asleep. On the other hand, a deaf man -who could hear music and conversation in dreams could not be awakened -even by loud noises close to his ear. He showed a mechanical response -to the vibration by a slight flicker of the eyelids, but protested that -he _heard_ nothing of the racket. In most cases of hysterical deafness -arising from nervous trouble or shell shock during the war the patient -seemed to have _forgotten how to listen_. If he could be made to listen -intently he usually made some gain in hearing. Mind control or the use -of some hypnotic influence is actually helpful in many cases. - -I feel confident that this subjective hearing and these strange voices -are responsible for the reverence or fear with which the Indians and -other ignorant people usually regard the deaf. It is not unlikely that -the famous “voices” which inspired Joan of Arc resulted from a form -of subjective audition. Seers or “mediums” probably have developed -this quality until it gains for them the respect and awe of their -constituents; this would account for their great influence with -primitive peoples. I have even had evidence of a remarkable attitude of -wonderment toward myself on the part of strange people among whom I -have traveled. - -I take it that all this subjective audition arises from thoughts and -emotions filed away by memory somewhere in the mind. Business men run -through their dusty files and find letters or documents that were -put there years ago and forgotten. Here at last they are brought to -recollection, and the memories associated with them start a train of -ideas which may affect the mind like a joyous parade or a funeral -procession. The deaf, lacking the healing or diverting influence of -sound, live nearer to this subconscious stratum of memories and can -more easily call them up; in time of worry or great fatigue they can -more easily come to us. Much of the curious foolishness of intoxicated -persons results from this rising of the subconscious. - -I have no doubt that the original deaf man, far back in history, when -men lived in caves without light or fire, was considered a gifted and -highly favored individual. I think it likely that the voices and strange -noises which come to us through subjective audition were considered by -these primitive people as communications from the strange, mysterious -powers which changed light into darkness, and brought cold, hunger and -storm. Probably the original deaf man was given the warmest corner in -the cave and the first choice of food, in order to propitiate the spirit -which communicated with him. The modern deaf man, however, can take -little pride in the good fortunes of his original representative, for -he is made aware every day that his fellows no longer class him as a -necessity in the world’s economy, unless perchance he is able to lend -them money or cater to their necessities. - -It has been clearly shown that the play of our emotions has a physical -influence on the body. The working of such emotions as fear, anger or -worry is destructive; joy or quiet pleasure helps to build up rather -than to break down. The happier emotions are nearly always influenced or -guided by sound—music, or gentle tones of the voice. Thus we may see -how the deaf, deprived of this healing or harmonizing influence, except -in dreams, may easily become fearsome and morbid. Once a woman loathed -dishwashing with a hatred too bitter for this world. She was obliged to -do it, and she was able to largely overcome her emotion of disgust by -playing selections from the operas on the victrola while at her work. -That music influenced the counter emotions of joy and beauty until they -overcame the loathing. Her hands were in the dishwater, but her mind -was in glory—and then what did her hands matter? We can all remember -similar cases where music has filled the soul with a great joy and has -lifted the body out of menial tasks or humiliation. But music is not for -the deaf; we are shut away from it, and can find no substitute. We must -work out our mental troubles as best we can. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -FACING THE HARD SITUATION - - The Beginnings of Deafness—The Cows in the - Corn—Re-adjustments—The “House of the Deaf”—Spirits - of the Past on Our Side—The Course in Philosophy—The - Reverence of the Ignorant Herder—The Slave and the King. - - -Every deaf man will tell you that for months or years he was able to -convince himself that there was no real danger of losing his hearing. -Then, suddenly made evident by some small happening, Fate stood solidly -in the road pointing a stern finger—and there was no denying the -verdict: “_You are on the road to silence!_” How foolish and dangerous -to fight off the disagreeable thought when most cases of deafness could -be cured or greatly helped if taken in time! It is safe to say that -if the first symptoms of defective hearing were as uncomfortable as a -cinder in the eye, or as painful as an ordinary stomach-ache, the great -majority of cases would be remedied before the affliction could lead its -victims into the silent world. But deafness usually creeps in without -pain or special warning; if it is caused by a disease of the inner ear -there are probably few outward symptoms, and it will not be considered -serious. Then suddenly it will demonstrate its strangle-hold upon life, -and cannot be shaken off; it is like a tiger creeping stealthily through -grass and brush for a spring upon the careless watcher by the campfire. - -I first looked into the dim shadows of the silent country one night in -Colorado. Our people had broken up a piece of raw prairie land, ditched -water to it and planted corn. It was a new crop for the locality, but we -succeeded in getting a good growth for cattle feed. In those days there -were few fences, except the horizon and the sky, and cattle wandered -everywhere, so as the corn developed we took turns guarding it. One -night a small bunch of fat cattle on their way to market was herded -about a mile from our cornfield. Feed was scarce on the range, and these -steers were hungry. We could see them raise their heads and smell the -corn. We knew they would stampede if they could break away. I was on -guard; my duty was to ride my pony up and down on the side of the field -nearest the herd. - -Those who know the plains which roll away from the foothills of Northern -Colorado will remember the brilliant starlit nights. The dry plains -stretch away in rolling waves of brown to the east, while to the west -the mountains lift their snow-caps far up into the sparkle of the -starlight. It is a land of mystery. Any man who has ever lived there has -felt at times that he would give all he possessed to be back there with -the shapes that live in the starlight. Great dark shadows slip over -the plains. You see them slowly moving and you wonder at them. How can -they shift as they do when there are no clouds? That night, far over the -prairie, I could see the fires which the herders had built; two or three -horsemen were slowly circling about the bunched cattle. - -It seemed entirely safe, and at one corner of the field I got off the -pony and let him feed as I walked along the corn. The night was still, -and I could hear nothing, but suddenly my little horse threw up his -head, snorted and pulled at his picket pin. I fancied he sensed some -sneaking coyote, until out of a shadow near the field I saw half a dozen -black forms with white gleaming horns, running for the corn. Part of the -herd had broken away, and as I mounted the snorting pony the sickening -thought flashed in upon me that I could no longer hear them. Before we -could turn back the herd forty or fifty steers had entered the corn. -They went aimlessly, smashing and crashing their way through the stalks, -and with the other riders I went in after them, but I could hardly hear -them. I remember that in order to make sure I held my fingers to my -right ear to shut out sound. In the shadow of the corn I ran directly -into a steer! He was tearing his way along, but I did not know he was -there until my hands touched him. Then for the first time I knew whither -I was bound. Probably there is nothing quite so chilling to the heart, -unless it be the sudden knowledge that some dear friend must soon walk -down the road with death. - -Deaf people who read this will recall incidents connected with the first -real discovery of their affliction; up to that time they have been -able to throw the trouble out of mind with more or less confidence. -They could argue that it was due to a cold, or to some little trouble -that would soon adjust itself; they were slightly annoyed, but soon -forgot it. Then—perhaps they cannot keep up with the conversation; -they seem suddenly to lose the noises which are a part of daily normal -life. Neither their work nor their play can go on without a complete -readjustment of their methods of communicating with others. Suppose -society refuses to do more for them than they have ever done for the -afflicted? Many a man has been made to realize how small a moral balance -he has to draw upon when at last he knows that for the rest of his life -he must depend largely upon the charity or indulgence of those with whom -he associates. For this is really our condition in the silent world. -A person of dominating power may push through life thinking himself a -master, but we must live with the humiliation of realizing that our -friends cannot regard us as normal. It is a staggering blow to the man -or woman of fixed ambition, or of that warm personality which demands -human sympathy and kindly companionship. The old life must be broken up. - -My first thought was to seek “medical advice.” That is what we are -always told to do. The air about the deaf man is usually vibrant with -advice, and frequently the less attention he pays to it the better off -he is. The local doctor in the nearest town was an expert with pills, -powders and blisters, but he went no farther. Like many country doctors -of that time, he was little more than an expert nurse, though if you -had told him this he could have shaken a diploma in your face. I went -to see him one evening after milking. He had a kerosene lamp with a -tin reflector with which he illumed my ears; his report was that the -trouble was caused by wax growing on the ear drum. If I would come in by -daylight he would scrape it off with a small knife. There was nothing to -be alarmed about; I would outgrow it. As a precaution he would advise -me to blister the ears—or that part of the skull immediately behind -them—and—— - -“_My charge is two dollars!_” - -Since then several famous aurists have peered into my nose and ears; -they told me the truth, and charged more than this doctor did for his -wild guess. - -Later I shall describe some of the local treatments to which my poor -ears have been subjected. It would make a volume in itself were I to -tell all, and it would record the experience of most country people -who go down the silent road. Frequently the city man may obtain expert -advice from aurists who fully understand that they are dealing with an -interior nerve or brain disease. Most of us who were “brought up” in -the country fell into the hands of physicians who appeared to think -deafness is what they call a “mechanical disease,” much like the sprain -of the knee or wrist. That country doctor saw only the wax on the ear -drum, when the real trouble was far inside. So we are blistered and -oiled and irrigated—and the real seat of the trouble is not reached. Of -course I should have found some one competent to treat my case. That is -easily said, but the great majority of young men in my day were without -capital, quite incapable of taking advice, and they labored under -the conviction that any public admission of serious disease would be -considered a weakness that was like a stigma. - -I have been singularly unsuccessful in obtaining original impressions -from deaf people in trying to learn from them just what were their -sensations when it became evident, past all argument, that they were -to walk softly through ever-increasing silence. It would seem that -they rarely have great imagination; perhaps silence, and a lack of the -stimulant of sound, destroys that faculty. Psychology estimates that of -all the senses hearing has the greatest influence over the emotions and -the morals. I fancy that the violent effort to readjust life habits to -a new existence bewilders most of us, so that the mind is incapable of -working in exactly the old way. Apparently many of the deaf fall into -a morbid, hopelessly despondent frame of mind, which does not permit -any reasonable and useful research into the habits and landmarks which -characterize a strange country. I know how useless it is to tell the -ordinary deaf man that it is a rare privilege to know and to study the -ideas which special messengers bring to us in the silent world. I know -that what I tell him is true, yet I am forced to agree with him when he -says that he would give it all for the privilege of hearing a hand-organ -playing on a street corner. Still, it is a part of the game for us to -believe that in many ways the deaf are the favored of the Lord. - -As far as my own experience goes, I know that I went about for some time -in a daze. In spite of the verdict of the country doctor I realized -that my hearing was surely failing, and I remember that I began to take -stock of my mental and physical assets for the great game of life that -was opening up before me. When a man does that fairly he will realize -how industry and skill are changing all lines of life. When I was a boy -playing ball we always put the poorest, most awkward player in right -field. That was the jumping-off place in baseball. As the game is now -played right field offers opportunity for the best player of the nine. -After standing off and looking at myself fairly I was forced to conclude -that I was not fitted to enter the silent world with any great hope of -making more than the most ordinary living there. Try it yourself. Cast -up your personal account, giving a fair valuation to the things you -can do really well, and then tell me what sort of a living you could -make for your family if tomorrow you found yourself totally blind or -totally deaf. Like many young men I had received no special training -for any life enterprise; I knew no trade and had no particular “knack” -at tools or machinery. I had attended a country school and one term of -high school, but had never been taught the true foundation principles -of any of my subjects. I had read many books without direction or good -judgment, with no definite end in view. The sum total of my life assets -seemed to be that I was an expert milker and could take care of cattle; -the most promising position for me that of a rather inferior hired -man. Thousands of men have gone through life with a poorer outfit, but -they have had, in addition, the boon of perfect hearing; how great an -advantage this is no one can know until he must face the world without -it. - -Every healthy young man looks forward to the time when he may build -four strong walls about his life. These walls are home, wife, a piece -of land and power. In the flush of youth we feel that if we build this -square and live inside we may laugh at adversity and say in our hearts, -“_The world is mine!_” But this becomes a troubled dream when one comes -to understand that he must crawl through life crippled—with one great -faculty on crutches. - -It is rather curious how at such a time the mind grasps at meanings -hardly considered before, and makes new and rapid applications from -things which formerly seemed of no consequence. I remember picking up -at this time a school reader which one of the children was studying. -My eye fell on the old familiar poem—how many of us have performed a -parrot-like recitation of it in the little old schoolhouse! - - “Oh, solitude! where are the charms - Which sages have seen in thy face? - Better dwell in the midst of alarms - Than reign in this horrible place. - - I am out of humanity’s reach, - I must finish my journey alone; - _Never hear the sweet music of speech,_ - _I start at the sound of my own!_” - -I had read this many times before without getting its full power. Now I -saw that I was drifting with other deaf men out of reach of the “soft -music of speech.” Suppose that I were to end my days on a desert island -of complete silence! The idea haunted me for days, and I thought it out -to the end. At last it came to me that Robinson Crusoe and Alexander -Selkirk were but examples of brave spirits who could not be conquered by -ordinary conditions. Other men have been marooned or swept ashore upon -deserted or unknown islands—men of feeble will, without stern personal -power. They made a struggle to hold on to civilization, but finally -gave up, surrendered to natural forces, and either perished or reverted -to barbarism. They, “heirs of all the ages,” renounced the progress of -their race and went back nearer to the brute. Crusoe and Selkirk were -made of sterner stuff. They were not to be beaten; out of the crudest -materials they made home and companions and retained self-respect and -much of the sweetness of life. Each made his own house in a new world, -fashioned it by sheer force of will and faith. I made up my mind that I -would do likewise. I would build my own house in the silent world and -would make it a house of cheer. - -But who will help the deaf man to build his house? Where can he find the -material? I meet deaf people who complain bitterly because the people -with whom they work and live do not treat them with full understanding -and consideration. Let us be honest, and remember how little _we_ ever -went out of our way to stand by the deaf before our own affliction put -us out of the social game! No doubt we laughed with the others at -the queer blunders of deaf people, or let them see our annoyance when -communication with them became a trouble. The chances are that we will -receive fairer treatment from our associates than we ourselves gave to -the afflicted in our best days. As for me, I vote the world a kindly -place; people treat me reasonably. They are not cruel, but many of them -are busy or selfish, and I fully realize that it is no pleasure for the -average man or woman to attempt communication with the deaf. I do not -blame them for avoiding it. And even when they use us well, from the -very nature of the situation which separates us they can help but little -in the building of these isolated houses of the silent world. - -But I have lived to learn a strange thing. The silent world is peopled -with the ghosts and shadows of men and women who have lived in other -ages. Somehow they seem to feel that they would like to relive their -lives, and repeat their message to humanity; but only the blind, the -deaf and those otherwise afflicted seem to be able to meet them fully. -The great undying souls who have made or modified history and human -thought live in books, pictures and memories, but only in the world of -silence can they give full comfort and power. For we come to know them -so intimately that we learn how each one of them went about his great -work carrying a cross of some kind—and the bond of sympathy to the -afflicted grows stronger. You with light physical crosses perhaps think -that you take full inspiration from Milton. Have you ever thought how -much clearer his message can be to the blind or the deaf? Here, then, is -our help and our hope. Our ears are not dull to the reverberating echoes -of the past, and we can reach back for the best worldly solace—the -experience and advice of those who have fought the good fight, and won. - -It would be nonsense for anyone to claim that he goes through this -preparatory course in philosophy with patience or good temper. He misses -too much. The future is too uncertain. The dread of losing the rest of -his hearing and the thought of the blight which this would mean to his -future will at times drive the deaf man to desperation. At times he is -almost willing to take the advice of Job’s wife— - -“_Dost thou still retain thine integrity? Curse God and die!_” - -And some of us never gain the faith and philosophy which make life in -the silence endurable. Others acquire them slowly by a burning process -which scars, but in the end gives them new strength. I remember two -incidents which influenced me during the first days of my realization of -what was ahead. They are of distinctly opposite character. - -One day the regular herder was sick and I took his place. He was a -“lunger,” a victim of tuberculosis, who had waited too long before -coming to Colorado. At one time I worked with three of these men, and -I came to know how their disease could send them to the top round -of ecstasy and to the lowest level of depression in a single day. I -have seen them get up in the morning dancing at the very joy of life, -planning their “going home” to surprise the old folks with their cure. -Yet by night perhaps they put a handkerchief to the mouth and took it -away stained with blood—and their spirits would fall to earth abruptly. -They are even more distressing companions than inhabitants of the -silence who feel that they have lost life, fortune and future with the -closing of their ears. - -This herder had built up trouble for me without telling me about it. -The deaf man usually runs blindly into that form of trouble every week -of his life; it is a sort of legacy which others leave at his door. -Down the river some two miles lived a ranchman who had seeded wheat and -made a garden on a low flat where the river curved past a bluff. The -herder had carelessly let the cattle get away from him the previous day, -and before he could stop them several cows had trampled through this -garden with all the exasperating nonchalance that a fat and stupid cow -is capable of showing. When a man has lived for a year or so on “sow -belly,” pancakes and potatoes, and when he is naturally inclined to a -profane disposition of language, he knows precisely what to do to the -responsible party. As I came along the river behind the herd, I saw -this ranchman and his wife advancing to meet me. He opened up at long -range, but as I did not know what it was all about, and, moreover, could -not hear him, I kept on riding right up to meet him. My pony had once -belonged to a mule driver noted for his remarks to mules, and the little -horse actually seemed to recognize a master in this excited individual. -This man’s boy afterwards told me that as he advanced his father was -relating in a dozen ways in which he proposed to punish me. Shooting, -it appeared, was too easy. He would meet me man to man and roll me in -the cactus, etc., and worse! Unfortunately, I did not hear at all until -I got close to him, and then his breath had failed somewhat, so that he -was not doing himself full justice. So I rode right up to him and asked -him the most foolish of questions—so he must have thought: - -“_What can I do for you?_” - -He looked at me in amazement. - -“Are you deaf?” - -I told him that I could not hear well. - -“Ain’t you heard a word of what I’ve been handing you?” - -“Hardly a word!” - -“Well, by God, if that don’t beat all! I’ve wasted all them words on a -deaf man!” - -There was genuine sorrow in his voice as he spoke of the loss sustained -by society through my failure to hear. All his anger was gone. - -“Come,” he said. “Get off your horse. The woman’s got dinner ready. Come -in and eat.” - -“But suppose the cows get on your wheat?” - -“Darn the wheat. I don’t make a new friend like you every day. Anyway, -the boy can herd ’em.” - -He put his boy on my pony and we went into the house, where over -coffee, fried pork, riz biscuits and rhubarb sauce we pledged eternal -friendship. His wife was a very happy woman as she explained matters to -me. - -“My man is terrible profane at times. Some men go and get drunk now -and again to relieve their feelings, but my man don’t do that. He just -swears something awful, and when it’s all over he’s all right again. -He was awful to you, but when he found out you didn’t hear him, he -was terrible shocked, and came out of his mad like the man in the -Scriptures. He met his match at last, and I do hope he’ll quit.” - -I have heard that the Indians never torture or mutilate a deaf man. -They seem to think that he is specially protected by the Great Spirit. -Here was a white man with much the same feeling, and I have seen a -like forbearance in other cases. I think the great majority of human -beings seldom or never take deliberate advantage of the hard of hearing; -they may be amused at our blunders or annoyed by our mistakes, but -they hesitate to treat us with the severity they could justly accord -one in full possession of his faculties. Some deaf man could probably -point to bitter personal experiences, but this is my own feeling. The -above encounter also helps to prove what I feel to be a psychological -truth—that most of our fear comes as a result of sounds registered by -the brain. I frankly confess that if I could have heard this big man I -should not have gone within a hundred and fifty feet of him. I shall -discuss this phase of fear later; but I learned early in my affliction -that: - - “Cowards die many times before their deaths; - The valiant never taste of death but once.” - -One January night I was caught out in a Colorado blizzard. Only those -who have felt and seen the icy blasts pour down out of the mountain -canyons and roar over the plains, driving the hard flakes like the -volley from a thousand machine guns, can realize what it means to face -such a blast. The cattle turn from such a wind and drift before it, -half-frozen, heads lowered, moaning with pain. A herd of horses will -bunch together, heads at the center, ready to lash out at the wolves. I -was riding carelessly, rubbing my frosted ears, when the pony stepped -into a prairie-dog hole, fell and threw me into the snow. Then with a -snort, reins dragging, he started at a wild run directly into the storm. -I stood in the snow, in the midst of whirling blackness, with nothing -to guide me except the rapidly filling tracks of the deserting horse. -I knew he was headed for home, and I followed as best I could, feeling -for his tracks in the snow. After wading for a few rods, I saw far ahead -what seemed like a dim star, close to the earth. It grew brighter as I -approached, and sooner than I expected I stumbled upon a small group of -buildings and a sod corral—The star proved to be the light in the house -window. My horse stood with drooping head in front of the door. - -Then the door opened and revealed a sheep herder. He had on a fur coat -and bags were tied about his feet. Out he came with his lantern, and we -put the horse in a shed. The air was filled with a low and plaintive -crying from the sheep in the corral, bunched together where the snow was -drifting in over them. There was nothing we could do for them, so we -made our way to the house. - -It was a tiny one-room affair, built of sods piled up like bricks, -with a roof made of poles covered with sods and wild hay; it boasted -a wooden floor. There were a stove, a table, three chairs and a small -cot. In these days there would be a phonograph and a collection of the -latest music, but this herder’s only constant companions were a dog and -a canary bird. For fuel there was a small pile of cottonwood sticks, a -box of buffalo chips, and a barrel containing bunches of wild hay tied -into knots. Two other men were there, also driven in by the blizzard. I -shall always feel that the mental picture revealed to me by the contrast -between those two men in that lonely hut had the greatest deciding -influence in helping me to fit myself for the life of the silent world. - -They were both white-haired old men, though full of vigor. One I -recognized as the cattle king of Northern Colorado. His cattle were -everywhere; he owned half a town and an army ran at his beck and call, -yet he could barely write his own name. It was said he always signed -his checks “Z,” because he could not be sure of spelling “Zachariah” -properly. He had no poetry or imagination, except what he could drink -out of a jug. In the old days, when the plains were ruled by brute -force, this man was happy, for life becomes tolerable only as we can -equal our friends in manners and education. But how the plains had -changed! Schools, churches, music, culture, were working in with the -towns—the leaven which was to change the soggy biscuit of the old life -to the “riz bread” of the new. That strange, fateful, overmastering -thing we call education was separating the people of the new prairie -towns into classes more distinct than money and material power had -ever been able to create. This old man had railed and cursed at the -change, for a premonition of what was to come had entered his heart, and -something told him that his blunt philosophy of life was all wrong. -In this country a man may climb from poverty up to wealth, or he may -leave wealth to others, but it is not possible for him to climb in the -same way up into education, and he cannot leave these benefits to those -who follow him. The old man had begun to fear that he had climbed the -wrong ladder. There he sat, bitter and hateful, chained to prejudice, -the slave of ignorance. He had no companion to share his narrow prison -except his money—the most useless and irritating single companion that -any man can have for the harvest years. - -His companion was about the same age, an educated man, a “lunger,” -forced to spend the rest of his life in these dry plains. I had seen -him before at the county convention, where there had been talk of -nominating him for county clerk—a much-desired political job. He might -have been nominated but for his own actions. He stood straight up in the -convention and said: - -“Gentlemen, I refuse to let my name go before this convention. I have -been approached by certain people who would compromise my manhood, and -now I would not accept your nomination, even if you offered it.” - -“Made a fool of himself. Had a cinch and threw it away!” - -That was the way they talked in the street afterwards; but I remember -going home that night with this thought dancing through my brain: - -“I wish _I_ could get up and do such things.” - -He would have ranked as a poor man, or at best one of modest competence, -yet in his enforced exile from home and friends he was sustained and -comforted by a mighty host of men and women who came trooping out of -history at his call. - -There they sat in the dimly lighted room—the cattle king and the -scholar, a slave of disease. Their chosen companions were about them, -and these had turned the king into a slave, the slave into a monarch. -For one there were only the spirits of hopeless gloom, grinning, -snarling as though they knew that fate disdains money in exchange for -the things which alone can bring comfort and courage into the shadow -of years. For the other man the dim room was crowded with a goodly -company—the great spirits who live forever in song and story, who -gladly come back from the unknown country at the call of those who have -learned to know them. - -I saw all this, and then I seemed to see myself in the years that were -coming, in the shadow of the impending affliction, a resident of the -silent world. It was evidently to be a choice of masters. I remember -now as though it were yesterday how on that howling night in that dim -sod house I made a desperate vow that I would, if need be, go through -fire and acid before I would end my days or sit alone in the silence -as mentally hopeless and impotent as that “cattle king.” And I had been -ready to say “me, too,” only a short time before to the cowboy who said: - -“If I could round up and brand the money old Zack can, I wouldn’t care -how little else I knew.” - -Take a man with dull hearing, little or no education, no surplus -capital—nothing except health and a dim idea that “education” will -prove the tool to crack the safe wherein is locked opportunity—and what -college will take and train him? I am sure that the colleges to which -my boys have gone would never have given me a chance. But one fine day -in September found me entering the gate of the Michigan Agricultural -College. I do not think I ever passed the examination—I think the -instructors felt somewhat as the Indians do about the deaf. At any rate, -I entered, not knowing what I wanted or what I was fitted for. It might -be interesting to see what sort of an education may be picked up in this -go-as-you-please manner, or what is required to fit a man for a happy -life in the silent world. However needful it may be for a deaf man to -acquire excellence in some definite work, it is most of all important -that he soak in all possible poetry, human sunshine and inspiration -against the time that he must enter prison. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -“A HEART FOR ANY FATE” - - Early Adventures—From Boston to the West—The Milkman - and the Ear Trumpet—The “Milk Cure”—The Office of the - Apple—Cases of Mistaken Identity—The Prohibitionist and - the Missing Uncle George. - - -Until I went to Colorado as a young man to work on a dairy ranch, I did -not fully realize the possibilities of deafness. I made a long jump -to the Rocky Mountains. In those days it was something of a leap in -longitude, culture and occupation. I had been working in a publishing -house, and for several years part of my job had consisted in running -errands for a group of the most distinguished authors ever brought -together in America. Of course, no gentleman can be a hero to his valet, -but a great author can be more than a hero to his errand boy. I went out -once and bought a bag of peanuts for this merry group of serious-minded -men; I suppose I am the only living person who ever ate peanuts with -Longfellow, Lowell, Emerson, Holmes, Whittier and Aldrich. I saw Dr. -Oliver Wendell Holmes put a peanut shell on his thumb and shoot it -across the room at John G. Saxe, as a boy would shoot a marble. To me -the most impressive of all that group of supermen was John Greenleaf -Whittier. He was quite deaf, and the affliction troubled him greatly. -Some of the critics think that his inability to hear accurately accounts -for some of his slips of rhyme. To me the remarkable thing is that in -all Whittier’s writings I can find only one indirect reference to his -severe affliction. This is in the poem entitled “My Birthday”: - - Better than self-indulgent years - The outflung heart of youth, - Than pleasant songs in idle years - The tumult of the truth. - * * * * * * * - - And if the eye must fail of light, - The ear forget to hear, - Make clearer still the Spirit’s sight, - More fine the inward ear! - -There could be no finer advice for the deaf. I think Whittier’s gentle -and placid philosophy (whose only sting was for slavery) was ripened and -mellowed by his narrow life, which was still more closely circumscribed -by the years of silence. But how strangely does compensation spring -from a bitter root, and how surely are its best fruits reserved for -“character”! Denied wide experience and education, deprived of one -important avenue of approach to humanity, nevertheless Whittier’s voice -came from his lonely hills with a rugged power all its own. And the -message still rings true and sweet. He is truly a noble Apostle of the -Silence. - -It was indeed something of a jump from such associations as these to -a milking-stool beside a bad-smelling cow in a dusty barnyard, or out -among the cactus on the dry plains. Then I soon found that I was on the -road to silence. In that dry country those who naturally suffer from -catarrh are sure to have trouble with the head and ears unless they can -have expert treatment in time. Our ranch was just outside a growing -town; the cattle were herded on the open prairie. We milked our cows in -the open air in Summer and in low sheds in Winter; the milk was peddled -from door to door, dipped out of an open can, so that the dust might -increase the amount of milk solids. That was long before these days of -certified milk or sanitary inspection; I doubt if there was a single -milk inspector in the whole of Colorado. Such milk as we handled could -never be sold for human consumption in these critical modern days. -Happily for us, we had never heard of germs or bacteria. We doubtless -consumed thousands of them with every meal—and rather liked the taste! - -Our custom was to drive up in front of a house and ring a large bell -until someone came out with pail or pitcher. The milk was dipped out -of the can and poured into the open dish. On an early morning in cool -weather some of our customers were slow in responding to the bell. At -those times we would ring patiently until the side door would open a -narrow crack and a hand would appear holding a receptacle for the milk. -Whenever I saw those hands extended, I thought of Whittier’s terrible -lines on Daniel Webster: “Walk backward with averted face.” That was the -way we were expected to approach the door. - -On one occasion the milkman had forgotten his glasses, and he was -somewhat near-sighted. He rang his bell before one house for several -minutes with no visible response. Finally he saw the front door open, -and what seemed to him a tin bucket was thrust through the opening. -Being somewhat familiar with the vagaries of lazy housewives, he filled -a quart measure with milk and backed up to the door. He was careful, for -hardly ten minutes before a lady holding out a hand in much the same way -had plainly cautioned him: - -“Walk straight now, and if you bat an eye at this door I’ll call my -husband!” - -In a community where women were a minority such a command was emphatic, -so the milkman proceeded with care and circumspection. Peering about -uncertainly, he carefully poured the milk into what he supposed was a -milkpail. There was a tremendous commotion within, for quite innocently -he had sent a forcible message into the world of silence. It later -appeared that the woman of the house was ill and had been greatly -disturbed by the bell, so Aunt Sarah had volunteered to end the noise. -But Aunt Sarah, though a woman of large and very superior intentions, -was not an expert on noises. She was very deaf, and made use of one of -the old-fashioned trumpets with a mouthpiece as large as a good-sized -funnel. She had not been able to fully complete her toilet, so she did -not throw the door wide open; but in order to hear what the milkman -had to say for himself, she made an opening just wide enough to thrust -out the mouthpiece of her trumpet. The man poured the milk into -it—literally giving Aunt Sarah “an earful.” I have heard of several -cases where a great nervous shock or a long continuance of trouble has -suddenly destroyed the hearing. I wish I might say that Aunt Sarah’s -hearing was restored or improved by this milk treatment; the dispenser -of the liquid declares that it had a striking effect upon her voice, -but that she was quite unable to appreciate his explanation. Were I to -repeat some of her remarks, I should add to the force of this narrative, -but hardly to its dignity. - -The town of Greeley was organized as a temperance community. It was -recorded in every deed or lease that the title was to be forfeited at -any time that liquor was sold on the premises, and this regulation was -absolutely enforced, for the settlers were a band of earnest “cranks,” -who saw to it that the wheels went ’round. The result was that this -town contained more cases of near-delirium tremens than any other place -of equal size in the State. It came to be a favorite plan for those -who had been elsewhere on a spree to come to Greeley to sober up. They -could get no liquor except what they brought, and most of that was taken -away from them. The first time I drove the milk wagon I encountered -one of these “patients.” At a lonely place on the outskirts of town -a disreputable character suddenly started up from the roadside and -caught the horse’s bridle with his left hand, meanwhile pointing a long -forefinger at me. He was red-eyed, unshaven and trembly, and I could -not hear a word he said. I took it to be “Money or your life”—and who -ever knew a milkman to have money? It turned out that he was demanding -a quart of new milk with which to help float over a new leaf. I had -nothing in which to serve the milk except the quart measure, but I -filled that and handed it over. The man sat down on the grass and slowly -drank his “medicine”; then I washed the measure in an irrigating ditch -and was prepared for the next customer. - -This man told me that he was making a desperate effort to recover from -a protracted spree, and it was the general belief that a diet of warm -milk was the best treatment. It came to be a common thing for us to meet -these haggard, wild-eyed sufferers, and help them to the milk cure. I -have seldom heard of the treatment elsewhere. It was there considered -a standard remedy, though I have never been able to understand the -psychology or the physiology of it. A friend of mine who is quite deaf -tells me of another experience with a new cure for the drink habit. - -He took his vacation one Summer on a steamer running from Buffalo up -the Great Lakes. Among other supplies he carried a peck of good apples. -I cannot say that apples are to be recommended as a cure for deafness, -but to many of us they are better than tobacco for companionship. The -first day out, while waiting for his fellow-passengers to realize that a -deaf man was not likely to eat them up or convey some terrible disease, -my friend took two mellow Baldwins, found a shady place on the forward -deck, and prepared for a lazy lunch. He was about to bite into the first -of his fruit when an excited man hurried up from below and began talking -eagerly. The deaf man could not imagine what it was all about, and -while he was trying to explain the newcomer snatched the apple out of -his hand and buried his teeth far into it. My friend was reminded of a -wild animal half-crazed for food. At this moment an anxious-faced woman -appeared. The man turned to her, and with his mouth well filled shouted: - -“Mary, you’ll find it in the false bottom of my bag. Get rid of it at -once.” - -The woman disappeared on the run, while the man finished the first -apple and held out his hand for the other. Presently she returned with -two bottles of whiskey, and, going to the side of the steamer, she -deliberately threw them overboard. Then, while her husband kept at the -apples, she made the deaf man understand. - -It appeared that her man was a hard drinker, though he was trying with -all his poor enfeebled will to free himself from the slavery. He had -tried many “cures,” but the only way to overcome the desire for whiskey -was to eat sour apples when the craving became too strong. It did not -always work, but frequently this remedy was successful. This trip was a -vacation for him and his wife, and just before the boat had started some -of his companions had brought him two bottles of whiskey, which he had -hidden in the bottom of his bag, and he was waiting for an opportunity -to “enjoy life.” All the morning he had been prowling about the boat -trying to fight off the craving. Finally down in the hold he had come -upon what he called a “funeral outfit.” There was a coffin—but let him -tell it. - -“That coffin was going as freight to the last resting-place, and it -made me realize that I was going by express to the same place. Beside -it stood an undertaker—one of those melancholy individuals with black -burnsides and a long chin. He looked at me, and I thought he was saying: - -‘Come on, old man! This is what rum is bringing you to. Give me the -job.’” - -“I knew right there that I must decide between that coffin and a barrel -of apples.” - -There came upon him a fierce craving to brace his nerves with some of -the whiskey in his bag. He ran through the ship praying as fervently -as a drowning man for some saving straw. He saw the deaf man with the -Baldwin apple, and he ran to the fruit like a hunted animal—eager to -bite into it and to ease his heated tongue against its sour juice. - -Since I first heard the story I have investigated many cases, and have -never found a heavy drinker who was at the same time a large consumer -of raw apples. And I have run upon several cases where sour apples -eaten freely have safely tided men past the desire to drink. Surely a -prohibition country must be one flowing with milk and apples! - -We founded the Apple Consumers’ League largely on that theory. Something -over twenty-five years ago I was lunching at a New York restaurant. -There was a bumper apple crop that year, and a poor sale for it. Looking -over the bill of fare, I found oranges, prunes and bananas, and an idea -struck me. - -“Bring me a baked apple.” - -“We ain’t got none.” - -“What, no baked apples? I thought this was an American place.” - -“Sorry, boss, but we ain’t got none.” - -By this time everyone within fifty feet was listening. Soon came an -anxious-looking man, rubbing his hands and trying to smile. - -“Nothing the matter with the food, I hope.” - -I could not hear much that he said, and it did not matter. I did my best -to deliver a public lecture on the apple, and all around me people were -nodding as if to say: - -“I’d order one if I could get it.” - -The manager was impressed, and that night for supper he had “Baked Apple -with Cream” written into his card in red ink. Later he came to me and -asked names of varieties and where they could be found. As a result -of this experiment a few of us founded the “American Apple Consumers’ -League.” We pledged ourselves to call for apple in some form whenever we -sat at any public table. Our declaration was cast in rhyme: - - Apple, apple, call for apple - Everywhere you go. - Closely scan the bill of fare, - And if apple is not there - Call the landlord down with care! - He will come with smirking manner - Offering the soft banana, - Or the orange—be not shaken - In the job you’ve undertaken. - Call for apple! Call for apple! - With the problem closely grapple. - -Some commercial travelers took it up, and soon nearly every restaurant -in the country began providing baked apple. There was one result which -we did not anticipate. The finer apples do not “stand up” well on -baking; they are delicious, but they flatten to a jelly. The public -demands something that stands up like an apple in shape. This has -created a great demand for the coarse-fleshed fruit of inferior quality, -which will stand up well in the pan. - -We came upon another good office of the apple in this campaign. It is -an ideal toothbrush. We found that the bacteria which cause pyorrhea -are weakened by the mild acid, thus a wash of vinegar and water is an -excellent remedy. This has been verified by dentists, and a mellow, sour -apple eaten raw is likewise helpful. Using a sour apple as a toothbrush -ought to be a popular method of scrubbing the teeth. - -I have perhaps spent unnecessary time over these matters, but in my -study of men who live in the silent world I have found a number who -consider the deaf man justified in finding solace in drink. It is a most -foolish prescription, but I fear the practice is all too common. The -deaf are subject to periods of deep depression, and the argument is that -the moderate use of alcohol will brighten their lives. I can think of -nothing more pitiful or ridiculous than an intoxicated deaf man. Alcohol -is the worst possible companion for the silence. There, if anywhere, -the faithless and deceitful comrades of life lead only to darkness and -misery. The deaf man needs every moral brace that life can give him; -no other character who tries to find a place and to adjust himself to -his fellow-men has greater need of the discipline which self-denial -alone can give. Only the finer and more substantial hopes are worth -considering when music no longer greets us and well-loved voices fade -away or lose all their tenderness, when they become harsh and discordant -sounds. Bottled sunshine, taken from coal or the electric wire, may be a -fair substitute for daylight, but bottled happiness will finally bring -nothing but misery to the deaf. - -And yet you never can tell how people will size you up. There was a -deaf man who became greatly interested in prohibition. He could not -even drink coffee as a stimulant. He was to be chairman of the State -prohibition convention, and so started on a night train for the meeting. -Just before retiring he read over his speech, and then crawled into his -berth very well satisfied with himself. About midnight he was awakened -by a heavy hand on his shoulder. You must remember that it is a great -shock for the deaf to be rudely started from sleep in this way; it is -then impossible for them to grasp any new situation quickly. In the -dim light of the Pullman our deaf man saw the figure of a man who was -fumbling about in his suitcase. When he saw that he had awakened the -sleeper, this intruder left the case, opened the curtains and held out -his hand with some object presented straight at the deaf man’s head. As -he was evidently asking some question, the deaf man imagined that he was -a train robber presenting a pistol with a “Hands up,” “Money or your -life,” or some such appropriate remark. The prohibition orator thrust up -his hands and said: - -“I’m deaf. Take it all!” - -The “train robber” talked for a while and then lowered his hand, took -the deaf man by the arm and led him to the smoking-room. There the -“robber” turned out to be the colored porter, with no pistol, but a -glass bottle in his hand. Finally, he slowly and laboriously wrote out -the following: - -“_Man in lower four sick. Has got to have brandy. Says you look like a -sport and probably have it on you. Can you fill this bottle?_” - -They had taken our prohibition friend for the other sort of a -“rum-punisher.” Such cases of mistaken identity are quite common to the -deaf, and some of them are never fully untangled. - -Once when I entered a crowded dining-room in New York City a young woman -jumped up from a table and greeted me with every evidence of affection. -I had never seen her before, and was greatly embarrassed, especially as -I could not hear a word she said. I tried to explain, but she continued -talking rapidly, holding me by the arm. Of all the people present, no -one thought of coming to my aid except the colored waiter. He was the -good Samaritan who talked to the lady and wrote out her story for me on -the back of his order card. She thought I was her Uncle George, who had -agreed to meet her there. She insisted that I was playing a practical -joke in pretending that I was only a plain and somewhat bewildered deaf -man. Finally she obtained a side view of my face which convinced her of -her mistake, and then, greatly startled by the publicity she had caused, -she hurried away. To this day I do not know who “Uncle George” was or if -he ever found his niece. My colored interpreter, however, is still on -duty, and frequently writes out for me the conversations of people near -by. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -MEMORIES OF EARLY LIFE - - Reflection versus Conversation—Old Memories—The Lecture - and the Whipping—Education and the Stick—Ridicule - Unbearable to the Deaf—The Office Fight—The Dangers of - Bluffing. - - -The deaf man may not excel in conversation, but he is usually strong on -reflection. He has plenty of time, for his life is roughly divided into -three chief periods, working, sleeping and thinking. It may safely be -said that the character and temper of the deaf are determined rather by -their thought than by their work. The greater part of their thinking -is a form of mental analysis. They like to go back to the beginning of -things. That is why the deaf man is such a remarkably superior specimen -of a “grouch” when he puts himself to the task of analyzing his own -troubles. If you could read the thoughts of the deaf as they sit by -themselves without book or work you would find that they are searching -the past to find something which may be compared to their present -experience. - -It is a curious mental sensation, probably far different from anything -that comes to you in your world of sound, unless it comes in moments of -depression, or when you are deeply stirred by old memories. Sometimes -in the evening we become tired of reading and we cannot join in the -music or chatter about us; it is too dark to work outdoors, and we have -accomplished enough for the day. So we amuse ourselves by trying to go -back to the beginnings of things. When did I first fall in love with the -portly lady who sits at the other side of the fire? How much smaller was -she then? When did I find the first gray hair? When did I first discover -that my eyes had failed so that I could not read signs across the way? -When did I begin to discover something of the real life difference -between work and play? We think these things out to no particular -advantage, except that perhaps they may form a text for a moral lecture -to our young people. And now I find that my children very properly pay -little attention to my lectures. I have stopped delivering them since -going back to the original dissertation given for my benefit. - -The old gentleman who brought me up was much addicted to the lecture -cure for youthful depravity. He would seat me in the corner on a little -cricket, and with his long forefinger well extended would depict the -sin and laziness of “this young generation” whenever I forgot to water -the horses or to feed the hens. I can see him now, with his spectacles -pushed up to the top of his bald head, and that thick finger projected -at me as he recounted the hardships of his own boyhood, and his own -faithful and unfailing service. What a remarkable boy he must have -been! Then his wife, who was very deaf, and, more unfortunately, very -inquisitive, would appear at the door and shout: “What say?” Her husband -would patiently gather his lungs full of air, make a trumpet of his -hands and roar in her ear: - -“I’m telling the boy about the terrible sin and danger of this young -generation. What kind of a world will it be, I ask you, when such boys -as that grow up to control things? It will be another Babylon, and I -don’t want to live to see it.” - -And his wife, getting only a word here and there, would quote some -appropriate passage from Isaiah and go back to her work well satisfied -that she had done her duty. - -“Behold, I and the children whom the Lord has given me are for signs -and for wonders in Israel:” And now it seems to me, as I sit here, a -gray-haired man of the silent world, that I have seen many of the signs -and wonders, though I did not recognize them as they passed by. That -“sinful young generation” has grown up, and men of my age may be said -to control the nation. It seems to me that it is a good world after -all, and I believe that my mischief-making children will grow up into a -steadily developing generation which will make it better yet. For here -in the silent world we learn to smile at youthful antics, and to have -great charity for them. - -The earliest incident of my childhood that I can remember is the -time my father pretended to give us a whipping. My older brother and -I had been sent to bed in disgrace, to wait for father to come home -and administer punishment. I can just recall that we were up in a New -England attic, in the bed at the head of the stairs, surrounded by a -collection of trunks, boxes and old rubbish which a thrifty housewife -always puts “upstairs.” She is too economical to throw them away, and -too neat to have them in sight downstairs. I think the town bell was -faintly ringing, as it always did at six o’clock, and there was a sound -like a gentle tapping as the water lapped at the wharf in high tide. -I can just dimly remember the sunshine streaming in through the dusty -window as we lay there in bed. The dust danced and floated in it like -a flock of tiny flies. Since then I have read much of history. There -have been many occasions when brave souls have waited for death or an -ominous sentence. These scenes haunt the deaf; we cannot talk and laugh -them away as others do. We must put down our book and go back in memory, -seeking something in our own lives which may even remotely resemble -what we have read. That is part of the penalty which must come with the -silence. I remember reading a powerful description of Louis XVI on the -night before his execution. A well-meaning, easy-going man, he had never -been able to realize the serious side of life until it suddenly peered -in through his window with the hideous face of Revolution. Then, face -to face with death, he rose to that dignity “which doth become a king.” -As I read that passage I put my book down, and, ridiculously enough, -there flashed into my mind the picture of these two little boys waiting -for the coming of father with his stick. We had determined that we would -not cry, no matter how hard he hit us. That was our nearest approach to -“dignity.” - -I think that even then my hearing was a little defective. I heard my -father come in below, and mother’s clear voice was certainly intended -for our hearing. - -“Now, Joseph, you go right up and whip those boys! They would not mind -me, and _you must do it_.” - -All through my life I have somehow managed to hear the unpleasant -remarks or thorns of life. We deaf usually miss the bouquets. Poor -father! The Civil War was raging, and he had volunteered. My young -people seem to think that the Civil War was a mere skirmish beside the -great World War just ended. Perhaps so, if we count only money and men, -yet our part in this recent conflict was but a plaything in intense -living, in sentiment, and breaking up of family life, as compared with -the war of the sixties. Father was to leave home for the front in less -than a week. He was captain of the local company, and should probably -have been stronger in family discipline. But his heart was tender. He -did not want to whip his boys, and he protested, as many a man has -done. I could not hear what he said, but I knew from the expression on -my brother’s face that he was protesting. Tonight, after these long and -toilsome years have boiled out much of ambition and the desire to know -the great things of life, I wish most keenly that I could have heard -what my father said. - -But mother insisted, as good women do, and finally we heard the big man -slowly mounting the stairs. I can see him now as he stood framed in the -doorway with the bright splinter of sunshine bathing him in light; a -tall man with a strong, kindly face and a thick black beard. It is the -only real memory I have of my father, for he did not come back from the -war alive. Long, long years after, I sat at a great banquet next to a -famous Senator, who had seen much of life. I told him that I have only -this memory of my father, but that I had finally found a man who had -served in the same regiment with him, slept in the same tent, who had -known him intimately as a man. - -“Now,” I asked, “shall I hunt up that man and have him tell me in his -own way just what kind of a man my father was?” - -Quickly the answer came from this hardened old diplomat: - -“Keep away from him! Let him alone! Never go near him! Burn his letters -without reading them. You now have an ideal of your father. This man -knows him as just a plain, common man, probably with most of the faults -of humanity. Let him alone! If at your age God has permitted you to -retain an ideal of any human being, keep it pure. Take no chances of -having it blackened!” - -I took his advice, and have always been glad that I did so. It has been -my experience that deaf men are able to hold their ideals longer than -those who can hear; probably this is another part of our compensation. I -would advise every man of the silent world to build up a hobby and gain -an ideal. One will serve to keep hand and brain busy, the other helps to -keep the soul clean. I heard one deaf man say that clean ideals mark the -difference between a “grouch” and a gentleman. - -My father came slowly to the bed where we lay, tuning his voice as -nearly to a growl as the nerves between the vocal chords and the -heart-strings would permit. - -“I’ll attend to your case, young men! I’ll teach you to mind your -mother!” - -Then he began to strike the pillow with his hand, growling as before. - -“_Now_, will you mind your mother when she speaks to you?” - -It was one of those cases of thought suggestion which I have mentioned. -My brother and I understood. No one can prove that father told us to -cry and help him play his part. Like the horses in the pasture, we -understood. We screamed lustily as father spanked the pillow, though we -had fully agreed between us that we would endure it all without a sound. -In fact, we carried out our part so well that mother, listening below to -see that father did not shirk his duty, finally came running upstairs to -defend her brood. - -“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Joseph, to hurt those little -boys so! They did nothing so very bad!” And there was a great loving -time, with mother holding us close and making little crooning sounds as -she swayed back and forth with us. Father stood by, trying to act the -part of stern parent, with indifferent success. And then he carried us -downstairs, a reunited family, where we boys each had a doughnut with -our bread and milk. - -That was nearly sixty years ago, and I have been forced to stand up and -take punishment for many sins and omissions. If father had lived, it -is not likely that we would have discussed this little deception, but -it still would have been a beautiful memory. My wife, who was once a -school teacher, strong in discipline, says it was a great mistake on -father’s part. Perhaps I show this in defects of character. He should -have taken a shingle to us, she says. Perhaps so; yet after all these -years (and what test can compare with time?) I am glad he acted as he -did. If I were starting on his long journey, I should be likely to treat -my children in the same way. - -I have often been asked if deaf people of middle-age can safely be -entrusted with the bringing up of a little child. That depends—both on -the grown people and the child. Generally speaking, I should not advise -it. Deaf people are likely to be obstinate in their opinions, rather -narrow in thought, and slow to understand that the habits and tendencies -of society grow like a tree. Many of them have made a brilliant success -in certain lines of work, but they are apt to be narrow as a board -outside of their limited range. In rearing a child it is a great -disadvantage not to be able to hear its little whispered confidences; -if the little one has no reliable confidant it will grow up hard and -unsympathetic, or it will go with its confidences to the wrong person. I -know deaf people who regret bitterly that they can only give financial -aid and reasonable example to their children, while they long to enter -into that part of child life which can only be reached through sound. - -Looking back over life, I become convinced that my hearing was always -a little dull; probably the trouble started in a case of scarlet fever -when I was a baby, and in those days no one thought of examining or -treating the ears of a child. Also, I think one of my teachers helped to -start me along the road to silence. Those were the days when “corporal -punishment” was not only permitted, but was encouraged. Most of us -were brought up on the “Scriptures and a stick,” and each teacher -seemed to select some special portion of the human anatomy as the most -susceptible part through which to make her authority felt. Some of the -educational methods of those days were effective even if they were -violent. I have had the teacher point a long stick at me and issue the -order: - -“Spell incomprehensibility!” - -I would stumble on as far as “ability” and then fall down completely. In -these days my children are led gently over the bad place in the road, -but then we took it at a jump. The teacher would lay that long stick -three times over your back, and while the dust was rising from your -jacket would make another demand. - -“_Now_ spell it!” - -And I must confess that we were then usually able to do so. This -particular teacher chose the ear for her point of attack; she would -steal up behind a whisperer or a loiterer and strike him over the ears -with a large book, like a geography. Or she would upon occasion pull -some special culprit out to the front of the school by the lobe of the -ear. Such things are no longer permitted in the public schools, yet -I frequently see people in sudden anger slap or “box” their children -on the side of the face or on the ears. It is a cruel and degrading -punishment, and, remembering my own experience, I always feel like -striking those who are guilty of it squarely in their own faces with all -my power. - -What annoys the deaf man most is the suggestion that he is being used -as the butt for ridicule. We can stand abuse or open attack with more -or less serenity, but it is gall and wormwood to feel that there are -those who can make sport of our serious affliction. I once worked on a -newspaper where one of the editors was absolutely deaf, unable to hear -his own voice. He was a big man, naturally good-natured and reasonably -cheerful. The foreman of the composing-room was a man of medium size, -and a great “bluffer.” Sometimes he would try to impress strangers in -the office by using the big deaf man as a chopping block for courage. -He would get out of sight behind, shake his fist over the poor fellow’s -head and roar out his challenge: - -“You big coward; for five cents I’d lift you out of that chair and mop -up the floor with you. Step out in the street and I’ll knock your block -off!” - -It was very cheap stuff, though quite effective. The deaf man, of -course, didn’t hear a word of it, but kept on with his work, and many -visitors considered the foreman courageous for calling down a much -larger man. But one day the editor chanced to see the reflection of that -fist in his glasses. He looked up suddenly and caught the foreman right -in the act. The deaf think quickly and accurately in a crisis, and in -an instant this man was on his feet, pulling off his coat. He did not -know what it was all about, but here was a man taking advantage of his -affliction. There is something more than impressive about the wrath of -the deaf, and the foreman ran behind a table, took a piece of paper and -wrote the following: - -“I cannot fight. I promised a Christian mother that I would never strike -a cripple, or a deaf or a blind man!” - -The deaf man read the communication and made but one remark: - -“I am under no such obligation!” - -The way he polished off his tormentor was a joy to us all. He could not -hear the foreman yell “Enough!” and we did not notify him until the job -was perfectly done. - -However, the deaf man will be wise if he keeps out of quarrels. When -they arise suddenly he cannot tell which side he ought to be on. I have -taken part vigorously in several sudden and violent battles only to find -when it was all over that I had been doing valiant work—on the wrong -side! Likewise, “bluffing” is taboo. Few men can ever escape with even -the wreckage of a “bluff” unless it is safely mounted on skids of sound. -We all learn these things by hard experience before we discover the -limitations of the silent life. - -Some years ago I attended a banquet where a great company of lions -appeared to have gathered to feed and to listen to a few roars after -the meal. The man next to me would have made a splendid “announcer” -for a circus. Here, he told me, was a famous statesman; that man over -there might have been President; this man had enough money to buy a -European state; the man helping himself to a double portion of terrapin -was a poet; the big man nibbling his bit of cheese was a well-known -historian. He was a man of great ability, though unfortunately somewhat -deaf, which fact naturally interested me so much that I kept an eye on -the historian. - -When the toastmaster began his “We have with us tonight,” it seemed as -though every speaker felt that he carried a ticket to a front seat in -the Hall of Fame, and in an evil hour I decided to attempt a little -“bluff.” I rose for a few remarks on agriculture. Pedigree or good -stock is essential to good farming, so it was easy to refer to “my -ancestor, Lord Collingwood.” I had read somewhere that Lord Collingwood -was present at the Battle of Bunker Hill as a petty officer on one of -the English warships. It was quite easy to refer to the fact that I had -one ancestor in that battle wearing a red coat and another behind the -American breastworks wearing overalls! What would have happened to me if -both had been killed? It was what we call very cheap stuff—too cheap -for a deaf man to handle. It was a very silly thing to do, but for the -moment it seemed to impress the audience. Out of the corner of my eye I -saw the historian with his hand at his ear whisper to his companion and -then make notes on a sheet of paper. - -“Ah,” I thought with gratification, “I have impressed the great -historian!” And I sat down thinking very well of myself. But the eminent -historian folded his paper and sent it to me by a waiter. This is what I -read: - -“_Are you sure of your pedigree? The facts seem to be that Lord -Collingwood had only two children, both daughters. I think neither of -them ever married._” - -Then and there I lost interest in my ancestors. I have no further desire -to trace back my pedigree, especially in the presence of well-read -historians. And I am cured of “bluffing.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -EXPERIMENTING WITH THE DEAF MAN - - Deafness Cures—We Forget to Listen—Science and - Scent—Lip-Reading—Judging Character. - - -We all have our pet aversions, and with deaf people the popular -candidate for this position is the man who is positive that he can cure -the disease. The “hope-deferred” period comes to most of us, and for a -time we try every possible remedy, only to find that the affliction is -still marching steadily upon us. Then it is the part of wisdom to give -up the experimenting and to dig in as a line of defense all the humor -and philosophy we can muster. It is not so much resignation to our fate -as it is determination to make that fate luminous with hope and good -cheer. Miraculous cures which restore the wasted organs of the body may -now and then be possible, but they are not probable, while it is certain -that too long a period of hope-deferred will cause a sickness of the -soul as well as of the heart. - -Many cannot agree with this philosophy. I think they add to the -terror and trouble of their lives by submitting their poor bodies to -a continuous series of experiments. There was a prominent merchant in -New York, blind, with a disease which the best physicians declared -incurable. He made a standing offer of a quarter of a million to -anyone who would restore his sight. His theory was that this constant -experimenting and treatment kept hope and faith alive. My own -experience with the deaf does not point that way. I truly consider it -wiser to devote the spirit which may be wasted in false expectation to -the task of making the silent land endurable. I know of a woman for -whom a tuberculosis expert prescribed a dry, hilly country, a simple -diet and a cheerful mode of life, involving little or no medicine. She -settled in the country, and some local “quack” told her that a friend -had been cured by taking whiskey in which pine chips had been soaked. -This intelligent woman, considering her doctor’s treatment too mild, -was actually ready to follow this method. As a boy I lived with people -whose lives were long experiments with deafness cures. At that time the -country was full of unlicensed practitioners, who went about promising -to cure every possible disease, and our folks tried them all, just as -they sampled every new brand of patent medicine. Even now, many deaf -men, and especially those who live in the country or small towns, must -expect to be regarded as human experiment stations. We can all relate -remarkable experiences with the various “cures” which have been tried -out on us. From skunk oil to chiropractic and back again, we know every -way station. Few persons appear to aspire to curing blindness, but in -every community in which I have ever lived were several individuals who -were certain that they could successfully handle diseases of the ear. -I have seen them stand impatient, their fingers fairly itching to get -hold of me. Usually their “knowledge” of the ear is merely that they -recognize it as the organ of hearing, yet they are quite ready to rush -in where aurists hesitate to enter. Most of the quack remedies may be -harmless, yet sometimes these practitioners have done great injury -where relief might have been obtained through proper care. I think -several of them injured me, and I should feel like taking a shotgun -to one of these amateur aurists were I to find him operating on one -of my children. I wish I knew why the community deaf man of a country -neighborhood is considered so fair a subject for experimentation. -Probably in some cases it is really a nuisance to communicate with him, -and again he may be the object of genuine sympathy, perhaps with an -admixture of curiosity. I have run the whole gauntlet, and should need -an entire book to report all the remedies suggested or actually tried -on me. - -Perhaps the most popular “cure” is skunk oil. This theory appears to -be that since the skunk has a very acute sense of hearing, he can -communicate this faculty to a human, through his oil. Personally, I -believe the skunk to be a lazy, stupid beast, with hearing below normal; -but, at any rate, we are earnestly told that oil from a skunk, if -dropped into the ears, will surely improve their hearing. No man has -ever given this remedy a fairer trial than I have done. Later an aurist -diagnosed my case as a disorder of the interior ear which was rather -encouraged than cured by the application of the oil. Another “remedy,” -based on a similar principle, is an exclusive diet of pork. Here the -excellent ears of the pig are to be transmitted to the consumer! I -have been several times presented with the argument that deafness is -more prevalent among the Jews and other non-pork eaters than among any -other class. Also, they say that the disease of deafness was rarely -known among the earlier pioneers, who lived mostly on “hog and hominy.” -Possibly this was due to the fact that corn grows on “ears.” At any -rate, here are fair samples of the arguments which are submitted to -the unfortunate deaf. One Winter, when I taught school and “boarded -round,” I experienced a full course of treatments based on this remedy. -It was started by the school trustee, an economical soul, who sold his -butter and fed his family on pork fat. In those days we were innocent -of bacteria or vitamines, and this clever adaptation of a deafness cure -helped the trustee to avoid the local odium which would naturally center -upon a householder who fed the teacher on lard. And with one accord the -neighbors joined in the good work. I moved to a new family each week, -and as the news of the projected treatment spread, each farmer killed a -hog just before my arrival. I ate fresh pork every day for three months. -Ungratefully enough, I did not recover my hearing, but the treatment -surely roused the sporting instinct in that neighborhood. Near the close -of the term this comment was reported to me: - -“No, it ain’t done him no good—he can’t scarcely hear it thunder; but -I’ll bet fifty dollars he’s raised bristles on his back.” - -At another time one of these experimenters took me up into the church -belfry, ostensibly to “see the country.” As I stood beside the bell, -he suddenly struck it a hard blow with a hammer, on the theory that -this sudden and violent noise would “break up the wax in my ear” and -“frighten the muscle into a new grip”—whatever that may mean. He -protested that his grandfather had been cured in this way. This same -investigator once tried a very radical treatment on his deaf hired man. -It was Sunday afternoon, and the man had sought surcease from sorrow in -a nap in the haymow. The boss knew how to handle bees, so he selected -one from his hives, caught it safely by its wings, and, climbing the -haymow, he dropped the buzzing creature into the ear of the sleeping -hired man. He was working on a supposition that the man had _forgotten -how to listen_, and that the buzzing of the bee, and possibly his sting, -would shock him into remembering. But the victim merely started up from -sleep like an insane man, and rushed screaming to the brook, where he -ducked his head vigorously under water and drowned the bee. For long -weeks the poor fellow feared to go to sleep unless his ears were stuffed -full of cotton. - -I asked the boss how he ever came to devise such a treatment for -deafness. He explained that some years before he had had a sick cow, who -had “lost her courage.” She positively refused to stand up, though she -might easily have done so. I have also had cows act this way; they seem -suddenly to have become “infirm of purpose,” and will die before they -will exert themselves. A horse under similar circumstances will finally -struggle to regain its feet, but the cow completely loses her nerve and -will not try. I have had such a cow lifted off the ground by a rope and -pulley, and yet refuse to use her legs. This farmer told me that he -called in a local “horse doctor,” who suddenly threw a good-sized dog on -the cow’s back. The dog barked and scratched, and under the influence -of sudden fear the cow scrambled to her feet and instantly regained the -power to walk. This farmer really was wiser than he knew, for there -are some cases of deafness, such as those caused by shell shock, which -consist in the loss of the ability to listen. Of course, our use of -instruments or lip-reading dulls the art of listening intently, in any -case, and it finally passes completely out of use. In some instances, -where the actual ear is unimpaired, this faculty may be shocked back -into use. - -I once had an old lady solemnly assure me that a plaster made from the -lard of a white sow and the wool from the left ear of a black sheep -would surely cure any case of deafness. Query: Could the black sheep of -a family effect a simpler cure by rubbing on the lard and brushing his -hair down over it? - -These are but samples of the dozens of ridiculous “cures” which have -been suggested to me, or even put into operation. I can vouch for the -comparative virtues of skunk oil, vibration, or the inflation of the -Eustachian tubes at the hands of a skilled aurist. And, after all, I -feel that in many cases the doom is sure, and that the best alleviation -for the future silent days is the store of accumulated philosophy and -sunshine. It seems to me that the surgery and general treatment of the -ears has not kept pace with the successful handling of diseases of other -organs. Some real “cure” may be developed, but hardly in my day. I -consider the study of lip-reading the most useful course for the deaf, -and we may at least prepare for the next generation by having the ears -of our children watched as carefully as we watch their teeth, their -eyes, their hands and feet. - -For lip-reading one must have good eyes and a quick brain. Some of -us deaf become proficient in the use of the science, and I think its -practice will extend and become far more general. I have some little -knowledge of it, though I have not made it a prolonged study. It -would be difficult for me to explain exactly why I have not studied -the science more carefully. For many years my aurist told me that my -great hope for holding such hearing as I had was to force myself to -listen, even though I could get little of conversation. He thought that -the constant use of instruments or of lip-reading would weaken and -finally destroy my limited natural hearing, so that in time I should -forget how to listen and hear. This advice was, no doubt, good, though -if I were to go through life again I should make a thorough study of -lip-reading, anyway. In fact, I once started seriously enough, but -was switched away by a curious and disheartening discovery. I began -practicing on the train, studying intently the faces of men and women, -trying to take their words from their lips. Next to the ability to read -thought comes for interest and excitement the power of interpreting -ordinary conversation when the speaker has no thought of betraying his -communications to outsiders. I succeeded only too well with one man. I -had always supposed him to be a person of high character, and had been -wont to envy the recipients of his conversation. I finally was able to -read his lips, only to find that all of his talk was trivial, and some -of it filthy beyond expression. I, in my silence, busy with my gleanings -from good literature, had fancied that my companions were using a gift -priceless to me, and denied, for what we may honestly call “the glory -of God.” My little essay into lip-reading was thus discouraged; it -seemed suddenly a waste of time. Youth is probably the best time for -studying lip-reading, when the spirit for riding down obstacles and -discouragements is stronger. - -The inexplicable sixth sense—a sort of intuition which we deaf -acquire—appears to be even stronger in afflicted animals than in men. -Sometimes it leads to an amusing outcome. In a certain New England State -a law was passed prohibiting exports of quail, and a well-informed -scientist was put in charge of it. He knew all about the habits of -quail, but little about the practical side of legal enforcement. He -made a tour through the State to consult with his deputies, and in -one locality he found a rough old farmer serving as game warden; an -independent old fellow, very deaf, most opinionated, with small respect -for professional knowledge. His constant companion was a little mongrel -dog, also very deaf. A strange silent combination they made, but they -carried a State-wide reputation for “spotting quail.” - -The clash came at the railroad station, where the professor was waiting -for his train, completely disgusted with the appearance and general -attitude of the warden. The latter came slouching along the platform -with the small brown dog at his heels, and the face of the learned man -became as a book, in which the countryman could “read strange matters.” -The deaf are prompt to act when action seems necessary or desirable. -They do not join in useless preliminaries. Quickly and decisively the -game warden opened the campaign. - -“You’re going home to fire me, but before you leave I want to tell you -before this crowd that you don’t know as much about this business as my -dog Jack does. He’s deaf, too!” - -There are few situations more damaging to dignity than a public -argument with an angry deaf person—especially when the participator -with good ears is a polished gentleman and ladies are present. Again, -some men might appreciate the compliment of being associated with a -large, noble-looking dog. But the professor glanced at Jack and fully -realized the size of the insult. Here was just a little brown dog of -no particular breed, with one ear upright and the other lying limp, -evidence of previous injury in a fight. How was the professor to know -that because the outer door of those ears was shut the brain had been -forced to greater activity. And here was a shambling backwoodsman -telling a Ph.D. that this disreputable creature was his mental superior! -The professor was too indignant for words, but the game warden was ready -to continue: - -“I’ll prove it! I’ll prove it right here. There’s a shipment of quail -going out of this town right now. Right on this platform are three -farmers, an old woman with a basket, two drummers with bags, old man -Edwards with a trunk, and that young woman with a fiddle case. Who’s got -the quail? Here’s a case where it don’t do us no good to know how many -eggs a quail lays or how many potato bugs she has in her gizzard. Who’s -got the quail? Can you tell?” - -“Why,” gasped the indignant professor, “do you suppose I am going to -insult this young woman by intimating that she is a quail runner? And -these gentlemen? It’s preposterous!” - -“It is, hey? Give it up, do ye? Well, we’ll try Jack. He can’t hear -nothing, but his ears have went to nose. Sic ’em, Jack!” And he snapped -his fingers at the little dog. - -Jack put up his one capable ear and trotted along the platform, -applying his scarred nose to each package. He sniffed at the bags of -the drummers, nosed the trunk and the baskets, and finally came to the -violin case of the beautiful young woman. The instant his nose touched -that case every hair on Jack’s back stood erect and that broken ear -came as near to rising as it ever had done since the fight. Jack was -undoubtedly “pointing” at the hiding-place of the quail. In spite of -the young woman’s protest, the warden opened the case, and inside were -thirteen quail, snugly packed. Probably the lady could not even play the -“Rogue’s March” on a real violin. - -And the farmer strode up triumphantly to the professor. Shaking a long -forefinger, he stated an evident truth. - -“Professor, mebbe you’ve got the science, but you hain’t got the scent!” - -Some of you who think that the loss of hearing can never be replaced by -a new sense may well be wary in your dealings with the deaf. There are -those like Jack, whose “ears have went to nose” and their “scent” is -quite too acute to be deceived. - -I am often asked how we pass our time when we are alone or unoccupied. -We cannot, of course, beguile the time with music or the conversation -of chance acquaintance. In some way the mind must be kept occupied—an -idle mind leads to depression, the first step of the trip to insanity. -One’s eyes weary of constant reading. Perhaps our loneliest situations -are found in the great crowds. I have invented all sorts of schemes to -keep my mind busy. In the old days, when I crossed the Hudson daily to -New York on a ferryboat, I would count the number of revolutions which -the great wheel required to take us over. I had the average of many -trips. I have gathered all sorts of statistics. What proportion of men -in a crowd wear soft hats? How many wear straw hats after the regulation -date for shedding them? Does the majority of women wear black hats? -What proportion of men cross the knee when sitting? Does a right-handed -man ease his left leg in this way? What proportion of the dark-colored -horses one sees have the white spot or star on the forehead? I started -that investigation and was astonished to find how common this white -star is. Then I went through all available books to learn how this star -originated. Is it the remnant of a blazed face? I have never solved my -question. Such investigation is a marvelous help to the deaf. - -Another of my plans is character study. I try to determine the -occupation and general character of strangers from their appearance, -their habits and the books they read. You would be surprised at the -accuracy of the observant deaf man in detecting these external marks -which he comes to understand. He finally secures a most interesting -chart of humanity, for in spite of us, character and occupation will -leave a stamp upon the face and actions. But we cannot always classify -strangers accurately. Here is one of my curious blunders: I saw daily -on the train a big, brutal-looking fellow with a red face, a flat -nose, well-protected eyes, and enormous arms and shoulders. I finally -classified him as a prize-fighter. One day he was reading a small book, -in which he was making frequent marks and comments. I reasoned that it -must be some new version of the “Manly Art of Self-Defense.” Soon my man -put down his book and went into the next car. Of course, I could not -resist the impulse to glance at the volume. It was “The Influence of -Christian Character in College Work.” My prize-fighter turned out to be -a professor in a theological seminary. At any rate, he was in the battle -against evil. - -No other persons can ride a hobby so gracefully and to such good purpose -as the deaf are able to do. No matter what it is, however childish, so -long as it can keep the mind clean and busy, it is our most wholesome -mental exercise. I know a deaf farmer who late in life started to -collect and properly name every plant that grew on his farm. It was -not only a wonderful help to him, but he became an expert botanist. -And this recalls a discussion perennial with deaf men. Will they be -happier in the country or in the city? The person inexperienced in -deafness will immediately decide for the country, but I am not so sure -that he is right. Farming is a business in which sound is important; -animals betray pain or pleasure largely through sound; a poultryman is -at a great disadvantage if he cannot hear the little ones. Then, too, -some deaf persons crave the sight of their fellows; it is a pleasure to -them to mingle silently with crowds; to see the multitudes pass by. The -country—far from the rush and struggle of humans—actually terrorizes -some deaf men. For myself, I greatly prefer the country, and I have -selected fruit trees as my working companions. They talk the silent -language, and they do not need to cry out when they wish to tell me -that they need help. Yet, of course, we are better off if we mingle -frequently with our fellows. - -Sometimes in public life or in crowds the right thing comes to us like -an inspiration. There was a deaf man who went out to address a meeting -of farmers. It was held in the open air, and a stiff wind blew straight -from the ocean to the speaker’s stand. The meeting was important; the -farmers were discouraged and discontented and had come to hear sound -advice and fearless comment. A cautious politician gave them half an -hour of unmitigated “hot air”—a collection of meaningless words and -high-sounding phrases. Then a well-known scientist followed with what -might appropriately be called “dry air.” The farmers disconsolately -classified both addresses as “wind,” and enough of that was blowing from -the ocean. Instinct told the deaf man that something was wrong, though -he had sat patiently through the long speeches without hearing a word. -When his turn came, he walked out of the wind into the shelter of a tree -and began: - -“Job was the most afflicted man who ever lived. Of course, I know that -there are men who claim that Job had a bed of roses compared with their -constant afflictions. But Job has the advantage of good advertising in -the Bible. He spoke a great truth when he said: - -‘Can a man fill his belly with the east wind?’” - -A mighty roar of laughter from that audience startled the deaf man. -Fortunately he had said just what was needed to explode the gloom and -disappointment of that audience. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -COMPANIONS IN TROUBLE - - The Deaf in Social and Business Life—The Partially - Deaf—Endeavors to “Get By”—The Yeas and the Nays—Fifty - Cents or a Dollar?—The Safety of the Written Word—The - Indian and the Whisky—The Boiling-down Process—The New - Sense Developed by Affliction—The Deaf Cat and the Piano. - - -During the years of expectancy, when we continue to look forward to -a cure, we deaf generally try to deceive ourselves along with others -by refusing to admit our condition, and by attempting to conceal the -defect in conversation. Many people are more or less deaf in one ear; -frequently they really do not realize the extent of their affliction. -They go through strange performances in their efforts to hear. Have -you ever seen a horse or a mule traveling with one ear bent forward -and the other reversed? The animal is, no doubt, somewhat defective in -hearing, and he “points” his ears front and back so as to catch all -noises, particularly commands from the driver. Back in the earlier ages -man also possessed this power of moving the ears; most of us have seen -individuals who still can control the muscles on the side of the head -so that their ears “wiggle.” All of us still have these muscles, even -if they have fallen out of use. Ear specialists say that many of us do -actually move our ears slightly when making a great effort to catch the -conversation. At any rate, human beings with defective hearing must bend -forward, or even move about a circle of talkers to get in full range -of the voices. We wonder sometimes why people insist upon getting on a -certain side of their companions, and always walk on the inside of the -street. Such a person is merely maneuvering to present the live side of -his head. - -It is really very foolish for the deaf to attempt to conceal their -affliction; it places us in a false position, and we are at an added -disadvantage in society. We may hide our trouble for a time, but sooner -or later we will be found out, and it is far wiser to be frank in the -first place. Some of our misguided efforts to pose as full men have -humorous results. We have various tricks of the trade which we at times -employ to catch or hold conversation. One common plan is to lead the -discussion along lines which will enable us to do most of the talking. -It has been said of the deaf man that he either talks all the time or -else says nothing, and that sometimes he does both at once. Sometimes -we meet a talker who is desperately determined to tell all of his own -story—which is one involving many fatal direct questions, such as “Am I -right?” “Do I make myself clear?” Then the deaf man is hopelessly lost, -and the part of wisdom is to produce pencil and pad. - -A friend of mine who knew that he was going deaf conceived the brilliant -scheme of saying “Yes,” or nodding his head to agree with everything -that was said to him. He felt that the path of least resistance lies -along the affirmative—in letting others always have the say. One day -he settled himself in the first vacant chair in a barber shop, at the -mercy of a very talkative barber, with whom expression of thought had -become merely a vocal exercise. My friend knew that this man was talking -and asking questions, but as he could hear nothing, he merely nodded at -each evident interrogation point. He had some important work on hand -which he was trying to develop, and, as is the habit of the deaf at such -times, he became absorbed in his thought and quite unmindful of what the -barber was doing. At each questioning look he emerged from his brown -study only long enough to nod his head. Finally the barber finished, and -presented a check for about three dollars. It then appeared that instead -of asking the usual questions about the weather and business the man -had been talking hair cut, singeing, facial massage, moustache curling, -hair renewer, and all the rest. Delighted at such a model customer, -the loquacious barber had done his full duty. Nothing but that special -Providence which guards fools and deaf men had saved my friend from the -bootblack, the vibrator and the manicure girl. - -I recently read in the daily paper of a lawsuit in which a man sued his -barber to recover $4.75 obtained in just this way—the plaintiff being -a deaf man. The justice decided against the barber on the ground that a -man cannot legally be said to order a service unless he knows what it is -going to be. So, score another for the deaf man. - -This and similar experiences convinced my deaf friend that the road to -affirmation is well lined with a group of citizens who do far more than -hold out their hats for charity. No deaf man is safe on that highway. -So he changed his method and shook his head at all questions. He said -that experience had convinced him that at best this is a selfish world, -and most men approached him seeking some advantage rather than offering -service: therefore a general negative was the best policy. Shortly after -making this decision he attended a reception at a wealthy man’s country -home. At one stage of the proceedings the men were all invited into a -side room, where a very dignified butler marched about and whispered to -each guest in turn. My friend ran true to form and shook his head. In a -short time a fine drink was served to everyone except himself. - -As his affliction progresses, the deaf man learns frankly to admit his -inability to hear. This turns out to be a remarkably effective way to -separate the sheep from the goats, for most people will never go to the -trouble of making us understand unless they have some really important -message to deliver. Whenever we owe money, we find that our creditors -are quite able to communicate with us; would that our debtors were -equally insistent! Now and then comes a man who feels the tremendous -importance of his message, although no one else recognizes it. He -looks upon the deaf man as his select audience, and after giving us an -agonizing half-hour, he goes on his way, pluming himself on the kindly -deed he has performed in helping the neglected deaf man to valuable -information! - -I once lived in a little Southern town where the man who kept the livery -stable was quite deaf. He was popularly known as a “near” man, “so close -you could see him.” “The only thing he could hear was the clink of money -in his pocket.” The men who worked for him often had trouble getting -their money. One day his stableman, Ben Adams, colored, approached the -boss and screamed in his ear: - -“Mr. Brown, can I have fifty cents?” - -Brown heard him perfectly, but no one ever extracted fifty cents from -him without working for it. So he put on a fierce look and roared: - -“_What?_ What did you say?” - -Exceeding penury had made Ben Adams bold. Here was a chance to raise his -demand, and the delay bolstered his courage. So he made a trumpet of -his hands and roared again: - -“Massa Brown, can I have _a dollar_?” - -Brown donned that fierce scowl which the deaf know so well how to -assume, and roared himself: - -“I thought you said fifty cents!” - -The only safety for the very deaf man is to have the message written -out. Lip-reading and the use of superior instruments are frequently -very helpful, but my own experience is that it is a mistake to accept -anything but written evidence. I take it that sound conversation is -uncertain at best, and when a message is passed along through several -persons, all more or less careless in speaking or listening, it is sure -to be twisted out of its original shape. In our Southern printing office -there was a stock anecdote about the Indian who mixed up his message. - -This Indian was printer’s devil in a small newspaper office in -Mississippi. He was said to be a star performer whenever he was -supported by firewater. In those days local printers made their own ink -rollers out of glue and molasses. During the Civil War the old roller -wore out, and it became necessary to send the Indian to Vicksburg for -the material for a new one. The printers did not dare write out the -order, for if papers were found on the Indian he would be hung for a -spy. So they coached him carefully and told him to go on saying over and -over to himself: - -“Something sticky and something sweet.” - -They felt that Vicksburg would understand this trade language, so they -started him off with the money. The Indian made straight for Vicksburg -through swamps and woods and across streams, ever repeating the -mysterious message. On the last lap of his journey he fell and struck -his head on a log with such force that he lay unconscious for a time. -Finally he recovered, shook his scattered wits together and went on -repeating the message. But it had been affected by the fall. Subjective -audition may even have been responsible, but, at any rate, when he -finally scrambled into the store at Vicksburg and presented his money, -he called for: - -“Something sweet and something to drink.” - -The merchant was well posted in this metaphor, so he fitted the Indian -out with a jug of whiskey and five pounds of brown sugar. A day or two -later the red man walked proudly into the printing office with this -roller material. The printers were given to philosophy, and, being -unable to make the ink roller, they proceeded to make a company of -high rollers, in which task they were ably assisted by the faithful -messenger. During the carouse a company of Grierson’s Union cavalry rode -into town. All trades were represented in the Union army, and a couple -of Northern printers used the printing outfit to good advantage. When -the owners woke up they were put to work printing one of Lincoln’s -proclamations. - -By insisting upon written communications we deaf lose much of the -skim-milk of conversation, but we come to be expert in estimating -the ability of our friends to express themselves in clear and simple -English. Try it on a few of your visitors. You will be astonished to -see how many well-educated men will fail at the simple test of writing -what they have to say quickly and tersely on paper. They flounder like -schoolboys. My observation, as I look out from the silent world, is -that with many humans talking becomes a sort of mechanical operation, -usually involving no particular thought. It takes brains to put words on -paper; and, again, the written word is actual evidence. A man speaking -to you, and writing to me, would probably give me the stronger and more -reliable account—and work harder while doing it. I know a very pompous, -dignified gentleman of the old school who would probably say to you: - -“The fateful hands upon the clock registered midnight’s doleful hour -before my head sought my pillow.” - -Or, “The emotions generated by that pathetic occasion had such a -profound effect upon me that I fell into a lachrymose condition.” - -If I handed him my pencil and pad he would get down to: - -“I went to bed at twelve. I wept.” - -Another bar to wordy discussions on paper is the fact that many -well-informed people are not sure of their spelling. In this modern age -too many business men depend upon their clerks and stenographers to see -to such trifles as spelling and grammar; their own knowledge of the -mechanics of expression grows dusty. One reason for the decline of the -Roman Empire was that the soldiers became too lazy to carry their own -weapons. They left them to slaves, and the slaves practiced with the -implements of war until they became so expert that they overcame the -masters. I think of this sometimes when a man who has nearly lost the -art of writing through this transfer of the medium of expression from -the hand to the mouth tries to communicate with me. Once I received -a scathing reply to an excuse I made to a correspondent—that a sore -throat had made it difficult for me to dictate letters. He acidly -inquired how long it had been since people wrote letters with the -throat. - -Ignorant men who write little usually make the meaning evident, though -the form cannot be called graceful. One night a drunken man drove into -my yard by mistake. It was pitch dark, and I happened to be alone on the -farm. His horses, eager for harbor, had turned into our road. I went -without a lantern (the family had taken it on their trip) to turn his -horses about and start them down the highway. Then he became possessed -with a strong desire to tell me all his troubles. Of course, as I could -not hear them, I made no reply, and my silence so enraged him that he -wanted to fight. He clambered down from the wagon and groped about in -the darkness to reach me. At last I made him understand that I could not -hear, whereupon he was seized with a great grief for my trouble, and -insisted on writing out his sentiments for me. There was no denying him, -so off at one side of the buildings I started a little blaze of straw, -and by its light he scrawled on a piece of writing paper with a blunt -pencil. By the same flickering light I deciphered this: - -“_I am darn sorry. My brother cured his’n with skunk oil._” - -Then he drove off singing, glad in his heart that he had offered -consolation to an afflicted brother. - -My children have been interpreters for me from the time they were able -to write. They can go with me on business trips and get the message -which others frequently cannot deliver on paper. At first they found -this hard and irksome, but it has proved remarkably good drill for -them in English. They have come to be excellent reporters, with the -ability to put the pith of long sentences and whole lectures into a -few exact words. This exercise of giving the deaf man an accurate and -brief account of the great volume of an ordinary conversation has really -developed their powers of expression. - -We of the silence know that but few words are needed to grasp the really -essential things of life, and we often wonder why others lose so much -time in the useless approach to a subject when we can often see through -it by intuition. Probably one of the compensations of our affliction is -that we actually come to consider that these talkative, emotional people -who surround us are abnormal. Two men with good ears meet for a business -deal. They must go through the formula of discussing the weather, crops, -or politics before they start at the real subject. The whole discussion -is useless and irrelevant, yet they both feel that in some way it is -necessary, and even when they reach the point at issue, they seem to -prolong the debate with useless formal details. The deaf man cannot do -it that way. He must fully understand his side of the case beforehand, -forego all preliminaries, and plunge right into the heart of the subject -with as few words as possible. Is this entirely a disadvantage? I think -the man with perfect hearing might well learn from the deaf man whom he -pities in this respect to cut out useless conversation and spend the -extra time in thinking out his project. The most forceful and dependable -men you know are not long talkers and elaborators. Their words are few -and strong. - -While a philosopher may perhaps summon this sort of reasoning to his aid -in the matter of conversation, he cannot apply it to music. Here the -deaf are quite hopeless. I have little knowledge of music, and could -never fairly distinguish one note from another. I have often wondered -whether a real musician who has lost his hearing can obtain any comfort -from _reading_ music as we read poetry or history for consolation. -Can a man hum over to himself some of the noble operas and obtain the -satisfaction which comes to me from “Paradise Lost” or Shakespeare? No -one seems to be able to tell of this; but of all the sorrowful people of -the silent world, the saddest are the musicians, for sound was more than -life to them. I read that Beethoven could muster no consolation when the -silence finally fell upon him. Life had turned dark, with no hope of -light. - -I often sit with people who tell me that they are listening to -delightful harmony of sound—music. My children grow up and learn to -play and sing, but I do not hear them. When my boy plays his violin -I get no more pleasure from it than I do from his sawing of a stick -of wood—not so much, in fact, for I know that the wood will build up -my fire and give me the light and heat which I can appreciate. It is -absurd, and I smile to myself, but sometimes when others sit beside me -with invisible fingers playing over their heart-strings at the wailing -of the violin and the calm tones of the piano, my mind goes back to -Lump, the white cat. - -There is a general belief that white cats are deaf. I know that some -of them cannot hear, and Lump was one of the afflicted. I am bound to -say that Lump endured his loss with great equanimity; he was more of a -success than I ever was. He has given me more points on living happily -in the silence than I ever obtained from any human being. He forgot the -drawbacks and enlarged the advantages. Lump was never strikingly popular -with my wife. She _would not_ have cats in the house, and, her hearing -being good, she could not appreciate the philosophy of this particular -specimen. The proper place for cats, in her mind, was the barn, where -they may perform their life duty of demolishing rats and mice. There are -some humans who, like Lump, are forced into ignoble service when they -are really capable of giving instruction in psychology. - -Long before my time men have been forced to meet their boon companions -under cover of darkness, or they have had to make private arrangements -for a rendezvous with the “guide, philosopher and friend.” So, sometimes -at night, after the rest of the family had retired, I would open the -back door. There always was Lump, curled on the mat, ready to share my -fire. Many a time as I let him in I have taken down a familiar old book -from its shelf and read Thackeray’s poem: - - “So each shall mourn, in life’s advance, - Dear hopes dear friends untimely killed; - Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance, - And longing passion unfulfilled. - Amen! Whatever fate be sent, - Pray God the heart may kindly glow, - Although the head with care be bent, - And whitened with the Winter’s snow. - - “Come wealth or want, come good or ill, - Let old and young accept their part, - And bow before the awful will; - _And bear it with an honest heart_, - Who misses or who wins the prize. - Go; lose or conquer as you can, - And if you fail, or if you rise, - Be each, pray God, a gentleman!” - -And Lump would sit at the other side of the fire, turn his wise head to -one side, and look over at me as if to say: - -“Old fellow, we are two of a kind—a rejected kind. They pity us for our -misfortune; let’s make them envy us for our advantages. I know more of -the habits of rats and mice than any cat in this neighborhood, because I -have been forced to study them. I have made new ears out of my eyes and -nose and brain, and so developed a new sense—instinct, which is worth -far more than their hearing. Why can’t you do the same with men?” - -Those were great nights with Lump before my fire, and we both understood -that when the interview was over he was to go outside. One night, -however, I forgot this, and as I went sleepily off to bed he stayed -curled up by the warm hearth. The dreams of a deaf man are usually -vivid and emphatic. Sleep may be your time for rest and relief from -noise; with us it may be our period of music and excitement. That night -I dreamed that I was engaged in a prize-fight. I had given the other -man a knockout blow, when suddenly the referee came up from behind and -struck me on the side with such force that my ribs all seemed to give -way. I “came to” to find an energetic figure sitting up in bed beside -me, and pounding my side in an effort to bring me back to assume my true -position as defender of the family. Around the bed were grouped several -small white figures, and at last they made me understand. - -“There’s someone downstairs. He’s robbing the house. We can hear him. Go -down and see about it!” - -“What’s he doing?” - -“Playing the piano.” - -I will admit that my experience with burglars is somewhat limited, but -I had never heard of one who stopped to play the piano before starting -to burgle. Only a very desperate character would be likely to do that. -There have been numerous cases where a deaf man has been shot down when -approaching a house at night. He may have come on the most innocent -errand, but as he could not hear the command, “Speak or I’ll fire!” -he kept steadily on and was shot. I remembered these incidents, but -could not recall any instance where the deaf man was supposed to give -the order. But I had been telling my children great stories of life on -the plains, and the only way for me to remain a hero was to tackle the -intruder. I took my big stick and started down, while my wife brought a -lamp and held it at the top of the stairs. I presume she was handing out -some very sensible advice as I descended—but I could not hear it. - -Now, what would you do and what would you say if you were roused at -night, led by your family into a conflict, only to find an old and -trusted friend robbing the henroost? I probably felt all your emotions -when I caught sight of that robber. The piano had been left open, and -there, walking up and down the keyboard impartially on black and white -was my old friend Lump—the deaf cat. He was taking advantage of a -night in the house to go on a voyage of exploration. His jump on to the -piano led to my disgrace. The “robber” was quickly flung into outer -darkness by an indignant woman, and probably I escaped a plain recital -of my shortcomings only by lack of hearing. Do you know, while I would -congratulate the husband on his escape, I always feel sorry for the -lady, who would be well justified in giving her man a full lecture, and -yet knows that he would not hear it. However, I feel that some innocent -member of the family may receive the impact of these remarks. At any -rate, before we were settled the baby woke up. It certainly was one -of those rare occasions when the deaf man appreciates his advantages -enthusiastically. - -But why did Lump, in spite of his usual good sense, decide to try the -piano at midnight? Of course, he did not know he was making a noise; but -why mount the piano? I puzzled over this, and the wise old cat looked at -me pityingly; but I could not understand. Every time he could slip into -the house he went straight to the piano for a promenade up and down the -keys. I began to think that we had developed a wonderful “musical cat.” - -Some time later the piano seemed to need tuning, and a tuner came to -take the muffle and twang out of its strings. When he opened up the -front, the mystery of the musical cat was revealed. Just behind the -keys, inside, was the nest of a mouse; she had carried in a handful -of soft material—and in it were half a dozen baby mice. Lump had not -been attempting “Home, Sweet Home”; his thought had been more nearly -along the line of “Thou Art So Near, and Yet So Far.” He had no ear for -music, but he had a nose for mice, and he had demonstrated his knowledge -of the habits of mice. I, too, have found it wiser to judge people by -their habits rather than by their music, for there are many who would be -willing to play “Home, Sweet Home” while in reality they are after the -mice. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE APPROACH TO SILENCE - - The Approach of Deafness—The College - Woman—Student Methods in General—Calamity and - Courage—Animals and Thought Communication—Another - Compensation—Pronunciation and the Defensive Campaign. - - -Some years ago we planted a hedge at the end of my lawn. For years -I could sit at the dining-table and look over it. At night I saw my -neighbor’s window-light, and by day I could see him or some of his -family moving about the house or the fields. As the years went on I -became aware that the hedge was growing. Finally there came a Spring -when the bushes were filled out with foliage so that all view of the -neighbor’s house was lost. I could not see the light at night. While I -knew the people were moving about during the daytime, I could not see -them. The hedge had shut me away from them, yet it had grown so slowly -and so gently that there was no shock. Had my neighbor shut himself -suddenly away from view by building a spite fence, the loss would have -been far greater. This instance somewhat resembles the difference -between sudden loss of hearing and its slow fading away. - -I know of the curious case of a woman who could not be made to realize -that her hearing was going until the common tests of everyday life -convinced her that she was going deaf. What are these common tests? The -usual ones are inability to hear the clocks and the birds. Very likely -you have been in the habit of listening to the clock at night when -for some reason sleep was impossible. It has been a comfort to you to -think how this constant old friend goes calmly on through sun or storm, -through joy or sorrow, gathering up the dust of the seconds into the -grains of the minutes, and forming them into bricks of the hours and -days. Or you may have been alone in the house on a Winter’s night. You -heard the house timbers crack, and gentle fingers seemed to be tapping -on the window pane. Then there came a night when you lay awake and -missed the sound of your old friend, who seemed to have stopped checking -off the marching hours. Many a deaf person waking in the night, missing -the sound of the clock, has risen from bed and brought a light to start -the old timepiece going. Not one of you can realize what it means when -the light falls upon the face of the clock, revealing the minute hand -still cheerfully circling its appointed course. The clock is still -going, but something else has stopped. - -We have endured another test in watching the birds. Most of us can -remember when the morning was full of bird music. One day as we walk -about it comes suddenly home to us that the birds are silent or have -disappeared. At least, we can no longer hear them. We look about and -notice a robin on the lawn. We see him throw back his head, open his -mouth and move his throat. He is evidently singing—but we did not know -it. I cannot tell you in ordinary language how a chill suddenly passes -over the heart as we realize that as long as life lasts music is to -become to us as unsubstantial as the shadow of a cloud passing over the -lawn. - -The woman I speak of knew by these tests that her hearing was failing. -She was a student at college, where quick and sound ears are essential -if one is to obtain full benefit from lectures. I know just what this -means from my own experience, since I entered college some little time -after my ears began to fail. I am frequently asked how it is possible -for students with defective hearing to obtain an education. To the -ambitious man or woman the first thought on discovering the beginnings -of deafness is that the mind must be improved so as to make skilled -labor possible. Too many deaf people after a brief struggle feel -that fate has denied them the right to an education, and they give -up trying in despair. I found several ways of partly overcoming the -difficulty. I copied notes made by another student. In every class you -will find several natural reporters who make a very clear synopsis of -the lectures, and are rather proud of their skill. I found one lazy and -brilliant fellow who was an excellent reporter, though he absolutely -refused to study. He would give me his report and I would look up the -authorities and help him fill in the skeleton. We served each other like -the blind and the halt. I also made arrangements with several professors -to read their lecture notes. Most of them are quite willing to permit -this when they find the deaf man earnest and determined. In fact, the -average professor comes to be a dry sawbones of a fact dispenser, whose -daily struggle is to cram these facts into the more or less unwilling -student brain. When an interested deaf man appears, actually eager to -read the lectures, the soul of the driest professor will expand, for -here, he thinks, is full evidence of appreciation. The world and the -units which comprise it have always admired determination, or what plain -people call “grit.” I think it has been given that name because it is -that substance which the fighter may throw into the works of the machine -which would otherwise roll over him. - -Working thus, I came to know something of the inner life of these -professors, whose daily routine comes to be a struggle with untrained -minds which resent all efforts to harness them. The attitude of the -average student in the class-room, as I recall it, reminds me of our -trotting colt, Beauty. She was so full of trotting blood that at -times it boiled over into a desire for a mad run. We thought we had a -world-beater, but when we put her on the track she could barely shade -four minutes. An experienced trainer took her in hand, put foot-weights -and straps on her and forced her to change her gait and concentrate -her power. How that beautiful little horse did rage and chafe at this -indignity! One could imagine her protest. - -“Let me be free! Do I not know how to pick up my feet and use my limbs -for speed? My father was a king of speed—my mother of royal blood! Set -me free! Nature has given me natural swiftness—I do not need your art!” - -But they held poor Beauty to it, though she chafed and lathered, and -tried to throw herself down. Everywhere she met the weights, the straps -and the cruel whip. At last she submitted to discipline and did as she -was told. She clipped fully ninety seconds from her natural speed for a -mile, but while she was forced to obey she had little respect for her -trainer. - -Could my college professors have controlled their human colts with -weights, straps and whips, it is more than likely that education would -have established a new record. I found my teachers quite willing to give -the list of references from which their lectures were taken, and with -these in hand the deaf student may read in advance of his class and be -fully prepared. As a rule, he does not stand high in recitations, but -excels in his written work. The truth is that for work which requires -study and research, deafness is something of an advantage. It enables -a student fully to concentrate his mind on the subject. It seems to me -that most of the world’s imperishable thoughts have been born in the -silence, or, at least, in solitude. The fact is that the human ear, for -all the joy, comfort or power it may give, is at best a treacherous and -undependable organ. Perhaps I cannot be classed as an authority on a -subject which involves accurate hearing, but I know that the greatest -danger in my business is that we are sometimes forced to rely upon -spoken or hearsay evidence. I will not use statements in print until -they are written out and signed. Too many people depend for their facts -upon what others tell them. The brain may distort the message and memory -may blur it. The wise deaf man learns to discount spoken testimony, and -will act only upon printed or written words. I have had people come to -me fully primed for an hour’s talk of complaint or scandal; I hand them -a pad of paper and a pencil, settle back and say: - -“Now tell me all about it.” - -That pen or pencil is usually as efficient as a milk-tester in -determining the surprisingly small amount of fat which exists in the -milk of ordinary conversation. - -You see, as I told you I should be likely to do, I have wandered away -from the text. That is characteristic of the deaf, for we seldom hear -the text, anyway. The woman I started to tell about managed to work -through college and began treatment for her deafness. This promised some -relief, when suddenly the great earthquake shook San Francisco. The -shock and fright of that catastrophe destroyed her hearing entirely. I -have heard of several cases where deafness came like this, in a flash. -As one man repeated to me: - -“At twenty-nine minutes past ten I actually heard a pin drop on the -floor of my room. At half-past ten it would have been necessary to prick -me to let me know that the pin was there.” - -And this woman’s mother died. Her daughter was forced to sit beside her -at the last, unable to hear the message which the mother, just passing -into the unseen country, tried to give. In all the book of time, I -suppose there is recorded no more terrifying sadness than the fact of -this inability to hear the parting words. Sometimes I regret that I -promised not to make this book a tale of woe, for what could I not tell, -if I would, of the soul-destroying sadness of this longing to hear a -whispered confidence? - -The woman of whom I speak did not shrivel under the heat of calamity. -She continued treatment, and has made some slight gain in hearing. And -now she has qualified as an expert physician. People wonder how a deaf -person can possibly diagnose organic diseases, such as heart trouble, -or even pneumonia. They can do it, for I have known several very deaf -physicians who yet have met with marked success. One in particular was -for years a chief examiner for a large insurance company. There was -something almost uncanny about the way this man could look into the -human body and put his finger upon any weak spot. I finally decided -that he had developed as a substitute for hearing a hidden power to -record with the eye and mind the symptoms not visible to most of his -profession. The others depended on man-made charts and rules. Their -perfect ears had made them slaves to common practice. My deaf friend, -deprived of the ordinary avenue of approach for consultation, had pushed -off like a pioneer into the unknown, where he had found the mysterious -power. - -I am well aware that I am getting out where the water is deep and that -many of you are not prepared to swim with me. But there are some very -strange things happening in the silent world. Have you ever noticed -two deaf people trying to communicate? Strange as the process may -appear, they are able to make each other understand, and they do it -quite easily, where a person with good ears would have great trouble. -I feel convinced that this century will see a system of wordless -thought communication worked out, though its beginnings may be crude. -It will be developed first by the afflicted, chiefly by the deaf. I am -sure that you have noticed, as I have, how the so-called dumb animals -can communicate. Let us take a group of horses at pasture. Now that -gasoline has so largely superseded oats as motive force on our farms, -younger people may not fully understand, but most people of middle age -will remember how old Dick and Kate and all the rest went to a service -of grass on Sunday. Perhaps they were scattered all over the field. -Suddenly Dick, the galled old veteran off by his fence corner, raised -his head and considered for a moment. Near by were old Sport and Kate, -feeding side by side as they have worked in the harness for years. Soon -old Dick walked meditatively up to this pair. He halted beside them and -they stopped feeding for a moment, apparently to listen. The old horse -stayed with them for a time and then walked slowly about the field to -the others. No audible sound was made, but finally, one by one, the -horses all stopped feeding and followed their leader up to the shadow -of the big tree. The gray mare and her foal were the last to go. There -in the shade the horses stood for some time with their heads together. -Evidently some soundless discussion was taking place. At one point the -gray mare threatened to kick old Dick, but she was prevented by big Tom, -who seemed to be sergeant-at-arms. After a time they separated, and -each went back to the spot where he was feeding. Who does not know that -there has been a convention at which these horses have agreed upon some -definite line of conduct? They may have organized a barnyard strike -or mutiny. Dick and Kate may refuse to pull at the plow. Perhaps the -council agreed to let certain parts of the pasture grow up to fresh -grass. We saw the colt chasing the sheep back to the hill. No doubt -he had been appointed a committee of one to do this, since the sheep -nibble too close to allow an honest horse a good mouthful. At any rate, -through some power which humans do not possess, these animals are able -to communicate, and to make their wants known. I presume that originally -man possessed something of this strange power. As he developed audible -language he let the ability fall into disuse. The Indians and some -savages have retained much of it. I take it that the deaf, shut away -from much of ordinary conversation, redevelop something of this power. - -Kipling brings this idea out well in some of his Vermont stories. The -farmer goes on Sunday afternoon to salt the horses in the back pasture, -where the boarding horses are feeding. These boarders represent a -strange mixture. There are “sore” truck horses from the city, family -nags on vacation, and old veterans whose days of usefulness are ended. -With this mixed company, bringing in all the tricks of the city, are -the sober work horses of the farm. The farmer puts his salt on the -rocks where the horses can lick it, and then sits down to look over the -rolling country. Several of these city boarders are of the “tough” -element, and they attempt to stir up a mutiny. - -“See,” they say as they lick the salt, “now we have him. He does not -suspect us. We can creep up behind him, kick him off that rock and -trample him.” - -But the farm horses object. This man has treated them well, and they -will fight for him, and the toughs are awed. I have spent much time -watching farm animals at silent communication, and I have come to -believe that Kipling’s story may be partly true. I have seen our big -Airedale, Bruce, sit with his head at one side watching the children -at play on the lawn. He will walk off to where the other dogs are, and -evidently tell them about it, glancing at the children as he does so. - -Some men are able to talk with their eyebrows or their shoulders or -their hands so that they are easily understood. I talked with an Italian -once through an interpreter. This man was a fruit-grower, and my friend -explained to him that I was growing peaches without cultivating the -soil, just cutting the grass and weeds and letting them lie on the -top of the ground. The Italian regarded this as rank heresy, and he -evidently regretted his inability to express himself in English. He did -give a curious long shrug to his shoulders, he spread out his hands, -rolled his eyes and spat on the ground. He could not possibly have -expressed his disapproval more eloquently, and I understood his feelings -far better than I did those of the learned professor who elaborated a -complicated theory for growing peaches. - -All intelligent deaf men will tell you that they know something of this -subtle power. Edison is very deaf, and I am not surprised to learn -that he is studying it, attempting to organize it. It is one of the -interesting mysteries of the silent world, and it can be made into a -great healing compensation for one who will view his affliction with -philosophy, concentrating his mind upon its study. - -While, of course, I could make a long catalogue of the compensations -and advantages of deafness, we must all admit that there is another -side. For instance, the man of the silent world must avoid the -pitfall of pronunciation. When sound is lost he forgets how words are -pronounced, and the new words and phrases constantly entering the -language are mysterious stumbling blocks. For example, no sensible deaf -man will mention the name of that Russian society, the epithet now so -glibly applied by conservatives to all who show radical tendencies. -Nor would he attempt to put tongue to the hideous names of some of -the new European States, or even to the name of McKinley’s assassin. -He lets someone else attempt those, some reckless person with good -ears. A strange thing about it is that our friends do not understand -our limitations in this respect. My wife ought to know most of the -restrictions and tricks of the deaf. Yet she was quite surprised when I -hesitated about reading a church lecture without a rehearsal. It was -a canned lecture, where you procure the slides and the manuscript, and -select some well-voiced “home talent” to read it. I was chosen as the -“talent,” but I remembered how years before I upset a sober-minded group -by twisting up “Beelzebub.” Therefore, I wanted to read the lecture over -several times and practice on some of the hard Bible names. Suppose I -ran unexpectedly on those men who went down into the fiery furnace. -Every child in the Sunday school could reel them off perfectly, but I -had not heard of them for years, and I defy any one to get them right at -sight. - -Let the wise deaf man stick to the words he knows about until he has -practiced the new ones to the satisfaction of his wife and daughter. He -may well put up a defensive fight in most of his battles. Let him be -sure of his facts, sure that he is right, and then stand his ground. Let -others do the advancing and the countering and play the part of Napoleon -generally; the deaf man will do better to “stand pat.” - -“But when was there ever a successful defensive campaign?” - -I advise you to get out your history and read of the Norman conquest. -The battle of Hastings decided that. The Saxons lost that battle by -refusing to “stand pat.” They ran out of their stronghold and were -divided and destroyed. Had they taken my advice to deaf men, the -history of England would have been bound in blond leather instead of -black! That might have made considerable difference to you and me. I -think I may say without fear of contradiction that the deaf invite most -of their troubles by running out after them; when if we would keep -within our own defenses and stand our ground we might avoid them. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -MIXING WORD MEANINGS - - Misunderstandings and Half-meanings—The Lazy - Vocalists—The Minister and the Chicken Pie—Reconciling - the Deaf Old Couple—When One Book Agent Received a - Welcome—Putting the “Sick” in “Music.” - - -The average man does not begin to realize how sadly he has neglected the -training of his vocal organs. I have known men who have less than half -the articulation of a bullfrog to blame people with dull hearing because -they cannot understand the muffled mouthings and lazy vocalisms. Here we -deaf have a real grievance. There ought to be a world where the blame -and the ridicule for a failure to hear would go to the talker rather -than to the listener. The mouth is more often at fault than the ears, -although society will not have it so. There are people who run their -words together like beads crowded on a string. Others talk as though -their mouths were made for eating entirely, and were constantly employed -for that purpose. “His mouth is full of hot hasty pudd’n,” is the way -my deaf aunt would put it—and she was right in more ways than one, -for usually these mumblers and mouthers come with a foolish or useless -message, though they may consider it of the highest importance. Others -seem to consider it bad form to talk loud enough for the ordinary ear to -catch the sounds. I frequently wonder if people with such featureless -voices realize how they are regarded by those who are approaching the -silence. They seem to me persons who have hidden a priceless talent—not -in the earth like the unfaithful servant of the parable, but in their -chests, like a miser. It seems to me a crime to turn what might become -a flute or a silver-toned cornet into a whimpering bellows or a cracked -tin horn. I would have every child trained in some form of elocutlon -or music; such lessons would be far more useful to the world than much -of the geography and so-called science now taught in our schools. Many -blunders can be traced to the mumblers and lazy-voiced talkers. - -Some of our commonest and most amusing mishaps are caused by our getting -only a word here and there in a conversation—and it often happens -that we seize upon something unimportant in a sentence and dress it up -grotesquely with our own ideas of what the speaker is trying to convey. -This is bad business, I know, but many people show such impatience when -we ask for repetitions that we prefer to take chances. - -I remember one farm family consisting years ago of a very deaf and -dominating woman, her mild and well-drilled husband, and the boy they -were “bringing up.” The woman mastered the household, partly because -it was her nature to rule, and partly because it was impossible to -argue with her. She never heard any opposing opinions. The evidence was -always all one way—her way. The dominant or self-assertive deaf are the -greatest tyrants on earth; those who are not self-assertive are usually -bossed and put aside. In this family the deaf man and the boy well knew -how to keep to their places. There was something calculated to make you -shiver in the almost uncanny way the deaf woman would catch that boy at -his tricks. Every now and then she would stand him up in a corner, point -a long, bony finger at him and demand: - -“_Boy, are you doing right?_” - -As he was usually meditating some bit of mischief, this constant appeal -to conscience kept him well under subjection. - -One cold day in early Spring the man and the boy were sorting potatoes -down cellar. That is a hungry job, and they were poorly fortified by a -light breakfast. The old man had cut a piece from the salt fish which -hung from a nail and divided it with the boy, but he truthfully said -it was not very “filling.” However, it made them thirsty, so in a few -minutes the man went up to the kitchen for a drink of water, and also -for the purpose of considering the prospects for dinner. His wife sat by -the stove reading her Bible, and he came up close to her. - -“What ye goin’ ter have for dinner?” - -“Who’s goin’ ter be here?” - -“Nobody but the boy.” - -In those days the line-up at the dinner-table made considerable -difference to the housekeeper. A “picked-up dinner” was ample for the -family, but special guests meant more elaborate fare. The lady had -listened attentively and had caught the sound of just one word—“boy.” -She used that for the foundation of the sentence, and let imagination do -the rest. So she gave her husband credit for saying: - -“The Reverend Mr. Joy.” - -Now this Mr. Joy was the minister. There was little about him to suggest -his name, but those were the good old days when “the cloth” was entitled -to a full yard of respect—and received it. In these days a woman may -gain fame by writing a book, running for office or appearing in some -spectacular divorce case; but these are commonplace affairs compared -with the old-time excitement of entertaining the minister and having him -praise the dinner. If the Rev. Mr. Joy was to be her guest, the farm -must shake itself to provide a full meal. So the deaf lady hastened at -once into action; she put her book aside, shook up the fire vigorously, -and meanwhile acquired a program. - -“In that case we’ll have chicken pie!” - -The man and the boy went out and ran down the old Brahma rooster. They -finally cornered him by the fence, where the old gentleman fell on him -and pinned him to the ground. Then they cut off his head, plunged him -into hot water, and the boy picked him, having stepped into a grain -sack, which served as an apron. That rooster had the reputation of being -old enough to vote, but those New England housekeepers well knew how to -put such a tough old customer into the pot and take him out as tender as -a broiler. - -It was not until that chicken pie was on the table that the old lady -finally understood that she had exerted herself for the boy and not -for the minister. But again she rose at once to the occasion. That pie -was too rich for her plain family, so she carefully put it away in the -pantry and fed her husband and the boy on remnants. These consisted -of scrapings from the bean-pot, one fish ball, boiled turnips and one -“Taunton turkey,” which was the fashionable name for smoked herring. The -pie was held for next day, when the reverend was actually invited, and -he came. - -It may have been your pleasant privilege to see a hungry minister, whose -lines are cast in a community where thrift marches a little ahead of -charity in the social parade, get within a few feet of a genuine New -England chicken pie. If you have not experienced this, you do not know -the real meaning of eloquent anticipation. Mr. Joy was hungry, and old -Brahma had certainly acquired the tenderness of youth. The minister had -had two helps and wanted another; he saw a fine piece of breast meat -right at the edge of the crust. It was an occasion for diplomacy, for -well he knew that the lady was planning to save enough of that pie for -the Sunday dinner. He cleared his throat and put his best pulpit voice -into the announcement: - -“Mrs. Reed, this is an excellent pie!” - -This compliment did not quite carry across the table. - -“What say?” - -Very slowly and distinctly did Mr. Joy repeat his compliment in shorter -words. - -“_This hen is a great success._” - -The lady got part of that sentence. She was sure of “hen” and “great -success.” It happened that her nephew, Henry, was a student at the -theological seminary, and had delivered a strong sermon in the local -church shortly before. Naturally she thought the “hen” referred to him, -particularly as anyone ought to have known that the pie had been made -from an old rooster. So, with a pleasant smile she acknowledged the -compliment, coming as near to the target as the deaf generally do: - -“_Yes, I always said that Henry was best fitted of all our flock to -enter the ministry._” - -The Reverend Mr. Joy put his head on one side and let this remark -thoroughly soak into his mind. Then he silently passed his plate for -that piece of white meat, as he should have done before. Action is far -more emphatic than words to the deaf. - -Then there were the two old people who had become estranged. Both were -very deaf, without imagination, and very stubborn. They quarreled -over some trivial misunderstanding, and refused to speak to each -other; for years they had lived in the same house, with never a word -passing between them. Probably the original trouble was due to a -misunderstanding of words, but when the deaf are obstinate and “set in -their ways,” you have the human mind like an oyster depositing a thick -shell of prejudice around the germ of charity and good nature. This is -one reason why they of all people should continuously read good poetry -and stories of human nature; this is their best chance for keeping in -touch with common humanity, and if a man lose the contact he is no -longer a full man. - -So these old people lived together and yet never addressed each other. -There was one ear trumpet between them, and they always waited for -visitors to come before trying to communicate. They had been known to -call in some stranger who chanced to be passing in order that he might -act as intermediary. In truth, the old couple still loved each other in -an odd, clumsy fashion, and both would gladly have broken the silence -had not the pride of each refused to “give way.” - -One day the neighbor’s boy came to borrow some milk, and both seized -upon him to act as interpreter. He screamed an explanation of his errand -to the old lady. - -“Pa tried to milk old Spot, and she kicked him and the pail over. Ma -wants to borry some milk to feed the baby.” - -“Tell him to get the pan off the pantry shelf.” - -The boy delivered the message and the old man got the milk. - -“Tell her I want my dinner.” - -The boy did his best to scream this into the lady’s ear, but his feeble -voice cracked under the strain. The listener got only one clear sound. - -“Says he’s a miserable sinner, does he? You’re right; he is. I’m glad to -see he’s getting humble. Tell him I’m waiting for dry wood. If I don’t -get it, I’ll raise Cain!” - -The boy ran over to the man with this message. The part about the wood -was easy for there was the empty wood box. The rest of the message was -too dull for his ears. So he hunted up pencil and paper and told the boy -to write it out, while his wife sat congratulating herself with: - -“Well, I may be kinda deaf; but I ain’t so bad as he is.” - -After a protracted struggle with the pencil, the boy produced: - -“She says she’ll give you cane.” - -“A gold-headed cane. Just what I wanted! ’Pears to me Aunt Mary’s -getting ready to admit she was wrong. You tell her I knew she’d smart -for it!” - -The boy went faithfully back across the room and screamed the message, -which she understood to be: - -“He knew you’re awful smart!” - -There was no question about the pleasure this gave her, but when was any -woman of spirit easily won? She could not give way so quickly. - -“You just tell him to keep his soft soap for washing days!” - -The boy again did his best, but the old man only heard “soap” and -“days,” and happily, imagination came to his aid and framed: - -“I hope for happy days!” - -The old man looked at his wife for a moment, and there was a mighty -struggle in his mind. Finally he hunted for their community ear trumpet, -and marched across the room to her side. At great cost of pride he put -the tube of the trumpet to her ear and shouted: - -“I’d like to _make_ it happy days, Mary; and I kinda think I was part -wrong. Anyway, here I be speaking first.” - -Aunt Mary took her turn at the trumpet. - -“Reuben, I’m awful glad you spoke first. Thinking it over, I guess I was -a little to blame, too, but not half as much as you were!” - -And Reuben saw visions of his old courting days, when they could both -hear whispered confidences, when this gray and wrinkled woman was a -blooming girl. And the old man rose to heights of wild extravagance. - -“Here, boy,” he said, “I’ll give you ten cents to go out to the shed and -split an armful of that soft pine.” - -And after the door closed behind him—well, there is a human language -which needs no words for its interpretation; it is action. - -It is no wonder that when the boy returned Aunt Mary was so flustered -that instead of filling the pail with the skim-milk, she poured in fine -cream! That baby had a full supply of vitamines for once. - -I am acquainted with a young man who once went out into a country -neighborhood to canvass for a subscription book. This man was somewhat -deaf, just enough to make him mix words a little. Of course, he had no -business to serve as a book agent, but the deaf will sometimes attempt -strange things. He stopped at one farmhouse and found a middle-aged -man and woman in the sitting-room. The man was evidently annoyed and -embarrassed by the book agent’s entrance, but the latter paid little -attention. He ran glibly through his story twice, and finished as usual, -handing his pencil over with his usual persuasive: - -“Sign right here, on this dotted line.” - -“Not on your life,” was the man’s response; but the agent heard only one -word distinctly, and got that wrong. He understood: - -“Talk to my wife,” and, being on the lookout for any encouragement, he -proceeded to do this in his best style. - -“Why, madam, think for a moment what it will mean to have this beautiful -book on your center table. When your husband here comes in from his work -it will entertain him and give him a kindly regard for his family. And, -madam, consider your children. When they come to the age of maturity -with such parents—” But that was as far as he could go, for the woman -dropped her work, screamed and ran from the room, leaving the book agent -completely mystified over what he had said to start such a scene. The -man glanced at him for a moment, and then snorted with satisfaction. He -rose and started after the woman, only halting in the doorway to say: - -“It’s a good idea, all right. You wait here until I come back.” - -Moments like these test the temper of the deaf man’s steel. He had -evidently stirred up a violent tumult, but he has no idea what it is -about and when or where it will boil over. The troubled agent sat by the -window and looked out at a savage bulldog which had come from behind the -house and was now waiting in the path with something like a sneer on his -brutal face, expressing: - -“Here I am, on duty. Come and get yours! I need a new toothbrush, and -your coat is just what I have been looking for.” - -And then back came the man, smiling like a May morning. - -“Here, let me have the book. I’ll take two copies. Never had anything do -me so much good. Why, sir, I’ve been courting that fine woman for ten -years, and neither one of us could ever get up to the point, leap year -or any other. Then you come along and make that break about calling her -my wife. That did the business, sure—pushed us right into the river. I -just chased right after her and caught her in the kitchen. ‘Ain’t it the -truth?’ says I. ‘And if it ain’t, let’s make it so.’ And all she said -was: ‘Oh, William, I’m so happy—go right in and tell him to stay to -dinner.’ Say, give me that pencil. I’ll sign up for three copies while -I’m at it.” - -Looking through the window, the agent saw that the bulldog was -listening, and he must in some way have understood, for he shook himself -and walked mournfully back to the barn. - -If lifelong practice will bring perfection in the art of communicating -with the deaf, my daughter ought to be an expert. Her experience shows -something of the magnitude of the job. This young woman and her mother -attended a reception at the Old Ladies’ Home. There was to be a very -fine musical program, and the elder lady, as one of the managers, -appointed her daughter a scout to see that all the old ladies came in -to hear the music. This energetic scout found one sweet-faced inmate -waiting patiently in her room, even after the entertainment had started. - -“Can you hear the music?” - -The young woman knows how to talk to the deaf, and she did her best. - -“What?” - -“Are you not coming to hear the music?” - -The words were carefully separated, and shouted close to the ear. - -“Hey, who’s sick? I’m sure I don’t know.” - -The old lady heard one sound clearly, and twisted it into the wrong -word. - -“Of course, you went on and explained the thing carefully to her,” I -suggested. - -“No, I did not. I just changed the subject, and told her it was a fine -day.” - -And that, I take it, is typical of much of the effort to interpret life -to the deaf. We can always tell them that it is a fine day. The old lady -sat contentedly in the silence, unaware of the fact that near at hand -the orchestra was working gloriously through what the local paper called -a “fine musical program.” The chances are that she was better off in the -silence. Most of us hear too much, anyway. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -“THE WHISPERING WIRE” - - Telephone Difficulties—Seeing and Believing—Bell - and the First Telephone—Choosing Intermediaries by - Professions and Appearance—When the Bartender Beat the - Preacher and the Farmer—The Prohibition Convention—The - Hebrew Drummer as a Satisfactory Proxy. - - -Often I wonder if those who make such glib use of the telephone can -possibly realize what it means to be unable to operate it at all. I -see my wife with the instrument at her ear bowing and smiling to some -invisible talker some miles away. Sometimes I ask why she should smile, -frown, or nod, to some one over in the next county, and though she has -never given a satisfactory answer, I take it that the mere sound of the -human voice is enough to excite most of the emotions. This commonplace -affair, as a matter of course conveying audible sound over long -distance, becomes to the deaf marvelous, a contrivance almost uncanny. - -The woman who brought me up was very deaf, and, like many of us who live -in the silence, very narrow and most inquisitive. On Winter evenings -she would often read aloud to us chapters from Isaiah describing some -of the wonders which that poet and visionary predicted for the future. -Then she would give her own version of the account, while her husband -nodded in his chair and I was busied with my own dreams. I now wonder -what would have happened if I had told her that some day a man would -stand in the city of Boston with a small instrument at his ear and -would hear a person in San Francisco talking in an ordinary tone of -voice. At that time there was not even a railroad across the continent. -West of Omaha was a wild Indian country, filled with cactus and alkali -water. The folly of talking about delivering coherent sound across -that waste! I have heard of a missionary who went to the interior of -Africa and lived there with a pagan tribe. He told them stories of life -in the temperate zone, and while they could not understand, they made -no objection and politely listened. Finally he told them that at one -season of the year the water froze—that it became so hard that people -could walk on it. Here was something tangible; they understood water. -The statement that people could walk on it was a lie, of course, and -they threatened to kill the liar. Another man, a Vermonter, went to the -Island of Java and married a native woman. He told her about buckwheat -cakes and maple syrup in the Green Mountain State, and she would not -believe him. Finally she came to regard him as a deceiver. He wrote me -for help, and I sent him a sack of buckwheat flour and a can of syrup. -They made a journey half around the world, but at last the Vermonter -cooked a batch of pancakes which quite restored him to favor. The deaf -and the deficient are likewise hard to convince unless the evidence is -put before them in terms of their own understanding. If I had presented -my humble amendment to the prophecies of Isaiah, I think it would have -been decided that I possessed an evil spirit of the variety which may be -exorcised by a hickory stick. - -Later, as a young man, I saw Alexander Graham Bell working with the -first telephone—a short line between Osgood’s publishing house in -Boston and the University Press in Cambridge. It seemed then more of a -toy than a device of practical value, and as I remember him, Bell was -a rather shabby inventor. His messages were mostly a loud shouting of: -“Hello! Hello! Can you understand me?” - -Beginnings are rarely impressive or attractive, and the actual pioneer -seldom recognizes himself as such. I saw one of the great men of Boston -stand and laugh at Bell’s clumsy machine and at his efforts to make it -work. - -“Bell,” he said, “it isn’t even a good plaything. I’ll agree to write -a letter, walk to Cambridge with it, walk back with the answer and get -here long before you can ever get a reply with that thing.” - -And Bell looked up from his apparent failure with a smile of confidence. - -“I will make it work. The principle is right. We will find the way. The -time will come when this boy here will be able to talk with anyone in -any part of New England without raising his voice above an ordinary -tone.” - -And as a boy I thought that if I could ever face criticism and ridicule -with such confidence, the world, or at least as much of it as is worth -while, would be mine. I had faith in what Bell told us, and looked -forward to the day when his words would come true. The prophecy has been -more than fulfilled for others, but for us of the silence the telephone -remains a mystery which others must interpret for us. Yet somehow I feel -as confident as Bell that in some way out of our affliction will come a -new means of communication between humans which will make the silence an -enviable abiding-place. - -My children have become greatly interested in radio communication. As -I write this one of my boys is developing a crude outfit with which -he actually takes sound waves from the air and translates them into -music or speech. People tell me of great concerts and speeches sent -through the air for hundreds of miles. Tonight thousands of country -people, seated in their own homes, are listening while this marvelous -instrument reaches up into the air and brings down treasures of sound -until it seems as though the speaker or singer were in the next room. We -deaf can readily understand what all this will mean for the future; it -will undoubtedly do more than the automobile toward bringing humanity -together and grouping the peoples of the world in thought and pleasure. -Yet how little it will mean to us! It may even be an added cross, for -evidently both pleasure and the business of the future are to depend -more and more upon the ability to hear well. - -I can remember as though it were yesterday the day that Lincoln was -assassinated. I was a small youngster, but the event was printed into my -brain. I know that news of this world-shaking event passed but slowly -out into the country. There were lonely farms out among the hills where -farmers did not know of Lincoln’s death for days. There was no way of -quick communication. I thought of that during the last deciding baseball -game between the Giants and the Yankees. Seated in our farmhouse beside -his little radio ’phone, my boy could even hear the crack of the bat -against the ball. He could hear the roaring of the crowd and the growl -of “Babe” Ruth when the umpire called him out on strikes. And all this -marvellous change has come about during my life! You may perhaps imagine -the feelings of the deaf when they realize that they are shut away from -such wonderful things. - -But modern life is so efficiently strung upon wires that even the deaf -must at times make use of the telephone. Some of our experiences in -selecting proxies to represent us at the wire are worth recording. -Every deaf man who takes even a small part in modern business must make -some use of the ’phone or be helplessly outdistanced in the race. In -the West they tell of a Mexican who wanted to get a message to his -sweetheart. They offered him his choice between the telegraph and the -telephone, and explained the difference. He chose the telephone without -hesitation, for he “wanted no man in between.” The deaf man must have -some one “in between,” and usually it is a matter of nice judgment to -choose the person to occupy that position. From choice the deaf will -take the telegram; they can read it, and the fact that each word costs -a certain sum of money means a brief message. If telephone messages -were paid for in the same way, all the world would gain in brevity of -expression, or else the income taxes of telephone companies would soon -pay the national debt. - -It is remarkable how a deaf person with good eyes comes to be an expert -at estimating character by appearance or actions. I find that we -unconsciously analyze habits or manners, and group the possessors with -some skill. Let a man come to me and write out his questions, and I am -very sure that I can tell his business. A doctor accustomed to writing -prescriptions frames his questions slowly and stops at the end of each -sentence to make sure of the next one. A bookkeeper writes mechanically, -and seldom prepares an original question. A grocer or a drygoods clerk, -accustomed to writing down orders, betrays his occupation by certain -flourishes with the pencil when he tries to write out a question, just -as he is seized with a desire to rub his hands together during a sale. -One would think that a lawyer would be very successful at this task. He -usually fails. I have appeared as witness in several lawsuits, and able -lawyers have completely lost their efficiency (and their patience) in -trying to cross-examine me. Should any deaf person who reads this be -called to the witness chair, my advice would be absolutely to refuse to -answer any question that is not written out and first read by the judge. -His examination will not become tedious. To the lawyer who desires -a clear, straight story from a deaf person, I should say make the -questions short and clear. Have most of them typewritten beforehand, and -keep good-natured. A deaf man who knows the resources of his affliction -can become expert at concealing evidence. - -Many men tell me that they finally estimate a man’s power and character -by the quality and tone of his voice. The substitute knowledge or -“instinct” which we gain through observation is nowhere more useful -than in selecting telephone proxies from strangers. Take this man -with the stiff neck and erect shoulders. Where shall we draw the line -between stupid obstinacy and firm character? Here is this shambling -and shuffling person. Does his manner denote a weak, nerveless will, -and inability to concentrate his mind, or is it merely superficial, -easy-going good nature, when at heart he is capable of flashing out in -anger or taking a bold stand? The fellow who keeps his hands in his -pocket and the other who constantly waves them about—a deaf man may -well beware when either approach him. And what of the man who seems to -be continually looking for post, tree or wall against which he may lean? -We come to know them all. - -Some years ago I chanced to be in a small Alabama town, among people I -had never seen before. My mission was a delicate one, demanding keen -judgment and careful diplomacy. It became absolutely necessary for me to -communicate promptly and privately with my wife, who at the time was on -a steamship somewhere off Cape Hatteras. I could not use a telephone, -but I found a man whom I could trust. So I telegraphed to Charleston and -instructed my wife to call a certain ’phone number in this Alabama town. -The message was repeated by wireless, and far off on the wind-blown -ocean it reached the ship and was delivered. When the good lady reached -Charleston she called up the number I had given, delivered her message -to good ears, and it was turned over to me accurately in writing. One -can readily see how tragic it would be if the interpreter for the deaf -man chanced to be careless or criminal, for I should regard it as no -less than a criminal act for one purposely to deceive a deaf person. I -have employed strangers of all colors and conditions in this position -of trust, and it is pleasant to think that most of them have been -efficient and true in the emergencies. For it _is_ an emergency when -one is suddenly called upon to act as interpreter in the affairs of a -stranger. This matter of using the telephone has become so simple to -most people that it is hard to realize the dire complications it may -involve for the deaf. - -Once I was delegated to meet my sister and daughter at the old Long -Island ferry in New York. They had spent the day on the island, and were -to come back at night. Before the Pennsylvania Railroad dug its tunnels -under the East River passengers came across from Long Island City at -Thirty-fourth street. The landing and the transfer to street-cars was a -jumble at best. It was about the easiest place in the world to miss your -friends in daylight, while in the evening, under the dim lights, hunting -for human express packages was much like going through a grab-bag. My -passengers did not arrive. There was no sign of them anywhere among -the masses of humans which boat after boat poured out. I began to be -worried, for neither of them had been over the route before. I found -that the train they had named had arrived on time. Either they had not -come or the great city had swallowed them. It was plainly a case where -the telephone became a necessity, but I could not go to the nearest -’phone and call up the friends with whom they had been staying. I had -to find some proxy who would deliver my message and give me an honest -report. All this was serious business at a time when the papers were -full of stories of abductions and insults to girls. Whom could I trust -in such a situation? - -I looked about, and finally decided to appeal to a man who resembled -a Methodist minister. At least, he wore a black coat, a white tie, -and had adorned his face with a pair of “burnsides.” Also, I caught a -gesture—a spreading out of the hands—which seemed to say: “Bless you, -my children!” So, as an occasional occupant of the pews, I confidently -approached the pulpit. - -“My friend, can I ask you to use the telephone for me?” - -I learned then how slight a contraction of the facial muscles may change -a beneficent smile into a snarl. - -“Why don’t you do it yourself?” I could see the words and the unpleasant -frown. “Are you too lazy?” - -I tried to explain the situation and show him that I could not hear; but -he took no trouble to grasp my predicament. Several women had stopped -to listen, and were smiling. I have learned that no man who wears white -vest and tie can feel that women are laughing at him and retain his -dignity. So my clerical gentleman turned on his heel and walked away. - -“I have no time to bother!” - -No doubt, he was right. He could preach the Christian religion, but had -no time to practice it. It has always been my blessed privilege to see -the humor of a trying situation. That dignified exit made me think of -the deaf woman who lived in our old town. One day a stranger called, -said he was a retired minister, and asked her to board him a week free -of charge, so that he might “meditate over the follies of human life.” -She refused, and he became quite insistent. He roared in her ear: - -“Be careful, now, lest ye entertain an angel unawares!” - -She was quick to reply: - -“I’m deaf, but I’m reasonably acquainted with the Lord, and I know He -won’t send no angel to my house with a cud of tobacco in his mouth.” - -After failing with the ministry, I approached a man who looked like a -substantial farmer—a man apparently with some sense of humor, though I -judged him to be a bit stubborn. - -“Sir, I need your help. I must find someone to telephone for me. My -sister and daughter are in the country, and—” - -That was as far as I could go with him. He put one hand on his pocket as -if to make sure of his wallet, and waved the other at me. - -“No, you don’t! I’m no ‘come-on.’ None of your bunco games on me. -That story is too old; I’ve heard it before. Get out or I’ll call the -police!” - -I think the last sermon I ever heard was preached from the text, “And -they all, with one accord, began to make excuses.” - -Unfortunately, the preacher had never been deaf, so he did not develop -all the possibilities of that text. But these rebuffs did not discourage -me; they are only part of the “social service” which the deaf must -expect. These men merely lacked the imagination needed to show them -the pleasure which would surely come from doing a kindly act. They had -declined opportunity. - -Near the station was a saloon. It was a warm night, and the door was -open. I had just been offered the nomination for Congress on the -Prohibition ticket in my home district. Of course, a Prohibition -statesman has no business inside a saloon; but I paused at the door -and looked in. A pleasant-faced, red-haired Irishman stood behind the -bar, serving a glass of beer to a customer. I have always believed in -experimenting with extremes. By hitting both ends one generally finds a -soft spot at the middle. I was on a desperate quest, and, having been -rejected by the pulpit and the plow, I was willing to approach the bar. -So I entered the “unholy place.” The bartender ran an appraising eye -over me, and like a good salesman asked: - -“What’ll it be—a beer? Or you likely need some of the hard stuff to -brace you up?” - -“No; I want to find an honest man who will telephone for me. I cannot -hear well, and I must have help. Can you do it?” - -“Sure I can, me friend, sure! ’Tis me job to serve the people. I’m very -sorry for ye, and ye can borry me ears and welcome. Here, Mike! You run -the bar while I help this gentleman find his friends.” - -And he did the job well. I wrote out my message and he went into the -booth with it. Through the glass I saw him nodding his head and waving -his hands in explanation. He came out all smiles. - -“Sure, and it’s all right. They missed the train through stopping too -long to eat. They’re on their way now safe and sound, and happy as -larks—and due in half an hour. They’d have let ye know, but couldn’t -tell where to reach ye!” - -And he would have nothing but the regular toll for the service. But he -put his hand on my shoulder and said: - -“Happy to meet ye. It’s a pleasure to serve such as ye. Come, now, and -_have something_ on me!” - -And right there I came as near accepting a drink as I ever did in my -life. But there is one thing I _did_ do. I declined the honor of running -for Congress on the Prohibition ticket after receiving that kindly -Christian service from a saloonkeeper. - -I told this story to a missionary who had spent much of his life among -rough-and-ready customers. His comment was: - -“Many a hog will put on a white necktie, and many a saint will wear a -flannel shirt, and one not overly clean at that. The best judge of a -necktie is the hangman, and the final judgment over the boiled shirt is -made at the washtub. He who sells beer brewed in charity is a better man -than he who delivers sermons stuffed with cant and selfishness.” - -I presume he is right, but how can a deaf man distinguish the virtues -and vices of the dispenser of selfish sermons from those of the -dispenser of charitable beer—when he cannot hear the sermons and -declines to taste the beer? However, since that night I have not been -able to trust the combination of white vest and necktie and a taste for -“burnsides.” - -My experience with this variety of costume had begun years before, -when I happened to be a receptive candidate for Governor of New Jersey -on this same Prohibition ticket. My boom never developed beyond that -receptive stage, but I started for the convention feeling well disposed -toward myself—as I presume all candidates do. At Trenton I had to hunt -for the convention hall, and, as usual, tried to select the proper guide -from his appearance. On a street corner stood a portly, well-filled -gentleman, wearing a suit of solemn black, with a beard to match; also -there was the white necktie and the voluminous white vest. In truth, he -was a prosperous grocer come to town to marry his third wife, but to me -he looked like the chairman of the coming convention. - -“Can you tell me where the convention is to be held?” - -“What convention?” - -“Why, the State Prohibition convention. I thought you were a brother -delegate.” - -“Brother nothing.” - -“But where is it to be held?” - -He muttered something that was lost in that black beard. I could not get -it, and finally held out my notebook and pencil. He stared at me for a -moment, and then wrote—about as he would enter an order of salt fish -for Mrs. Brown: - -“The Lord knows. I don’t.” - -It was a shock to my boom, the first of many it received that day. For a -moment depression came over me. Then philosophy came to my aid and gave -me the proper answer. - -“Well, if the Lord really knows, I guess it doesn’t make so much -difference whether you do or not! It is better to trust in the Lord.” - -I left him staring after me. It is doubtful if he ever got the full -sense of the incident, but I have always remembered it. - -It is one of my landmarks along the road to silence. For if the Lord -designs that the deaf man shall reach the convention, all the powers -of prejudice and selfishness cannot keep him away. I finally found a -bootblack who gave me the proper directions. - -One Winter’s night I found myself in the railroad station of a small -New England town, waiting for a belated train. A blizzard was raging -outside, with the mercury in the thermometer close to zero. My train -was far up in Vermont, four hours behind time, feebly plowing through -snowdrifts. In order to obtain a berth and comfortable passage for New -York on that train it was necessary to ’phone Springfield and have the -agent there catch the train at some stopping place up country to make -arrangements. Perhaps a prudent deaf man should have given up the effort -and remained in that little town overnight. But I have found that the -deaf, even more than others, need the constant stimulus of attempting -the difficult or impossible. - -It was necessary to find some honest proxy at once. The ticket agent had -closed his office and gone home. The array of available talent spread -before me on the seats was not, at first sight, promising. A German -Socialist had fallen asleep after a violent discussion about the war. -There was an Irishman who gave full evidence to at least three senses -that he did not favor prohibition enforcement. A fat, good-natured -looking colored man with a stupid moon face and a receding chin sprawled -over one of the wooden benches. An Italian woman, surrounded by several -great packages, was holding a sleeping child. There were two ladies -of uncertain age, who evidently belonged to that unmistakable class of -society—the New England old maid. At one side, figuring out his day’s -sales of cigars and notions, was a typical Hebrew drummer, a little -rat-faced man with hooked nose, low, receding forehead, and bald head -and beady eyes. - -Now, if you had been the deaf man, forced to depend on one of these -agents to arrange for a sleeping place, which one would you have chosen? -The negro was too stupid, the German too belligerent, the Irishman would -have tried to bully Springfield, and who could think of asking the -stern-faced ladies to discuss such a matter? I selected the drummer as -the most promising material. - -“Sure, I get it,” he said, when I gave him a statement of what I -wanted. He disappeared inside the telephone booth, where I soon saw -him gesticulating and shrugging his shoulders as he talked rapidly. He -looked around at me, and with my slight knowledge of lip-reading, I -could make out: - -“This is a great man what asks this. You must help him out.” - -Soon he came rushing out holding up one finger. - -“It cost you one dollar!” - -I paid him and back he went to his conversation. Before long he emerged -with a paper, on which he had written the name of the car, the number -of my berth, the name of the conductor, and the time of the train’s -arrival. It was all there. How he did it I have never been able to tell. -It was a marvel of speedy, skilful work. - -I seldom find such an efficient proxy, but through long experience one -becomes able to select some stranger with patience enough to attempt -the job. One man who seemed fairly intelligent completely twisted my -message, and put me to no end of trouble. Once a woman deliberately -misrepresented me, but I was saved by a good Samaritan who stood by, -heard part of the discussion, and set me right. - -Sometimes in public places the telephone operator will send the message -and report the answer, but it seems unfair to ask such service. A very -dignified gentleman once asked a stranger to telephone for him, and was -answered thus: - -“Why not go and visit with the ‘hello girl’ over there?” - -Being deaf, he lost one important syllable of the adjective, and -something of his dignity in consequence. Never select a person without -imagination as proxy for the deaf. In the city the colored porters who -are found about public places are usually excellent telephone agents; -colored waiters I have also found good. They are good-natured and -imaginative, usually intelligent, and always wonderfully faithful. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -“NO MUSIC IN HIMSELF” - - Music—Beethoven in the Silent World—And Milton—Our - Emotional Desert—Dream Compensation—The “Sings” in the - Old Farmhouse, and the “Rest” for the Weary—The Drunken - Irish Singer in the Barber Shop. - - - “The man that hath no music in himself, - Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds - Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; - The motions of his spirit are dull as night, - And his affections dark as Erebus. - Let no such man be trusted.” - -This passage always reminds me of the colored man who went to church -to hear the new minister’s trial sermon. The preacher was fond of -quotations, and among others he gave an old favorite in new guise: - -“He who steals my purse is po’ white trash!” - -One of the elders of the church immediately jumped up and interrupted: - -“Say, brother, where you done git that idee at?” - -“Dat, sar, am one ob the immortal, thoughtful gems of William -Shakespeare.” - -“Well, sar,” came in rich tones from the gentleman who had come to -criticise the sermon, “my only remark am: _Amen, Shakespeare!_” - -Shakespeare certainly did not have the citizens of the silent world in -mind when he wrote that, but we deaf are often moved to say _Amen_. -Stratagems are somewhat out of our line, since they require good ears -to carry them through, but otherwise this is a perfect description of -what the lack of music may mean to us. It is our greatest loss. We may -rise in imagination above many deprivations, but we can never forget -the sinister fate which keeps from our ears forever the beauty of the -singing voice and the vibrating string. - - “Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. - To soften rocks or bend the knotted oak.” - -Probably Congreve was drawing on his imagination entirely, especially -as it is not likely that he ever encountered a genuine savage; but -a deaf man with a natural love for music could have given him full -understanding and appreciation of its mighty power. And, on the other -hand, the silent life becomes drab and cold without the sweet tones of -harmony. In this respect I think the man who was born deaf has less to -regret than he who has known music only to lose it. - -One of the most wretchedly pathetic figures in human history was -Beethoven when he became convinced that he was losing his hearing. He -realized at last that the melodies which meant all of life to him were -passing from him with ever-increasing rapidity. He must have watched -them go as a condemned man might see the sands dropping through the -hourglass. For Beethoven was sadly deficient in the needed equipment -of one who must enter the silent world. He had nothing but his music. -There was no remaining solace. The deaf Beethoven does not present an -heroic picture; he seems like a man cast upon a desert island without -the instinct or the ability to search intelligently for food and water. -There can be nothing more tragic than the fate of such a man thrown into -alien conditions which demand skill and courage of a high order, who yet -stands helpless through grief or terror. Compare Beethoven’s unmitigated -despair with Milton’s heroic serenity: - - “Who best - Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state - Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, - And post o’er land and ocean without rest; - They also serve who only stand and wait.” - -But here we also see something of the different effects upon character -of the two afflictions. The blind are more cheerful than the deaf. Some -of their cheerfulness comes through the ability to hear music; the -courage comes through their inability to _see_ the danger. - -When we deaf are adapting our lives to the inevitable we are surprised -to find the number of new handles life really presents. We have been -forced to look for them, and we can find new interests to give us a -fresh hold upon life. Yet there is nothing we can do, there is no -thought, philosophy or mental training that will ever be anything but a -poor substitute for music. - -Perhaps the most peculiar sensation in all our affliction comes when -we sit in a room where skilled musicians are playing, and observe the -effect of sound upon our companions. They are moved to laughter or -tears. Their eyes brighten, their hands are clenched, or are beating -time to the music; their faces flush as waves of emotion sweep over -them. To us it seems most commonplace. We can merely see nimble fingers -dancing over the piano keys or touching the strings of the violin. -Perhaps we see the singer opening and shutting her mouth—much as she -would eat her food—and this is all we know. The mechanical processes -may even be grotesque. So far as any effect upon our emotions may be -considered, the flying fingers might as well be sewing or knitting, the -mouth might be talking the ordinary platitudes of conversation. The -thrill is not for us. Large audiences rise while “America” is being sung -or played—men and women listen with bowed heads. I stand up with them, -but I hear no sound. I feel a thrill—for it is _my_ country, too; yet -can I be blamed for feeling that life has denied me the power to be as -deeply stirred with that great emotion, and has given me no substitute? -The mighty charms which may “soften rocks or bend the knotted oak” are -made powerless by the little bones which have grown together inside my -ear, and they are the smallest bones in the body. - -I have talked with deaf persons about their conception of heaven. What -will be the physical sensation when what we call “life” is finally -stolen away? I have given much thought to that. Most deaf people tell me -without hesitation that, according to their great hope and belief, some -great burst of music will suddenly be borne in upon them when: - -“The casement slowly grows a glimmering square.” - -They can conceive of no greater joy or reward; no existence more sublime -than that which is filled with the noblest music. - -Partial compensation for the longing and its denial comes with the music -that we hear in dreams. The brain treasures up the desires of our waking -hours, and attempts to satisfy them during sleep. I knew of a man who -had lived a wild, sunny life in the open air. He was thrown into prison -unjustly, and was held in a dark cell for weeks. He was able to endure -this because, as he said, he had for years “soaked up all possible -sunshine.” The sun’s energy had been “canned in his system,” and it -carried him through his trouble. So may the deaf man be cheered after -he enters the silent world if in his youth he was able to “soak up” his -full share of music. It was my privilege as a boy to serve as “supe” -or stage-hand at a theater, where I heard most of the great operas. -The memory of that music has remained with me all through these long -years. Sometimes I am tempted to sing one of those wonderful songs to my -children. I presume there are few objects more ridiculous to a musician -than a deaf man trying to sing. My people may well smile at my painful -efforts (though the children do not, until they become worldly-wise), -but they will never understand unless they become exiled to the silent -land what such remembered music really means. But I must wait for -dreams, wherein all outside conventions and inhibitions are thrown off, -to give me the perfect rendition of remembered melodies. - -There was an old farmer who used to scold his daughter because she would -spend five dollars of her money for an occasional trip to the city, -where she could hear famous singers. - -“Why,” said he, “what nonsense, what folly to spend five dollars for -only two short hours of pleasure.” - -But he did not realize that the money was paying for a memory which -would remain with the girl all her life. I would, if I could, have a -child soak his soul full of the noblest music that human power can give -him. - -In a fair analysis of the situation even the advantages of being deaf -to music should be stated. I am not asked to listen while little Mary -plays her piece on the piano. No one primes little Tommy to sing “Let -me like a soldier fall” for my benefit. I am not required to render -any opinion regarding the musical ability of those hopefuls. I am told -that such musical criticism has developed some most remarkable liars, -chiefly, I fancy, among the young men who are particularly interested -in little Mary’s older sister. I am also informed that some of the -singing to which you must listen is rather calculated to rouse the -savage breast than to soothe it. Once I spent the night at a country -house where, long after honest people should have been abed, a company -of young men drove out from town to serenade the young lady daughter. I -slept through it all, from “Stars of the Summer Night” to “Good Night, -Ladies!” The father of the serenaded one was a very outspoken business -man, whose word carried far, and he assured me that I was to be envied, -for the “quartette of calves” kept him awake for hours. He wanted -someone to give them more rope. “Why,” said this critical parent, “you -should have heard these softheads sing ‘How Can I Bear to Leave Thee?’ -I tried to make them understand that I could let them leave without -turning a hair.” Hand organs beneath the window, German bands blowing -wind, wandering minstrels of all kinds, may start waves of more or less -harmonious sound afloat, so that my sensitive friends go about with -fingers at their ears, while I have the pleasure of imagining that it -is angel music. But at the end of all this satisfactory reasoning I -shrug my shoulders and begin to figure what I would give if I could go -back through the years to one of the old “sings” in my uncle’s kitchen. -How I should like to bring back the night when the stranger from Boston -sang “Jesus, Lover of My Soul” to that beautiful air from “Norma.” - -However, if I could have my choice tonight of all the music I have ever -heard, I should go back to that lonely farmhouse beside the marsh. The -neighbors have come over the hill for a Sunday night “sing.” No lamps -are needed, for there is a fine blaze in the fireplace. There is snow -outside, and creepy, crackling sounds from the frost are in the timbers; -the moonlight sparkles over all. One of the girls sits at the little -melodeon. I’d give—well, what _can_ a man give—to hear old Uncle -Dwelly Baker sing “Rest for the Weary.” I can see him now sitting in -the big rocking-chair by the window. How his bald head and his white -whiskers shine in the moonlight! His eyes are shut, his spectacles have -been pushed to the top of his head. He rocks and rocks, singing: - - “On the other side of Jordan, - In the sweet fields of Eden, - Where the tree of Life is blooming, - There is rest for you.” - -And here we all come in on the chorus: - - “There is rest for the weary, - There is rest for the weary, - There is rest for the weary, - There is rest for you!” - -My reason for choosing this above all other music is that these people -in their dull, hard life were really weary, and they really found rest -in this song. - -Some years ago I went for a shave into a barber shop of a New England -city. I was to deliver an address, and somehow I have found nothing -more soothing to the nerves than to sink down into a chair while the -barber rubs in the lather and then scrapes it off. All this, of course, -is conditioned upon the sharpness of the razor and my inability to hear -the barber’s questions. I have often wondered if imaginative barbers -ever feel a desire to seize the victim by the throat and use the razor -like a carving-knife. Several of them have looked at me as though they -would enjoy doing this, and the thought has actually driven me to a -safety razor. But, at any rate, shortly before this speech was due I -went in for my shave. At that time I carried an electric instrument, a -sort of personal telephone, which enabled me to hear at least part of -conversations. It contained a small battery, a sound magnifier and an -ear piece. I hung this on a nail, threw my overcoat and hat over it, and -sat down for my shave when the boss barber motioned “next.” - -I think I must have drifted away in a half-dream while the barber went -over one side of my face. He was just brushing in the hot lather on the -other side when I suddenly became aware of a great commotion in the -shop. I straightened up with one side of my face well lathered, to find -a “spirit hunt” in progress. The barber stood with his brush in one -hand and an open razor in the other. Several men had armed themselves -with canes and umbrellas. A fierce-looking Irishman with a club was -stealthily approaching my overcoat as it hung on the nail. He raised -his club to strike a heavy blow. I jumped out of that chair as I fancy -a person would leave the electric chair if he were suddenly freed. I -caught him by the arm. - -“What are you spoiling my overcoat for?” - -“It’s a spirit. The devil himself. Hear him holler in there! Hark at -him! Do ye not hear thim groans?” - -Then it suddenly came to me what the “spirit” was. I had put my -“acousticon” or electric hearing device into its case without shutting -off the electric current. It was really a small telephone, and while -the current is on, the sound magnifier gathers the sounds in a room and -throws them out in a series of whistles, groanings and roarings. The -Irishman and his friends had finally located the “spirit” emitting these -noises under my coat, where it certainly was hiding. - -With the coating of lather still on my face, I took the coat down -and explained the instrument. The men listened like children as I -switched the current on and off, explained the dry cell battery, the ear -piece and the receiver. I let them try it at the ear until they were -satisfied—all but the Irishman. He looked at the machine for a moment -and then glanced at me and raised his voice: - -“Ye poor thing; ye don’t hear nothin’, do ye?” - -“Not much. I have the advantage of you, for you must listen to -everybody. I don’t have to. I am sure you have heard things today you -were sorry to hear.” - -“Ain’t that right now? But don’t nobody ever come and bawl ye out?” - -“No; not even my wife, for, you see, her throat would give out before my -ears would give in. Bawling out a deaf man is no joke for the bawler!” - -“Well, it’s good to be delivered from the women; they have tongues like -a fish-hook, ’tis true. But don’t ye hear no good music?” - -“No; I have not heard natural music for years; the little that comes to -me seems to have some tin-pan drumming in it.” - -“But, say, mister, don’t ye hear no good music in your dreams? I ask ye -that now—as man to man. Have ye no singing dreams?” - -“Yes, that is the strangest part of it. While I am asleep music often -comes to me, such music as, I am sure, mortal rarely hears. It seems to -me like music far beyond this world.” - -“Ah, but don’t ye hate to wake up and leave that music behind ye? Don’t -ye hate to come back to life, where ye hear no sound? Ain’t it terrible -to think God has forsaken ye by shutting out music? Wouldn’t ye rather -be dead when ye might sleep forever with music in your ears?” - -“No; for God has not forsaken me. I have my work to do in the world, and -I must do it. I will not run away from a thing like this. I will rise -above it. You see, I have friends. You are interested, and I know you -would help me if I needed help.” - -“Would I not, now? Just put that tail-piece to your ear.” - -I hesitated for a moment, but he repeated, sternly: - -“Put that tail-piece to your ear and let on the juice again right away.” - -With the cold lather still on my face, I put up the ear piece and turned -on the current. Then a beautiful thing happened. My Irish friend took -off his hat, put his mouth close to my receiver, and began to sing. He -had a beautiful tenor voice, and it came to me sweet and clear, while -the barber and the others gathered to listen. - - “Kathleen mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking, - The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill. - The lark from her gray wing the bright dew is shaking— - - Oh, Kathleen mavourneen,—what? lingering still? - Oh, hast thou forgotten, this day we must sever, - Oh, hast thou forgotten, this day we must part?” - -He sang it through—the sad, hopeless longing of a weary heart. “_It -may be for years, and it may be forever._” I glanced at the barber, and -saw him still with the open razor and the brush in his hands, while the -others stood about with heads bowed as they listened. And at the end of -the song my friend started another: - - “Come back to Erin, mavourneen, mavourneen, - Come back, Aroon, to the land of thy birth. - Come with the shamrocks of springtime, mavourneen, - And its Killarney shall ring with thy mirth!” - -I have often thought that to another deaf man we would have presented a -most ridiculous spectacle. By this time I had discovered that my musical -friend was by no means a prohibitionist; the breath which carried the -sweet sound had a flavor all its own. He had been tarrying with other -spirits besides the collection under my overcoat. I, still with the -thick smear of lather, diligently held the “tail-piece” to my ear; -the barber was scowling to hide his emotion, and with the open razor -he looked like a pirate. Yet I think there has never been such music -since the glorious night long ago when the angels’ song was heard by -men. You will smile at the extravagant language of a deaf man who has -no other music for comparison. Yet I think you never heard anything -like this. No doubt you have listened at the opera or at church while -some golden-voiced singer poured out marvelous melody. Ah, it could not -compare With the soft, tender voice which came to my dull ears in that -dim-lighted barber shop. For this man out of the troubles of his own -life put all the sorrow, all the yearning, all the tender hopelessness -of an imaginative race into its native songs. And with this came the -glow of feeling that he was doing a kindly deed for an unfortunate -person. - -As he sang I saw it all; the sunshine splintering on the white cliffs, -the sparkle of the little streams, the grassy meadows, the heavenly blue -sky over all. And there was the heavy, muttering ocean with the glitter -of the sun on its face. I thought of the thousands who had bravely -passed over it seeking a distant home, but loyal in their hearts to the -old green hills. - - “Come back to Erin, mavourneen, mavourneen!” - -We were carried back, and for the moment all the troubles and -afflictions were forgotten. I saw tears in the eyes of the barber. The -others shuffled their feet, and one found it necessary to blow his nose. -And then—the song ended, and I was back on earth with only the old -dull roaring in my ears, and a mass of lather on my face. I thought the -Irishman turned sadly away. - -“I cannot tell you, my friend, how much that means to me. It seems to -me the most beautiful human music I ever heard. What can I do to repay -you?” - -“Nothing—it was only a neighborly deed, what any man should do with his -poor gift. You cannot pay me. ’Tis only from love of the music and of -helping that I did it.” - -“But who are you—with such a voice?” - -“I’m a poor Irishman, half-drunk now, ye see. I cannot sing without -whiskey. I make me living at vaudeville, and the movies is bad for the -business. I sing funny songs—some of them nasty. I know it’s a bad -living, but sometimes, like now, I love the best old songs. But on the -stage—” He shrugged. - -“But tonight, instead of singing your comic songs, go on the stage and -sing as you have done for me. It would be wonderful.” - -“No, they’d get a hook and pull me off. You don’t understand. The people -who come to hear me have got to laugh or die. Their lives are too hard. -They must laugh and forget it. Make them _think_ and cry and they would -go crazy. That is where you folks go wrong on us. You say to _think_ -and work out of our troubles—but sorrow is always with us, and we must -laugh or we shall drink and die.” - -Then came the reception committee on the run for me, for my time on the -program had come and the speaker who was to hold the stage until I came -had already repeated part of his speech three times. The barber finished -shaving me, and I went my way; but I shall always remember my Irish -singer and his philosophy. - -“_A man in trouble must either laugh or die._” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -SILENCE NOT ALWAYS GOLDEN - - Looking Wise and Saying Nothing—Passing Encouragement - Around—The Critic and the Short Skirts—The “Lion” and - the Honest Deaf Man—How Reputation and the Deaf Man - Overtook the Hon. Robt. Grey—The Simultaneous Blessings - at the Dinner-table—Jealousy and Mrs. Brewster. - - -It has been said of a Cape Cod man that if he will tell where he comes -from, _look wise_ and say nothing, he will pass as a person of fine -intellect. Much the same is true of the deaf man. He is too apt to talk -all the time, or else to say nothing—and sometimes he does both at -once. Many of us betray the shoals of our mind and our shallow waters of -thought by talking too much. The Yankee is naturally inquisitive. He has -injured his position in history by asking too many useless questions. -Unfortunately, this is also the failing of too many of the deaf. Instead -of realizing that the choicest bits of conversation are reserved for -them, they persist in trying to borrow the dross. Cardinal Wolsey’s -outburst of bitter self-reproach would be a valuable memory gem for us: - - “I charge thee, fling away ambition. - By that crime fell the angels.” - -Here we must part with the foolish ambition to deal in small talk. The -surest way for us to become social nuisances is constantly to demand the -details of current conversation, and some of our worst embarrassments -come when some well-meaning, loud-voiced person diligently relays to us -the trivial remarks. For be it known that the bubbles of words which -work up from the feeble fermenting of shallow thoughts are usually stale -and unprofitable. And many a deaf person has passed an hour of agony in -company smiling and pretending to enjoy conversation which might as well -be carried on in Europe, as far as his understanding goes. A student of -lip-reading can find much amusing practice in such situations, but it -is far better for the rest of us to say frankly that we cannot hear the -talk, and then retire from the field with a book. - -Every deaf person who possesses even a trace of humor can tell how -he or she has passed as an important personage by looking wise and -saying nothing. On several occasions I have played the part of -intelligent critic with some success. I can sit on the front seat at -a lecture or a concert, look intently at the speaker or singer, smile -and frown at the right places in the program, and make an effort to -look wise. The performer soon comes to think that he has at least one -very keen and appreciative listener, and soon he aims the best points -at me. Of course, we all know how the heart and spirit glow in the -face of evident appreciation. I do not hear a sound, but I present -the appearance of the mighty rock in the weary land of inattentive -listeners. I have even had the susceptible artist hunt me out -afterwards, evidently seeking some delicate compliment—for who is proof -against such desires? However, I keep out of the way, for it would never -do for him to find that the appreciative hearer is a deaf man. A friend -of mine, working on the same principle of passing encouragement around, -keeps an eye open for deaf men or those who seem discouraged, and when -he meets some one who seems to be losing his grip, he gives a military -salute. When his children criticise such a performance, he says: - -“Why not? It makes him feel good. It inoculates his pride. He goes on -his way thinking that perhaps after all he may be somebody, since that -‘distinguished-looking man’ recognized him!” - -There is a sorry old joke that I have played repeatedly on vain or -inquisitive people. I worked it off on my friend, Brown, three times -running. Brown is the type of fellow who is much in love with his own -voice. They tell me that he can deliver a fair speech, but that he -spoils the effect by making it quite evident that he is casting pearls, -and that lack of proper appreciation classes the audience with a -well-known suggestion of the New Testament. I have never heard Brown’s -words, but his actions speak loudly to a deaf man. So I wait until he -begins to describe some oratorical triumph and then start on him. - -“Great! I know a man down town who would gladly pay five hundred dollars -to hear you speak. Thus far he has not been able to hear you.” - -Brown absorbs the compliment with the air of a man well accustomed to -such little tributes. But I know how his mind is working, and, sure -enough, soon he rises to the bait. - -“By the way, what did you say about that man who is anxious to hear me -speak?” - -“I said that there is a very intelligent man down town who says he would -give five hundred dollars to hear you speak. Thus far he has been denied -that privilege, but I think he means what he says.” - -“That’s good! No doubt some one who has heard me has told him about it. -I expect to speak at a banquet next week. Perhaps we could have this man -invited. I should be glad to give him pleasure.” - -“It certainly would give him great pleasure. I am sure he would travel -far to get within sound of your voice.” - -“By the way, I do not recall that you mentioned the name of this -gentleman.” - -“_He is a deaf man. He has not heard a sound for years! I know he would -give five hundred dollars to be able to hear you._” - -And then Brown refuses to speak to me for a month. He has no use for -these “funny men.” His vanity finally gets the best of him, however, -and a little later he “falls” for the same story with variations. You -can tell him of the man who would willingly give a thousand dollars -to see the great orator. Of course, he is blind. Then there is the -enthusiastic citizen who would gladly run a mile in order to join the -audience. He is a cripple with only one leg. Of course, these are -worn, old jokes, but the deaf man may be pardoned for indulging in the -old-timers if they help to offset some of his own blunders and mishaps. - -Let it be known, however, that we deaf never shine as critics where our -opinions will have weight. Some men, naturally strong and dominant, -reach high positions, where they have power over others, and they become -hard taskmasters because through their inability to hear they make too -many snap judgments and become too critical. They may be efficient, but -frequently it is a raw and brutal efficiency which accomplishes little -good. One very deaf man was invited to a meeting of a literary society -in a Western town. It seemed to be the only entertainment in town that -night, and though it was obviously no place for a deaf man, he went -along with his friends. We know how to amuse ourselves at such places. -We may not hear a word, but the mind can be kept active with some detail -of business, or a review or something we have read. This man applauded -and smiled with the rest. It is often a foolish performance, but we -invariably fall into it. By assuming a serious expression of countenance -whenever it was apparent that the program called for thought, this -man found himself being accepted as a wise critic. One young woman -was determined to attract the attention of the distinguished-looking -stranger. She read her essay with one eye on him, and he did his best to -look appreciative. When the literary exercises were over the chairman -called various leading citizens to discuss the meeting and criticise -the various performances. The young woman was anxious to hear a word -of praise from the visitor. So, at her suggestion, the president wrote -a note and passed it to the deaf man—a note suggesting that he give a -truthful criticism of at least one number. This fishing for compliments -is like other forms of angling; you never know what you are going to -catch. My friend protested and tried to explain, but there was no -escape. Being a man of some determination, and, moreover, with severe -old-fashioned ideas, he stood up and delivered his criticism: - -“My friends, I am no critic. Nature has made it necessary for me to -hear with my eyes, and I can offer but one suggestion. I may be wrong. -Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but it seems to me that if I had to walk -through life on such a pair of pipestems as I have seen tonight, they -would be the last thing in the world that I would take pride in -exhibiting. I’d wear a dress that would sweep the floor.” - -The company reserved their laughter until they were safe at home, but -with one accord everyone glanced at the short skirt of the literary -young woman. It is safe to say that she never again suggested an unknown -deaf man as critic of her literary efforts. - -Sometimes the deaf go fishing for compliments themselves, with very -disastrous results. We may wisely conclude that few bouquets will be -thrown in our direction. Even those which reach us may contain some -kind of hook concealed amid the flowers. Yet there was Henry Bascom, -very deaf, very vain, and filled with the almost criminal idea that he -could write poetry. He refused to work at his trade, for he felt that -his muse did not care to brush her skirts against overalls or working -clothes. His brother-in-law, a blunt, outspoken man, was growing weary -of “feeding lazy poets.” Once he roared out a protest, but Henry did -not get it straight, and hoped it was some sort of compliment. So he -insisted that his sister repeat it. But she hesitated. Finally she -temporized: - -“George merely said something about the great need of energy in the -world.” - -Of course, Henry should have known that there was explosive material -hidden in all this, but he only decided that something fine was being -kept away from him. So when George came home he began again: - -“George, I was much interested in what you said this morning. Won’t you -repeat it so that I can have it exact?” - -And George very willingly complied. He wrote the message carefully in -ink: - -“_I told Mary that if you belonged to me I would make you work even if -you bust a gut!_” - -Investigation will destroy illusion nine times out of ten. If you think -your friends are saying nice things about you, let it go at that. Take -my advice and let analysis of such doubtful remarks alone. Eight times -out of ten, for the deaf, it will lead to an explosion. - -And there was the deaf man who went to the reception with his wife and -daughter. Some remarkable literary lion had come to town, and the elite -had turned out to see him feed and hear him roar, if he could be induced -to perform. The deaf man, at his distance, watched the lion carefully -and felt that here was a kindred spirit. For back of the stereotyped -smile and the smug mask of conventionality there was another person, a -real human being, who had grown weary of the foolishness, and was eager -to get back into the wilderness, where outsiders, like the deaf and the -uncelebrated, may have their fling. - -But the women continued to parade themselves and their ideas before the -celebrity with an ostentation that was quite enough to rouse the ire of -a sensible dweller in the silence. This man held in as long as he could, -and then remarked to his wife in what he thought was a whisper: - -“Those silly girls make me very tired.” - -The entire company heard him, and the wife and daughter were deeply -mortified. They did manage to cut off the rest of his remarks, and -finally, exceedingly conscious that he had made a bad blunder, the deaf -man retreated to the porch to look at the stars. They are old friends -who never find fault when one stumbles over some woman-made rule of -society. And there came the lion, broken away temporarily from his -keepers, fumigating with a cigar some of the thoughts which his admirers -had aroused. He went straight to the deaf man and held out his hand. - -“My friend, you are the only honest man in this house. The _rest_ of us -are tired, but we lack the courage to admit it in public. How do you -come to be so brave?” - -Another deaf man went back to his old town after fifteen years’ absence. -They were about to hold a political convention to nominate a candidate -for Congress. The Hon. Robert Grey controlled most of the delegates. -No one in particular was enthusiastic about the Hon. Robert excepting -himself and his close friends, yet no one could quite summon the courage -to tell the truth about him. The deaf man arrived, and saw a large, -black-haired man dominating the stage. - -“Why,” he said, in what he intended to be a subdued tone, “there is Bob -Gray. He’s the man who stole the town funds while he was treasurer. -What’s he doing here? He should be in jail!” - -He had not gauged his voice correctly, and half the people in the hall -heard him. It was just what the rest had lacked the courage to say. The -deaf man, with his simplicity and directness, had penetrated into the -hiding place of the big issue of the campaign. His remark changed the -entire spirit of the convention, and the Hon. Robert Grey was left at -home. - -The deaf man is often laughed at for his blunders, but, unwittingly, -he has pricked many a bubble and exposed many a fraud through his -blunderings. Take the case of the young man who fancied the minister’s -daughter and went to church with her. The congregation was small, -and the collections were generally in line with the congregation. -The collector was a deaf man, a faithful attendant, who, as he said, -could not even hear the money drop into the box. Our young man took a -five-dollar gold piece out of his pocket and held it up so that the -minister’s daughter could see it and observe his great liberality. She -protested in a whisper: - -“Oh, that’s too much! I wouldn’t give that amount.” - -“Oh, that’s nothing. My usual habit is to give ten dollars, but I don’t -happen to have such a coin with me today.” - -So the bluffer waved her away, and really would have been able to -“get away with it” had it not been for the deaf man. When the box was -presented the young man deftly palmed his gold piece and dropped a penny -into the box. The organist played on through the offertory, and the deaf -man marched up the aisle with his contributions. The minister had tried -to tell him several times that it was not in good taste to report the -size of the contributions publicly, but the deaf man was a zealous soul, -and did not quite understand, so he carefully counted the amount found -in the box, and, just before the last hymn, he stood up in front of the -pulpit. - -“My friends, I want to announce that the contributions for the day -amount to $3.27. ‘The Lord loveth a cheerful giver.’” - -And the minister’s daughter, being rather good at mental arithmetic, -glanced at the young man, and fully understood. - -Dr. A. W. Jackson tells a story which all deaf men will appreciate. He -was invited to preach the sermon in a country church, and after the -service he was taken for dinner to Deacon Bentley’s house. There was a -great family gathering, and the long table was spread in the kitchen. -The deacon sat at one end, the minister at the other. Naturally, the -minister expected to be asked to say the “grace,” so he prepared his -mind for it. We deaf demand a “sign” for such invitations, and Dr. -Jackson thought he had one when the deacon, far down the room, seemed -to nod his head as at a suggestion. So the preacher shut his eyes, bent -down his head and blessed the food with a long and fervent prayer. He -knew something was wrong, for he felt the table shaking, but he went -serenely on until he finished with a devout “amen.” How are we to -know what really happens at such times until we get home, where our -faithful reporter can tell us about it? Dr. Jackson did not in the -least understand until his wife explained that Deacon Bentley had not -given the expected sign, and, being deaf himself, he had bowed his own -head and said a rival blessing. Probably the spectacle of the two deaf -men offering simultaneous petitions blessed all who were present with -abundant appetite. - -This was indeed ridiculous, but, no doubt, you have seen normal men -acting in much the same way, foolishly interfering with the jobs or -prerogatives of others when they know full well they have no business -out of their own corners. It is like the group of men I saw at a -country railway station trying to turn a locomotive on an old-fashioned -turntable. The engineer had run his machine on to the table, and though -the men were pushing on the lever with all their might, they could not -move the engine. Finally the engineer backed her about two feet. The -weight was then so nicely adjusted that a single man turned the table -with ease. At first there had been a poor adjustment. The men were -trying to lift the entire weight; when it became nicely balanced the -engine nearly turned itself. I think most men at some period of their -lives get out of their own corners to show others how the job of life -should be worked out. They throw the machinery out of balance and double -the world’s work. - -Years ago, when I worked as a hired man in a back-country neighborhood, -I belonged to a debating society. I was on the program committee, and we -found something of a task in selecting subjects for debate which were -within the life and thought of our audience. “Resolved, that the mop is -a more useful element in civilization than the dishcloth” was a prime -favorite with the women. “Resolved, that for a man starting on a farm a -cow is more useful than a woman” brought out great argumentative effort -from the men, and as I recall it, the cow won on the statement that if -crops failed and you could not pay the mortgage, you could sell the cow. -If I were back there now, knowing what I do of life, I should suggest a -new topic: “Resolved, that deafness is a greater affliction to a woman -than to a man.” Here is fine opportunity for argument. The man is shut -out of many lines of bread-winning, while the woman is denied the right -to indulge largely in small talk and gossip. - -I think deaf women are more likely than men to be exceedingly jealous. -Mrs. Helen Brewster was deaf, and she made life a burden to her husband, -Frank. He was really one of the most circumspect of men, but if he -stopped for a moment to talk with Miss Kempton, the sixty-year-old -dressmaker, poor Helen was quick to imagine him taking advantage of her -affliction to exchange nonsense with the other ladies. And right here -let me say to the deaf and the near-deaf: force yourselves to believe -that your friends, and particularly the members of your family, are -absolutely true; do not ever permit your mind to suggest that those -upon whom you must rely for help or interpretation are unfaithful. -Never admit this until you cannot escape the conviction. Remember -that most persons we meet are kindly and well disposed, if selfish -and thoughtless. They are not plotting our destruction or even our -unhappiness. It is too easy for the deaf to turn life into a veritable -hell by permitting the hideous devils of depression to master the brain. - -Now, Helen Brewster was jealous without reason, and perhaps the -unreasonable phase of that disease runs its most violent course. The -Brewsters lived on the ground floor of an old-fashioned town house. In -the family living on the upper floor was a daughter, Mary Crimmins, who -caused Helen’s worst paroxysms. In Winter, after an unusually hard -storm, the old roof was endangered by its load of snow. Mary Crimmins -called from her window to Frank as the only man then in the house to -mount the roof and shovel away the snow. And Helen, washing dinner -dishes at the sink, saw the two talking, Frank looking up and smiling, -and immediately concluded that the topic was much warmer than snow. -Frank got a ladder and a shovel, and mounted to the roof, while poor -Helen sat in the sitting-room bathing her soul in misery, for while -men do not usually present a ladder when planning an elopement in -broad daylight, all things were possible to her distorted mind. Soon -there came a small avalanche of snow from the roof, but the distracted -deaf woman did not hear it. Then her son came rushing into the room, -screaming with such breath as was left in him: - -“Oh, ma! It’s terrible!” - -“What’s the matter?” - -“The snow all slipped and knocked the ladder down, and pa—” - -“What about pa?” - -“He’s up there hugging—” - -Johnnie really finished his sentence, but the words “pa” and “hugging” -were enough for Helen. - -“He is, is he? I’ll attend to him!” And she rushed upstairs and knocked -loudly at the door; then, without waiting for any invitation, she strode -in. Old Mrs. Crimmins sat knitting by the window, while in a corner -behind her sat Mary with a stranger, a fine-looking young man. Before -the irate deaf woman could properly unload her mind, Mary blushing red, -came and screamed in her neighbor’s ear: - -“This is my fiance, Henry Jordon. We meant to keep it secret, and you -are the first one I’ve told. I know you won’t repeat it.” - -“But where’s Frank?” the astonished Helen at last managed to say. -Johnnie had followed her upstairs, and he was well drilled in handling -the deaf. So he caught hold of his mother’s dress and pulled her to the -door. - -“Come and _see_, ma,” he cried. - -He led her downstairs, out into the snow and pointed. And there was pa. -The snow had slipped beneath his feet, and carried him to the very edge -of the roof. He had saved himself only by catching at the chimney. There -he stood, with both hands clasped about it, “hugging” literally for dear -life. - -It was a very silent and thoughtful deaf woman who raised the ladder -and gave her husband a chance to discontinue his attention to the -chimney. And that is about the way nine-tenths of our imaginary -troubles terminate. It never did pay to hug a rumor or a delusion -too strenuously. Better conserve your strength for something more -substantial. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -CASES OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY - - Traveling for the Deaf—When the Deaf Man Saved a Leg - for Someone Else—The Cornetist Who Couldn’t Play a - Note—When the Deaf Meet the Drunk. - - -Some deaf persons make the mistake of concluding that the affliction -chains them at home and that they should not attempt to travel. This is -wrong, for they thus lose many extraordinary adventures. It is better -for us to get about if possible, and to take our chances with the world. -I travel about as freely as any man with perfect ears might do, and -thus see much of human nature which would otherwise be lost to me. No -adventures are more amusing or exciting than those which start with -mistaken identity. I have come to think that in the molding or shaping -of humanity comparatively few patterns are really used, judging from the -number of times that I and other deaf men have been mistaken for strange -persons in the mental shuffle of ordinary minds. The man with good ears -can usually explain at once, but we do not always understand, and we are -led into embarrassing situations. - -Once years ago I went to the country to spend the night with an old -friend. It was dark when we reached the little town where I was to meet -“an elderly man with a gray beard,” who would drive me to the farm. We -deaf are careful to have all such arrangements understood beforehand. -It was a black, gloomy night, and there were no lights at the little -station except the lanterns carried by the agent and a few farmers. The -deaf man is at his worst in darkness. It holds unimaginable terrors for -him. Perhaps I should say perplexities, for the deaf are rarely afraid. - -Most of us do more or less lip-reading, whether we make a study of the -science or not, and through long habit we come to make use of the eyes -without realizing how largely our lives must depend upon light. Thus, -when suddenly plunged into darkness, we are lost. I carried in my hand a -small black case containing the electric instrument which I used as an -aid to hearing, and this proved my undoing. Such a case may be accepted -as professional evidence; it may contain only a lunch or your laundry, -but lawyers and physicians also carry similar ones. As I stood looking -about in the dim light an elderly man with a short beard stepped up and -held his lantern so as to view my face. I saw his lips frame the words: - -“Come on; hurry! We are all waiting.” - -I supposed he referred to supper, for I knew my friend had a very -orderly and precise wife, who is a little deaf. One must be promptly on -time in keeping appointments with such a character. The old man caught -me by the arm, hurried me to a carriage, and fairly bundled me into it. -He paid no attention to my questions, but jumped into the front seat and -urged on the horse to full speed. The lantern swinging from the front -axle went out as we bumped off into the darkness over mud holes and ruts -without number. I tried to get my electric device into operation, but -the plug had dropped out of place and I could not make connections. So -on we plunged. Soon I found that the old man in front was nearly as deaf -as I. The combination of two deaf men in the darkness rushing through -what was to one of them an absolutely unknown country should have been -thrilling, but the deaf man rarely experiences a thrill; he must wait -for some one to tell him what it is all about. As usual, my mind worked -back for some comparative incident. - -I remembered two. The year before I had gone to Canada during the -Winter. A farmer met me at the station after dark. It was very cold, -and the body of a closed carriage which had been put on runners was -filled with straw. This made a warm, comfortable nest, and the farmer -got in with me, while his son sat up in front to drive. The same -plug to my hearing device had dropped out, and in order to give me -a light for finding it, my host struck a match. He held it too long -and it burned his fingers. Then it fell into the straw and started a -great blaze. No two men ever showed greater activity than we did as -we plunged out of that carriage and threw in snow until the fire was -extinguished. That scene came to my mind, and then followed the story -by Ian Maclaren of the great surgeon who came up from London to perform -an operation, and was carried off into the wilderness against his will -by the local doctor. - -We drove several miles, it seemed to me, and then suddenly turned into -the yard of a farmhouse. I felt the carriage shudder as the wheel grazed -the stone gatepost. The door opened and a long splinter of light darted -out upon us. Two women hurried down the walk and helped me out of the -carriage. They were strangers to me, and now I was sure that I was in -the midst of an exciting adventure, not at the home of my friend. The -women escorted me to the house, where I found two solemn-faced gentlemen -evidently waiting for me. One of them held up a finger and beckoned me -into an adjoining room, where upon a bed lay a man who glared at me with -no agreeable face. By this time I had my “acousticon” in working order, -and as this man evidently had something to say, I held the mouthpiece -down to him and heard him shout: - -“_I tell you I won’t have it cut off!_” - -The two men who had brought me in were very much startled when the exact -contents of my black case was revealed. They glanced at each other and -then promptly escorted me out of the room. We went into the kitchen, -and there, beside the stove, the mystery was explained. One of the men -looked curiously at me and then asked: - -“Are you not Dr. Newton of New York?” - -I hastened to explain that I had never before heard of Dr. Newton. Then -it was revealed to me that these men were country doctors, waiting to -hold a consultation with the great surgeon, who had been expected to -arrive on my train. The man on the bed had had serious trouble with his -knee. These physicians had agreed that the limb must be removed, yet -both hesitated to perform a complicated operation. Hence, the surgeon -was coming to do it. The sick man’s father-in-law had gone to the -station; he had been instructed to bring back a man of medium size, who -said little and carried a black case of surgical instruments. I was to -look for an elderly man with a gray beard. Father-in-law and I had mixed -our signals. - -It took me but a short time to convince these physicians that I could -not fill the bill or saw off the leg. At last it developed that the -actual surgeon was detained and could not come until the following day. - -The man on the bed forgot his terror and laughed when I told him my -story, and it gave him the fighting courage to compel his wife to -telegraph the surgeon not to come at all. But those doctors acted as -though I had deprived them of their prey. In my capacity as substitute -surgeon I gave the patient the best advice I knew of: - -“As one afflicted man to another, I advise you to hang right on to your -leg. Try the faith cure and make yourself believe it can be saved.” - -“You bet I will. They’ll have to cut my throat before they cut this leg -off!” - -I saw him some years later. He carried a cane and limped, but he still -had two legs. - -“They never cut it off,” he reported. “They put a silver cord in the -joint, and it has held ever since. It’s a little stiff—but _it’s a -leg_. I guess if Pa Morton and you hadn’t been deaf that night they -would have finished the job.” - -I have heard of a deaf man who had an experience somewhat similar to -this. He also left the train one dark, stormy night in a good-sized -city. He was a stranger, so he was quite unfamiliar with the place. -He carried a small black case containing his hearing device and a -few toilet articles. As he stood in the dim light looking about for -his friends, two men rushed up to him, talking quite excitedly; they -grasped him by the arms and hurried him outside the station. Unable to -understand the performance, the deaf man followed, trying to explain -that he was waiting for his friends. Almost before he knew it he found -himself inside a car with these excitable gentlemen, driving rapidly -through the streets. Of course, you wonder why deaf men under such -conditions do not explain and break away. - -“You wouldn’t catch _me_ in any such situation,” says my friend Jones. -“I’d soon make ’em understand.” - -There is only one thing the matter with Jones’ point of view—he has -never lived in the silence. Let him try that and he will understand that -philosophy assumes a form of patience in such situations. We are usually -quite helpless in the darkness, and when we go among strangers we must -either suspect everyone who approaches us or consider him a friend. Most -of us conclude from experience that it is wiser to drop suspicion and -assume that the majority of human beings are honest. And as the great -emotion of fear apparently enters the brain through the ear, we are apt -to be calm under most extraordinary conditions. - -We left our puzzled deaf man rushing in a car through the streets of an -unknown city. The auto finally entered a narrow, dark alley and stopped -before what appeared to be the back door of a large building. The deaf -man was urged out of the car by his nervous companions and was hurried -up a steep stairway. They blundered through several dark passages and -finally came out on the stage of a theater, where they stood in the -wings and watched a long-haired pianist in the center of the stage -laboring to unlock the keys of a piano in a way calculated to let loose -a horde of imprisoned melodies. A vast audience filled the house. - -A man who appeared to be master of ceremonies rushed up to the deaf man -and wrote on his notebook: - -“Delighted to see you! We feared you were not coming. Your first number -is next on the program. We will give the professor an encore while you -are preparing.” - -The poor deaf man could only stare and protest in wonder, but soon a -ponderous German puffed up the stairs in great excitement. He pulled -the unfortunate victim back among the heaps of properties and roared, -shaking his fist: - -“I am the cornetist what plays here! What do you mean, you impostor, who -try to take my place?” - -After they had succeeded in pacifying the German they explained to the -deaf man. They had engaged a celebrated cornet soloist for the benefit -concert, and had sent a reception committee to the station to meet him. -It was late, and these nervous men had never seen the great musician. -They did see a dignified man carrying what looked like a case for -musical instruments. When they asked him if he was Professor Hoffman, -the deaf man merely nodded his head as the quickest way to get rid of -them, and they naturally rushed him to the theater without further ado, -leaving the musician to find his way alone. - -This deaf man had a keen sense of humor, and greatly relished the -situation, but the German had never recognized a joke in his life, so he -continued to glare at the “impostor.” After a most humble apology about -all the committee could offer as recompense was an invitation to the -deaf man to _remain and hear the music_. He remained and was interested -in seeing his musical rival blow himself up to nearly twice his natural -size in order properly to express his feelings through his cornet. - -Many of his most amusing and at the same time tragic experiences come -to the deaf man through his association with drunken people. We meet -them in all our travels, and I must confess that I have never found a -more interesting study than that which deals with the effect of alcohol -upon the human character. A drunken deaf man is a most pitiable object, -but to the observant deaf man his drunken neighbor presents a case -of infinite wonder and variety. We see men naturally grim and silent -singing ridiculous songs, or attempting to dance. Men usually profane, -making no pretense at religion, suddenly quote from the Scriptures -devoutly. Quarrelsome men of rough, ugly temper overwhelm us with -attentions, while men of kindly nature challenge us to fight. We see it -all, and must judge such people mainly by their actions. - -Usually drunken men begin to talk to me. When they find that I do not -reply they generally foam over with sorrow or anger, and it is hard to -decide which is the more embarrassing. Once in a strange town when I -was looking about for my friends the town drunkard accosted me. I have -never known just what he did want, but when I explained that I was a -stranger looking for a certain street he volunteered to show me the way. -So he caught my arm and led me up the street, staggering against me at -every other step, and talking loudly. And on our way we met my friend -and his wife, sober and dignified persons who were horrified at my -appearance under the escort of the town drunkard. In his sober moments -my guide would never have thought of associating with these aristocratic -representatives of Main Street, but now he greeted them jovially, as old -friends. It was a most embarrassing situation, and my friends, being -absolutely devoid of humor, have never felt quite sure of me since the -incident. - -A drunken man once approached a friend of mine with a remark which he -did not understand, as he was deaf, so he merely shook his head and -turned away. The intoxicated man, full of fight, followed, shouting -challenges and pulling off his coat. A crowd gathered about them, and -two rough-looking fellows got behind the deaf man and offered to act as -his seconds. One of them advised: - -“Give him an upper cut on the chin whisker and follow it up with one on -his basket!” - -What the deaf man did was to pull out his notebook and pencil and give -them to the drunken man, who now was quite ready for the fray. - -“I cannot hear a word you say. Write it out for me!” - -This is offered as a suggestion to the peace-makers, that they may be -more blessed than ever before. Whenever a man curses you, and you want -to gain time—ask him to write it out! Here the drunken man looked -curiously at the deaf man and then at the notebook. He pondered deeply -for a moment and then slowly began to put on his coat. He walked -unsteadily to a little box nearby, mounted it carefully and delivered a -short speech something like this: - -“Ladies and gentlemen, I am wrong. This man is not my enemy, but my -friend, made so through affliction. He is in need. I suggest that we -all chip in and help him on his way. I’ll start with the price of three -drinks! Come now, loosen up! He who giveth let him give quickly!” - -Once I lived in the house with a kindly man who had a fierce craving for -drink. He really fought against it, but it mastered him again and again. -One year at Christmas he had gone for several months without drinking. -He was like a consumptive who imagines that he has overcome his disease -while it still lurks within only waiting for favorable conditions to -blaze up. A few days before Christmas several old friends stepped out -of his wild past and broke down the man’s self-control. When I came -home he was “roaring drunk”—I had never seen him in worse condition. -As I came up the stairs he rushed suddenly out of his room and caught -me unexpectedly by the collar. As I was taken off my guard he was able -to pull me inside the room, shut the door and throw himself against it. -At that time I could hear much of what he said. He glared at me like -a maniac. His fists were clenched, his eyes were bloodshot and he was -altogether a terrifying and a pitiful spectacle. - -I expected him to throw himself upon me, and I was ready. I had no idea -wherein I had offended, and I did not want to hurt him. I derided that -when he sprang at me I would sidestep and give him the “French trip” -which I had learned in the lumber camps. That will floor anyone who is -not prepared for it, and I knew that I could tie him if necessary. But -there was no fight in him except the frightful battle he was waging -against himself. His fists opened and he held out his hands appealingly. - -“_I’ve brought you here to pray for me!_ Get right down on your knees -and pray that I may be a man and not a skunk!” - -Well—take it as you like, the deaf man has his share of excitement with -all sorts of men. There seems to be no good reason that we should lead -uneventful lives! I have often wondered what various pompous friends -of mine would have done with the above situation. Or I should like to -see them master another incident which involved the same man. Once he -approached me as I stood talking with visitors. - -“I want you to do me a favor!” he said in the thick, eager voice of the -intoxicated. “I want you to kick me, and kick me hard!” As I did not -reply he thought I had not heard, so taking off his coat he backed up to -me in a way any deaf person could understand! - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -ALL IN A LIFETIME - - The Training School for Robbers—Eavesdroppers Who Heard - Not a Word—The Fox and the Wolf—The Murderer—The - Plans for Eloping—Regarding the Deaf as Uncanny—The - Narrowness and Prejudice of the Deaf Themselves—Dancing - and Singing Eliminated—The Blind and the Deaf, and the - Man with Both Afflictions. - - -On a lonely corner in New York City I once saw three boys practicing -the gentle art of highway robbery. One played the part of victim; he -walked along giving a good imitation of the ordinary citizen busy with -his own thoughts, giving little attention to his surroundings. The other -two boys approached him carelessly, apparently laughing at some joke. -As they passed, one of the “robbers” suddenly turned and threw his left -arm around the “citizen’s” head just below the chin. Then he quickly -slid his right arm down to pinion the arms of the victim just above -the elbow. He put his left knee at the middle of the victim’s back and -pulled with the left arm. It was a murderous grip; the more the victim -struggled the closer drew the “head lock” under his chin, and the neck -was forced back to the breaking point. The other boys deftly emptied -the unprotected pockets of watch and money. Then they threw the victim -to the ground and ran away. They rehearsed this over and over—taking -turns at the different positions, perfecting themselves in this -barbarous business. - -I watched this fascinating play for some time, studying to think of some -way in which the victim might defend himself. He might possibly use his -feet, but taken unaware probably his breath would be shut off before -he could organize any defense. One can easily realize how powerless an -unsuspecting stranger would be at the hands of three trained villains -such as these boys seemed likely to become. - -Two years later I had occasion to pass through the street where this -rogue’s training had been carried on. It was after dark, and just as my -mind reverted to this grewsome drill two men appeared from under the -shadow of the elevated station. They stopped and spoke to me, but I did -not understand. One of them repeated his question, pointing at my watch -chain. Naturally I pulled back my arm to strike him as I saw an opening, -but the other man quickly caught my head and arms in that murderous lock -which I had seen those boys practicing. He did not hurt me, but I found -myself powerless to move or speak. I cannot describe the feeling of -utter helplessness caused by that grip at my throat and arms. The first -man took my watch from my pocket and held it to the light, looked at it -carefully—_and put it back again_! He looked over my shoulder at his -companion who held me captive, and as his face was then in the light, I -could read the words on his lips: - -“Only nine o’clock?” - -Then I read once more: - -“Thank you!” - -My arms were set free, and, smiling, the two men hurried on. I assume -that they merely wanted to know the time. They saw that I could not hear -them and that I might call for help and put them in a bad position, so -they helped themselves to the time of day in true hold-up style. - -One man’s adventure illustrates how deafness may be converted into -an asset if the affliction can be kept concealed. He went to a city -park, and was sitting on a bench which was partly concealed by trees -and shrubs. He was undergoing one of those periods of depression which -often fall upon us in the silence, after some sharp rebuff, or when -the real trouble of our affliction is visited upon us by some careless -associate. Completely absorbed, this man did not notice that a nearby -seat was occupied by a young woman and a man. Finally he did perceive -that they were talking earnestly—the man was evidently pleading and -the woman was inclined to deny him. But at last she evidently consented -to his proposition, and he looked cautiously around to make sure that -they were alone before sealing the agreement in the usual way. Then for -the first time he discovered my deaf friend within ten feet of their -bench! Of course these young people assumed that the deaf man had heard -it all. From the beginning conscience has made cowards of most of us. -The girl started to advertise her feelings with a scream, but her -companion checked her just in time by pointing to a park policeman who -was swinging his club at the corner of the path. Then he took out his -notebook, and without trying to talk he wrote this brief explanation and -handed it to the deaf man. - -“Please don’t betray us. It is true that we have planned to elope. We -will be married this afternoon in New Jersey. I am sure her father -will forgive us when we return; it is our only way. You overheard by -accident—now be a good sport and let us alone!” - -The deaf man put on his glasses to read the note. Through the film which -gathered on the lenses he saw only visions of youth and romance. No -woman would be likely to come into the land of silence and elope with -him! That would be but a clumsy and ridiculous performance, and he knew -it well. These young people were probably all wrong. Yonder policeman -would question them, find where they lived and notify the father of -the girl. As a sober-minded citizen opposed to youthful folly and far -removed from it, was it not his duty to stop such nonsense? And yet— - -He who hesitates is frequently spared the necessity for decision. He -looked up to find that the young people had disappeared, they had -slipped out of sight during his meditation. And in his lonely silence -the deaf man could smile, for he was glad that they got away. - -Another deaf man was traveling through a Western State in a Pullman. -This man noticed two men who seemed to be engaged in a most earnest -discussion. They sat across the aisle from him and as they talked they -glanced furtively about. They were a forbidding pair, one a great -hulking brute with a broad red face—the other a little rat of a man -with a low, receding forehead and a bright, restless eye. The wolf -and the fox appeared to be hunting together. Frequently the big man -became emphatic and struck the back of the seat with his great fist -while the little man shook his head and bared his teeth in a smile -which seemed like a menace. The deaf man wished to change his position -so as to get a better view of the country, and he happened to drop -into the seat which backed up against the one in which the wolf and -the fox were laying their plans. At first they paid no attention to -him, but continued to argue and gesticulate. Finally the fox realized -that the head of the deaf man was within a foot of their conversation. -How was he to know that the “listener” might as well have been a mile -away in so far as successful eavesdropping was concerned? He instantly -signalled to the wolf and the discussion stopped. They both soon moved -to the smoking-room, where they whispered for a little time; then the -fox came to sit beside the deaf man. He glanced about anxiously, but -finally said: - -“Did you happen to hear what we were saying?” - -The “eavesdropper” read some of the words on the lips of the other, and -vaguely nodded his head. Then the fox took a piece of paper and wrote: - -“It is a good joke. I made a bet with my friend that we could make you -think we were in earnest in planning the job. Of course there is nothing -to it. It was a fake talk.” - -Just then the wolf appeared with his hat and suitcase. The train was -approaching a small town. “Come,” he said, “we get out here.” His friend -jumped up to join him. They sprang off as the train stopped, though the -conductor said that their tickets would have carried them fifty miles -farther. The deaf man caught a look of fear and suspicion from the fox -as the two disappeared. Of course they were planning mischief, but fear -of this deaf man caused them to run from him as they would have fled a -plague. - -Many years ago I passed a Winter in a lumber camp far up among the -snows of Northern Michigan. My bunk-mate was a gigantic, silent man, a -stranger and a mystery to all the rest of us. He said little and made -no friends. He had a curious habit of glancing hurriedly about him; he -started at light sounds and appeared to keep a watchful eye always upon -the door. Frequently at night I found him awake, gazing at the lantern -which always hung at the door, near the end of the camp. One day the -driver of the supply team smuggled a bottle of whiskey into camp and my -bunk-mate was able to get two good drinks. We worked together that day -in a lonely place, and he became quite talkative. I could not hear him -well, but he was evidently trying to tell some incident of his own life. -There in the forest, knee deep in snow, he appeared to be acting out a -tragedy. At the last he did not seem to realize that I was there. He -addressed some imaginary person, holding out his hands as if in appeal. -Apparently this was rejected, and his face changed in anger. He caught -up his axe and rushed up to a fallen log; he struck it a blow which sent -a great chip flying a hundred feet away. Then he looked at me in wonder, -seeming to realize that I must have overheard him. He sat on the log, -took great handfuls of snow and held them against his head. I found -myself helping him with a great chunk of ice which I had brought from -the brook. - -“It was the whiskey,” he suddenly shouted. “It’s poison. It makes me -talk and think. Say—did you hear what I said? What was it?” - -He looked at me with hard, savage eyes. I had not heard his ravings and -did not recount his actions. He continued to stare at me silently, axe -in hand. Then he decided to believe my denial and he kept at work as -before, silent and grim. As we went back to camp that night he asked me -once more, with apparent irrelevance: - -“Did you hear what I said?” - -I again assured him that I had understood nothing, which was the truth. -He seemed satisfied, but during the evening he divided his attention -between me and the outside door; he was again puzzled over the chance -that I had heard. In the early morning I awoke to find myself alone in -the bunk. The man did not appear again. - -Two nights later I sat on the bench by the camp stove drying my clothes -after another day in the wet snow. At the moment when I was remembering -that curious watch-dog habit of my bunk-mate’s the door suddenly opened -and two men entered. One was the sheriff of a county in the lower -tier, near the Ohio line; the other was also armed. They were after my -bunk-mate—too late. - -“What’s it for?” asked the foreman. - -“Murder, I reckon. He quarreled with his wife and hit her with an axe.” - -And to this day I wonder what would have happened to me in the woods if -I had heard what he said. - -Deaf persons undoubtedly come to be really troublesome to many kindly -and essentially generous men and women. I have never been able to -understand the feeling; perhaps it resembles the creepy terror which -the touch or the sight of a cat arouses in some persons. At any rate -I have been introduced to people who are unmistakably afraid of me. -They cross the street to avoid a face-to-face encounter. I think they -would not dare to walk alone with me at night. I have come to realize -that a fair proportion of the human beings I meet are actually afraid -of me, or uncomfortable in my presence until I in some way make them -understand that I will not annoy them, or that I have a message for them -which can be delivered by no one else. Some deaf people live tormented -by the thought that society rejects them, or at best merely tolerates -them. They would be far happier to admit frankly that they are not as -other men, and realize that there is no reason why the world should give -them special accommodation. They should rather seek to acquire original -personality or power which would make them so luminous that the world -would eagerly follow them. This is possible in some way for every deaf -person. It is our best hope. - -One of the finest men I ever knew told me frankly that two classes -of people make him shudder; men belonging to the Salvation Army, in -uniform, and deaf persons, trying to hear. This friend is a thoroughly -sincere clergyman, with a leaning toward the full dignity of the cloth. -The Salvation Army came to his town, and being charitably disposed -toward the workers, he attended one of their meetings. Greatly to his -embarrassment the captain called in a loud voice for Brother Johnson to -pray. The clergyman started in the formal manner but at the first period -he was greeted with a loud chorus—“_Amen, brother!_” While the drummer -pounded on his drum and clashed his brass. My friend still suffers -from the shock. His feeling for the deaf may be traced to Aunt Sallie. -At the bedside of a sick friend he was asked to pray. Before he could -even start, Aunt Sallie, very deaf but anxious to miss nothing, planted -herself so close as to place her ear about six inches from his mouth. -I do not wonder that this man will cross the street at the approach of -deafness or a uniformed Salvation Army officer. - -And it must be admitted that it is quite easy for the deaf themselves -to become narrow and prejudiced. Frequently when exiled to the silent -world, with poetry and laughter shut out, we use a clipped yard-stick -to measure the good which is always to be found in everyone. Sometimes -prejudice is carried to a ridiculous extreme. When I was a boy Deacon -Drake of the Congregational Church went to a funeral at which a -Unitarian minister officiated. The Deacon had not heard for years, but -he sat stiff-necked and solemn until the choir sang a hymn which visibly -affected the people. He asked his daughter for the name of the hymn and -she wrote it out—“Nearer, My God, to Thee.” The old man had heard not -a note, but as he disapproved of the sentiment expressed he rose and -tramped firmly out of the room. - -Job asked “Where is wisdom to be found?” Surely the deaf may eliminate -singing and dancing as promising prospects for their search! Once a deaf -man went to a party and fell into the hands of a feminine “joker.” This -lady had wagered that she could dance a Virginia reel with a man unable -to hear a note of the music. She contended that she would make him hear -through vibration and thus guide him properly. Of course the deaf man -knew better, but what was he to do? What could any man do in such a -case? You yourself would probably trample all over judgment and common -sense and stand out to make yourself ridiculous as man has done for -centuries, and will doubtless continue to do! - -They started bravely, but half way down the line the music quickened and -the ill-starred deaf man landed heavily upon the foot of his partner. -It was a cruel smash. The vibration process was reversed. She lost her -wager and he was counted out, but he should have known better. - -Perhaps you have seen a deaf man trying to march in a parade; I once saw -one trying to keep step to his own wedding march! Well, I may say that -the wife of a deaf man has many trials, usually she must do the marching -for both. - -I have often been asked whether total deafness is a greater affliction -than total blindness. It would be very difficult to decide. At times -the blind man would gladly exchange his hearing for sight; he so longs -to see the faces of old friends or of his children. Yet frequently he -is glad that the burden of deafness has not been laid upon him. In like -manner the deaf man would sometimes give all he has for the sound of -some familiar voice or the melody of some old song. Yet, considering -carefully and weighing all the evidence, total blindness seems the -greater affliction. But I have had blind men “feel sorry” for me because -I miss the sounds of the birds and cannot hear whispered confidences. - -However, I think the blind are happier than the deaf. There is less of -the torture of Tantalus about their affliction. If they are surrounded -by loving and considerate friends they have less to regret than the -deaf; their embarrassments are not brought home so cruelly, for they -do not see the consequences of their own blunders. I know a woman who -was suddenly blinded, twenty-five years ago. She has lived usefully and -happily with her family. Her children are now middle-age men and women, -showing the wrinkles and the wear of life. Her husband and her brother -have aged, but not for her. She only sees the old vision of youth and -power. An illuminated silence would have given her all the signs of age -creeping upon those nearest her, and would have destroyed her intimate -part in the everyday family life. Her children never could have come -to her, weeping, seeking her sacred confidences, had she been unable to -hear them. - -Society has a more kindly feeling for the blind man than for the -deaf—at least so it seems to us. You may find a good illustration of -this at some party or social gathering in the country. The neighbors -gather; very likely it is Winter and they come from lonely places, -eager for human companionship. It is a jolly gathering. Perhaps a blind -man and a deaf man of equal social importance, will enter the room -simultaneously. The blind man hears the laughter and the happy chatter -and at once enters into the spirit of the evening. The deaf man catches -no happy contagion, he feels a melancholy irritation. He would have been -far happier at home with his book, but his wife and daughter urged upon -him the duty of coming to “enjoy himself” and—here he is. - -Half a dozen people rush to the blind man. He must be guided to a -comfortable seat where a willing interpreter will quickly make him feel -at home. He is told about the new red dress which Mrs. Jones is wearing, -it is so becoming! Miss Foster is in blue, and her hair is arranged in -the latest New York style. Henry Benson has shaved off his beard. John -Mercer has a bandage on his hand where he cut it with the saw. The Chase -girls have new fur coats. The blind man sees it through the eyes of his -neighbor. It is a pleasure to sit unobtrusively and talk to him—it -gives one a thrill of satisfaction to feel that the blind man is made -happy. - -But who rushes to the deaf man for the privilege of being his -interpreter? In all my experience I have known only one person to do -this. As he looks about him for a vacant seat the deaf man sees few -inviting hands or faces. If he is able to read facial expressions at all -he soon fancies that there are many versions of the thought: - -“Oh, I hope that man will not sit near me!” - -Who desires to attract attention by screaming at the deaf man or to -spend the evening writing out for him what others are saying? - -A little handful of people once attended a prayer meeting at a little -country church back among the hills. It was during a severe, gloomy -Winter, a season of unusual trouble and unusual complaint. The little -stove could barely melt the thick frost on the windows. The feeble lamps -gave but a dim light. Yet as the meeting progressed through prayer -and song that melancholy group of farmers mellowed, and undoubtedly -something of holy joy came to them. I, of course, heard not a word -of the service, but apparently each person waited for the spirit to -move them, then rose and repeated some well-worn prayer or a verse of -Scripture. It was utterly crude and simple, but a certain power fell -upon that company and for the moment it was lifted out of the dull -commonplace of daily life. Little or nothing of the spiritual uplift -came to me. At the close of the service I saw people who had come gloomy -and depressed acting like happy children, shaking hands, forgetting -old troubles, buoyed and braced. And some of them seemed to regard my -calmness with wonder—I could not fully join in their happiness. - -It is evident that a sincere religious spirit can bring great comfort -to the deaf. Now and then I find a deaf man who practices what I -call professional religion with all the cant and the pious phrases -necessary. It never seems to ring true. The deaf are notorious failures -at deception. But a firm trust in God and a sincere belief in His power -and mercy should be “As the shadow of a mighty rock in a weary land”—of -silence. We must have the best possible moral support. - -I know of a man who is both blind and deaf. Once when I gave way -momentarily to depression his wife wrote me: - -“I felt like writing an invitation to you to come and look at my husband -who is both blind and deaf. An accident twenty-one years ago caused the -loss of sight, which came on gradually but finally became complete. When -I told him you were to write “Adventures in Silence,” he said, ‘Why -not the wonders of silence and darkness?’ That has been his attitude -all through these burdened years. These are but a small portion of the -misfortunes and trials which have befallen us, but as he guides himself -by lines hung from one point to another just high enough to take the -crook of his cane there comes never a word of discouragement or despair. -Here let me say that an educated, trained mind is the finest gift you -can give to your children. It is the possession of a wonderful mind well -trained by a splendid education that has been next to God’s love that -has kept ‘my man’ upright and strong through the darkened and silent -valley.” - -We may all of us readily understand that no human or material power is -strong enough to sustain a man through such a fate. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -“SUCH TRICKS HATH STRONG IMAGINATION” - - Imaginary Fears, Stuffed Lions and Bogus “Wild - Men”—Sound as Stimulating Emotions, Even of Animals—The - Brazen Courage of the Deaf—The Rum-crazed Men—The - Overflowing Brook—The Drunken Prizefighter Challenged - by a Deaf Man—The Terrors Lurking Within—Demons of - Depression—The Deaf Man and the Only Girl. - - -Most of our fears are imaginary. I am convinced of this after a long -study of deaf people, and a careful analysis of my own experience in -the silence. I believe that physical fear is almost invariably induced -by sound. We all see lions in the way. The man with good ears hears the -roaring and hesitates, or turns aside. The horrible sound does not reach -the deaf man, and he feels more inclined to go ahead and investigate. -Most frequently the frightful object turns out to be a stuffed lion, a -creature without effective claws or teeth, with nothing but wind in its -roaring! - -With a little thought every man can remember incidents which tend to -prove this statement, but in time of threatened danger he is likely to -forget them. Years ago in my boyhood days a couple of us youngsters -went to a circus in the country town. In one of the side-shows was a -fierce-looking creature labelled “The Wild Man of Borneo.” It appeared -to be a human being of medium size with long claws, rolling eyes, -and a dreadful, discolored, hairy countenance. His most frightful -characteristic was his voice, which was exhibited by a horrible roar, -a sound well calculated to chill the simple hearts of the country -people who listened to the “manager’s” tale of a thrilling capture. -There had been a bloody fight in which the wild man had killed several -dogs and wounded a number of hunters. He would never have surrendered -had they not first captured his mate; he followed her into voluntary -slavery—“Thus proving that love is the primal and ruling force of the -universe. The love-song of this devoted couple, ringing over the hills -and dales, would have daunted the stoutest heart.” In proof of which the -two caged creatures started a chorus of roars which would have sent the -country people home to shudder in the darkness, had not a very practical -deaf man been moved to investigate. He heard nothing of the explanation, -and but little of the roaring; he only saw a couple of undersized -creatures, exceedingly dirty and not particularly interesting. The “love -song” gave them no glamour for him. So he idly lifted a curtain which -hung at one corner of the tent, and, lo, the fountain of sound was -revealed at its true source. A hot and perspiring fat man was working -industriously at the pedal of a “wind machine,” a device resembling -an old-fashioned parlor organ. Here was the real explanation of those -primitive cries proving the deep affection which the “Wild Man of -Borneo” felt for his mate. The deaf man pulled the curtain completely -down and exposed the humbug. - -Well, it broke up the show! Next to the fury of a woman scorned is the -wrath of a crowd of country people who have paid their money for a -thrill only to find themselves served with a very thin trick. They see -no humor in the situation, and an exposure of this sort is a cruel blow -at their pride and judgment. People with humor and philosophy would have -laughed at the joke and polished it up for the benefit of their friends, -but this hard-headed, serious folk could only find relief by pulling -down the tent. In a far larger way this is what the solid, unreasoning -and unimaginative element of a population will do to a state or a -national government when some political trick has been exposed. - -It was the “wild man” himself who saved the situation in the circus -tent, and tamed the outraged audience. He pulled off his wig and beard -and shed the claws which were fitted to his fingers like gloves. Then -there stood revealed a small Irishman with a freckled, good-natured -face. - -“Sure,” he said, “the game’s up and I’m glad, because it’s a tiresome -job. I’ve worked on a farm in my day, and I’d like to do it again. If -any of you farmers here will give me a job, I’ll take it.” - -“And me, too!” said the “mate”; when “her” frowsy head dress came off -there was a red-haired young fellow of pleasant countenance. They both -got farm jobs and lived in that community for several years. The “mate” -finally married a farmer’s daughter! - -It has been said that the primary effect of sound is the creating of -moods; psychologists have spent much time in analyzing the connection -between sound and fear and kindred emotions. It is easy enough to -realize that sight must inform or directly affect the intellect. Theater -managers prove the necessity of supplementing sight with sound when they -obtain a full play of emotion by giving the audience appropriate music, -which they stress during emotional passages. Perhaps what we _are_ is -determined by what we see, while what we _feel_ is decided by what we -hear. The deaf are frequently termed hard-hearted and even cold-blooded. -I have known deaf persons actually to smile at cases of grief or injury -which seemed tragic to those who could hear what the unfortunate victims -were saying. They saw only the physical contortions. Suppose you with -good ears and I in my silence, walking together, meet a little crying -child. I can only observe the outward signs of distress; I see her tears -and watch the little chest rise and fall with her sobs. My sympathy can -be only vague and general—I may even smile to myself over the shallow -sorrows of childhood. It will pay you to stoop over and hear the whole -story, to catch every tone of the little, grief-stricken voice. I have -no means of offering intelligent consolation, perhaps you can explain -the trouble away or offer a quick diversion. - -There are hundreds of instances where the deaf have undergone battles, -shipwrecks or other frightful adventures with composure, while their -companions were stumbling or jabbering with fear. These latter would -tell you that the most horrible part of their experience was the cries -of the suffering who faced death in agony and fear. The mere spectacle -of the suffering did not upset the cool judgment of the deaf. - -It seems evident that sound also has a greater stimulating effect upon -the emotions of animals than do the other senses. A friend who has -studied this subject says: - -“I have imitated different animals many thousand times, and can easily -deceive them at their own game, but cannot long deceive the average -person. A dog relying on sight, smell and hearing—and maybe a little, a -very little reasoning—although he may be very brave—can easily be made -to flee in terror by the right sort of growling and noises connecting -first wonder, then anger or terror. He hears a very ferocious dog, but -can neither see nor smell him; here is something new, which he cannot -reason out—he curls his tail, gives a frightened yelp, registers fear -in other ways and runs with all his might. - -“Recently I was out hunting wild turkeys, and had nearly induced one to -come near to me when a stick fell from a tree, and without waiting to -reason, away he went. My call would not deceive a person, but any sort -of an amateur squawk easily deceives a gobbler. Not long ago, a friend -of mine, while calling a gobbler, called also a wildcat who was trying -to get the gobbler for breakfast. Animal sight may be ultra-human, but I -am very sure that animal hearing is not.” - -Doubtless we all rely on hearing to keep us informed concerning the -fear instinct. Children hear a great deal subjectively, aided by their -fears plus imagination. I am almost prepared to state that deafness is -connected with fearlessness above the average, but I am not yet sure -of my ground. Any defect of the five senses strengthens in a measure -the remaining channels, and deafness cannot but assist concentration -in those persons of studious contemplative habit, since it closes -one avenue of interruption. I have noticed that with those of a -philosophical turn plus strong will—or won’t—deafness saves nerve -fatigue, from hearing many noises or remarks. - -I have observed the habits of several deaf cats and dogs, and have -noted instances of exceptional bravery, and evidences of a new sense, -probably the substitute for the one they have lost. Some of my own -experiences also show how sound dominates physical fear. - -During my Winter in a large lumber camp of Northern Michigan I found how -far life can swing from the ideal republic even in this country. The -snow had shut in our little community for the Winter. The majority of -our choppers were French Canadians and Swedes, strains of humanity which -are completely unlike until whiskey breeds in both a desire to fight -and kill. In some way the Canadians had obtained a supply of “white -whiskey” (a mixture of grain alcohol and water) at Christmas, and the -entire outfit prepared to celebrate gloriously. The boss prepared to -follow Grant’s famous plan of campaign. He cut off the enemy’s base of -supplies by locking the door of the cook’s shanty and refusing to feed -the rioters. This brought the revolution to a head. A crowd of savage -men gathered in front of the buildings with their axes, and threatened -to cut the doors out and to kill the few of us who were left on guard. -After it was all over I was told that the cursing and the threatening of -these rum-crazed men was frightful, but as I could not hear a syllable -of it I walked up to them, entered the group and talked the situation -over with French Charlie, Joe the Devil and the Blue Swede. The rest -of my side expected to see me chopped into pieces, but most men who -threaten before they act will talk a full dictionary before they kill. -These drunken men were so astonished at a deaf man’s disregard of their -threats that they were diverted from their anger, and I was able to make -terms with them. I probably should not have dared to go near them if I -had received the curses and threats direct. - -Years later a sudden cloudburst in the hills above our farm filled the -streams to overflowing. The little river near our home jumped out of -its bed and spread over the road—a rushing, roaring, shallow sheet of -water. I had to cross that part of the road in order to get my train, -and I took a steady horse, with one of the little boys in the buggy -with me. At the edge of this overflow we found a group of excited men -who were listening to the roaring, and were afraid to venture over. I -used my eyes calmly and observed that the bridge was quite sound, and -the water was too shallow to be really dangerous. So in I drove with my -boy—who was white with terror—while most of the men tried to stop me. -The old horse waded calmly and safely, and we crossed without trouble. -The water never reached the hub of the wheel! Yet on the other side men -stood half paralyzed _because they heard the roaring water_ and stopped -to listen. On the other side my boy said, “But you never would have done -it _if you could hear that water_!” - -As I look from the silent land out into the busy world I see men -hesitate, falter and fall back at terrors which appear to me imaginary. -They _stop to listen_—and are lost. Like my boy on the edge of the -river, they hear the roaring water and become unfit for calm judgment, -or keen analysis of actual danger. Most people with good hearing stop -too frequently to listen. A scarecrow may have been making a noise like -a fighting man! If you listen long enough to the tales of a liar you -will come to regard him as a lion. - -A friend of mine relates a strange adventure which befell him on a New -York subway train. He was a “strap-hanger” in a crowded express car -rushing up town. As is the habit of the deaf he forgot the throng around -him and let his mind become absorbed in the business he was engaged -in. This is the privilege of us deaf; we may be near enough to a dozen -men to touch them with our hands, yet the mind can take us miles away -from all distractions. This man was rudely shaken from his oblivion by -a great commotion in the car. The passengers rushed forward past him, -stumbling over each other in their eagerness to get away to the front -of the train. Two so-called “guards” fled with the rest. The deaf man -did not join the stampede because he had no idea what it was all about, -and long experience of the vagaries of people who can hear had taught -him the wisdom of keeping out of the rush. He glanced over his shoulder -and saw that the back of the car was empty save for one man, who stood -quite near to him. This was a thick-set individual with a small, -bullet-shaped head, set firmly on a bull neck. He had a heavy red face, -and small, deep-set eyes, but his most singular feature was his right -ear—it did not look human at all, but resembled a small cauliflower. -The eyes of the deaf are quick to seize upon the most unusual or -conspicuous part of an object—my deaf friend noted first of all that -cauliflower ear. - -Its owner advanced and shook his fist menacingly, shouting words which -only served to increase the confusion of the stampeders. The deaf -man merely hung to his strap and over his shoulder shouted into the -cauliflower ear: - -“Oh, shut up! Give us a rest!” - -The “guard” who was trying to jam through the door nearly fell with -astonishment. As the man continued to approach from behind, the deaf man -turned and pointed a finger at him. - -“I can’t hear a word you say, and I don’t know who you are—but shut up, -and stop your noise!” - -The antagonist glanced sharply at him—then the deaf man read on his -lips: - -“Don’t you know who I am?” - -“No, and I don’t care!” - -“Can’t you hear what I say?” - -“No, and I don’t want to! Mind your own business!” - -The bullet-headed man uttered one short expressive word and sat down. -At Forty-second Street two good-sized policemen appeared, but they -waited for reinforcements before arresting the disturber. However, he -went willingly, casting back a look of mingled fear and admiration at -the deaf man. My friend did not know he was a hero until he learned -that the belligerent gentleman was a champion middle-weight boxer, very -drunk and very ugly. He had threatened to clean out the crowd—hence the -sudden stampede. This deaf man tells me that if he had really known to -whom the cauliflower ear belonged he would have been the first man out -of the car. As it happened he gained a reputation for being the only man -who ever told a “champ” to shut up, and then cooled him off by shaking a -finger. I have known many deaf men who have escaped from such situations -most marvelously uninjured. - -Yet while the deaf man is smiling at most of the terrors which approach -him from without, he falls an easy prey to those which attack from -within. Imagination will often lead a sensitive man into untold misery. -Our hardest struggles come when we must strangle the imps of depression, -our personal devils. They come with evil suggestion, frequently with -actual voices, eager to poison the will and paralyze the courage. I have -no doubt that Whittier’s great poem beginning: - - “_Spare me, dread angel of reproach_” - -was written as the result of subjective audition. I suppose the average -person can never know how close the deaf are driven to temporary -insanity in their struggles to overcome doubts and imaginary fears. -Sometimes the fear concentrates upon the idea that they will lose sight -as well as hearing! Or perhaps doubt of wife, children or friends will -present itself forcibly. Little incidents, a feeling that people are -laughing at their expense, some unintentional slight, a misunderstanding -or a rude nervous shock, any of these may start the hateful imps which -live in one part of the brain at their fearful work of poisoning the -mind and the will. At times the deaf man finds it almost impossible to -wrench free from these accursed influences. - -Some readers become so completely absorbed in books that they cannot -take the mind from a sad or an exciting story. I have known deaf men to -enter into such a story as George Eliot’s “Mill on the Floss” so that -they lived through the lives of the various characters and found that -they could not shake off the depression. Usually I can tell when the -author is deaf by the general character of the story. The dialogue is -as a rule unnatural and the tone is apt to be gloomy. Music, or light, -aimless conversation would clear the mind and make the reader remember -that it is only a story—but to the deaf man, deprived of these aids, -the tragedy depicted on the printed page becomes shockingly real. -The best remedy for me is to “read in streaks.” Whenever I find that -a book is liable to have this powerful effect on me I do not read -continuously, but after a few chapters I take up something in lighter -vein, or even a serious volume of solid thought. Some of us deaf acquire -a morbid desire to read sad or sombre literature. This mistake should -be overcome even if it requires a supreme effort. If one can acquire -faith in the Bible and reverence for its teachings it will give greater -comfort to the deaf than will any other book. I place Shakespeare next, -then Milton and the other great poets. But let a deaf man read what -interests him, if it be nothing but the local paper. If he lives in the -country let him become a correspondent for his local paper, and join -the hunt for local news. He should leave out of his list all tales of -depression and sin. The deaf person should make a point of reading half -a dozen of the “best sellers” each year. They are likely to be stories -of human nature, and they will undoubtedly contain natural dialogue; -these elements are sadly needed by the deaf, yet they are the least -likely to come into the silent world. - -Of course you will contend, and truly, that it is supremely foolish -for grown men and women to give way to imaginary fears and doubts. Yet -the very absurdity makes it harder to bring cool reason into the fight -against these imps. As Claude Melnotte in “The Lady of Lyons” puts it: - - “It is the sting of such a woe as mine - To _feel I am a man_!” - -Again, my best remedy is to force the mind backward into familiar -incidents which clearly show that these fierce lions of the imagination -are at best mere scarecrows. There is one favorite adventure which -usually serves to lift the spell. - -Many years ago a certain young man met a certain young woman, and the -young man was soon completely certain that here was “the only girl”. -Ever since the world began young men have singled out young women by a -process of selection, not usually scientific or always safe or sane; -yet life has continued for many centuries with upward tendencies as -a result. This young man’s ancestor, the cave man, would doubtlessly -have taken a club (if he had been big enough), knocked down the male -members of the family, and dragged the young woman off to his own hole -in the rocks. The race has progressed since then, and the family must be -approached in a more gentle manner. This young woman had a wide choice. -She was bright and lively and pretty, with a long string of attendants. -The man was serious-minded and poor, with prospects far from the best. -His hearing was failing, and he knew that deafness was inevitable. He -had reasoned out the whole situation with the greatest care. Here was -the “only girl,” but the cold future lay on ahead. Have the deaf a -right to marry? Is it fair to ask anyone to share the results of such -an affliction? What he did was to go straight to the “only girl” with -the truth. Probably the imps of depression had begun to talk to him -even then. No doubt he made his future chances seem harder than he might -have done. It is said that John G. Whittier made the same blunder of -exaggerated honesty when he offered marriage to another “only girl.” The -girl rejected him and Whittier never married. But in our case the “only -girl” said that she would “think it over.” - -Then came the lawn party. The young man was a little late, and dancing -had begun when he came and looked through the window. Those were the -good old Southern days when we swung about in the old-fashioned waltz; -the happy days before the war were still in mind, and we danced to such -plaintive tunes as “Old Kentucky Home,” and “Nellie Was a Lady.” The -young man outside saw the “only girl” dancing with Henry. Henry was a -good fellow, bright and clean; his mother was the richest woman in town. -When the music stopped the couple came out onto the lawn. The waiting -young man saw them find seats under a tree, back from the lights, where -they sat down to talk earnestly. The watcher could think of but one -probable topic for conversation. Once as he walked down a path under a -lamp they looked at him and he saw the “only girl” smile. He lost all -interest in the party. He walked on out along the lonely country road, -and like Philip Ray of Enoch Arden, “had his dark hour alone.” - -The imps came to him in the dark, but he mastered them and reasoned it -out to a great peace. “It is better so. Henry can give her an easier -life. She will be happier here in her old home town. I must fight for a -place in the world, and she is not a fighter. I am handicapped. In the -years to come, as a deaf man I shall be worse off than a man with one -leg. I really have no right to ask her to share an uncertainty with me. -Henry is the better man—and yet, she is the ‘only girl.’ I cannot stay -here. I’ll go back North!” - -The deaf spend less time on regrets after the struggle than do those who -can hear. So the young man walked back to the house with a great peace -in his heart. The “only girl” was sitting on the steps, one of a group -of happy young people. And Henry came walking across the lawn straight -to the deaf man. The latter braced himself and held out his hand to the -rival—for what did it matter after all if the “only girl” could be -satisfied? But Henry got in ahead. He put out his hand impulsively and -said: - -“Old man, I congratulate you! She has told me all about it. She’s not -for me. She says she admires a self-made man, and that’s more than I can -ever be. Mother took the job off my hands too early!” - -This is undoubtedly the best antidote for my fears and imaginary -vagaries, and I like to pass it in mental review. And this lady who sits -at the other side of the fire! I wonder how much of it _she_ remembers? -Does it have the effect of an antidote for her? She is writing -something for me now. No doubt she is remembering that night long -ago—the music and the moonlight and all the rest of it. Here is proof -of the power of mental communication. The good lady passes the message -over to me. Let me rub my glasses a moment in pleasant anticipation. I -read: - -“You went away this morning without leaving me any money. I must have -ten dollars to pay a few little bills!” - -Remembering happier days appears to be a special privilege of the deaf! - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -“THE TERROR THAT FLIETH BY NIGHT” - - The Terror that Flieth by Night—’Gene Wilson in the Dark - Silence—How He Fought off Insanity—Childhood Fears—The - Cat in the Garret—The Blind and the Deaf at the Dark - Railroad Station—A Georgia Experience. - - -The sense of utter helplessness and the heart chill which envelop a deaf -person suddenly plunged into darkness are indescribable. For example, of -course, I know perfectly well that the darkness does not of itself carry -evil or extra danger; I have come through it repeatedly without harm, -yet in spite of all that I can think or do I invariably experience an -instant of paralyzing fear. Persons who have never known perfect hearing -do not feel the full terror, I think, but there is tragedy in the sudden -withdrawal of light for those who have gradually, perhaps imperceptibly, -come to substitute eyes for ears. They may recover their mental poise -after a moment of mental struggle but for a brief space, before they can -adjust the mind, they will come close to insanity. I can assure you that -at such a time the moments are hours. - -I know of at least one deaf man, a farmer, who will vouch for the truth -of my statements, though you with good ears may contend that it is -fantastic to be so affected. ’Gene Wilson had come to depend on his wife -and children as interpreters in his communications with others. Many a -deaf person has lost the habit of listening, of paying close attention, -through his perfect confidence in the family interpreter. In any case, -many men of middle-age are inclined to shirk the responsibility of -effort if they can find some one willing to assume it. The deaf man -loses his _will to hear_ if not his actual hearing, the man of middle -years thus is inviting old age; both by effort could extend the “years -of grace.” ’Gene Wilson had sent a car load of potatoes to the city and -had followed to sell them, with his wife and little girl. During the -crowded noon hour he attempted to cross Broadway at Forty-second Street. -A policeman stood on guard to direct the traffic, but ’Gene did not -understand the signals. He tried to run across just as a big car started -uptown—of course the policeman shouted, but ’Gene could not hear him. -The driver could not stop in time and the deaf man was smashed to the -ground, where he lay stunned and bleeding. There was the usual call for -an ambulance, and ’Gene was hurried to a hospital. The deaf do not cry -out when injured or frightened; probably they lose the habit of this -form of expression since they do not hear others use it. Instead there -comes a whirling, a roaring of the head and a sort of mild paralysis of -the brain, but when this clears away it leaves the mind most acute and -active. ’Gene Wilson lay in this half-dazed condition, conscious only of -a fearful pounding at his brain. The doctors questioned him, but he did -not hear. They finally put him down as idiotic or at least half-insane. -Several deaf friends have told me how this label was attached to them -when they met with accidents while among strangers. One can scarcely -blame hurried, over-worked hospital doctors and nurses for paying scant -attention to such cases, and the afflicted must suffer. - -So they bandaged poor ’Gene’s head in such a way that his eyes were -covered. What difference could seeing make to a half-wit? How were those -doctors to know how much more the blessed sunshine meant to this deaf -man than it could possibly mean to them? And then ’Gene’s mind suddenly -cleared. His head was racked by pain and the roaring still sounded in -his ears, but he remembered back to the moment before the accident—and -now he found himself suddenly helpless, in the darkness. He forgot the -usual caution of the deaf and shouted! The nurses came running and tried -to make him understand, but a new terror possessed him. He tore at the -bandages which covered his eyes, but strong hands held him back; he -fought with all his power, lying there in the darkness and the silence, -but how were the nurses to understand that he was only fighting for the -sunshine? None of their explanations pacified him, so they strapped his -arms securely to the bed and held him a prisoner. Who knows what their -report might have been? - -’Gene Wilson tells me that a full thousand years of torment were crowded -for him in the next half-hour. He thinks that Dante missed one act -in his description of life in the infernal regions! ’Gene says that -frightful shapes stepped out of the shadows and seemed to lead him along -a lonely road, up close to a great house with transparent sides through -which he could look upon the grotesque shapes which dwelt therein. -Part of his mind seemed to know that it was the home of insanity. -Faces peered at him through the windows; some stared in a stupor of -melancholy, others showed grinning deviltry or hateful sneering, and -all were waiting to welcome him! And all around poor ’Gene were kindly -souls eager to help him and to draw him away from the awful place, but -he could not make them understand that he was not insane—only deaf. - -“You may believe it or not,” says ’Gene, going on with his story, “but -as I stood there struggling to get rid of those shapes at my sides my -mind searched for a strong, sane picture which should counteract the -spell of the evil ones. Suddenly there came to me the Twenty-third -Psalm, which as a boy I had committed to memory. It had been lying -forgotten at the back of my mind, but at that awful moment it returned -complete and distinct. I lay there quietly, repeating the words over and -over. - -“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in -green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my -soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. -Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will -fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort -me.” - -I told ’Gene that here was evidence of the subconscious mind throwing up -something which had been buried deep into it years before. - -“I know nothing about that,” said he; “but as I lay there repeating -those words over and over a great peace came to me. The shapes at my -side disappeared, and I could walk away from that frightful place. Then -I felt a hand on my head which somehow I recognized, and another smaller -hand caught at my thumb. They loosened those hateful bandages and let -in the light. Then I saw—as I seemed to know I should—my wife sitting -beside me, and the little girl holding my hand.” - -I could assure ’Gene that I completely believed his story, for I have -also felt the strong emotions and imaginings which stir the deaf at -such times. Always the head noises grow louder when light is withdrawn -from our hearing eyes, and the voices which go with subjective hearing -become more pronounced. Probably the deaf are more sensitive to -subconscious thought than are those who hear well; we are deprived of -much of the sound which stimulates many trains of conscious thought. -Also we deaf must naturally deal with the past where most subconscious -thought is buried. I believe that the deaf hold very closely to memories -and associations of childhood—our long, quiet hours of reflection are -largely filled with remembering the most vivid impressions we have -received. - -Perhaps this accounts for some of the terror which the darkness brings. -Many of us remember the horrible shapes which peopled the black night -around our beds, and lurked in shadowy corners, often emerging to -dance grotesquely in the moonlight. When I was the “boy” on a New -England farm there was only one room in the house which was reasonably -warm in Winter, but at eight o’clock the old farmer would point with -unmistakable significance to the tall clock in the corner, and there -was nothing for me to do but to rush through the cold parlor, up the -colder stairs into the still colder attic, where my bed was in the -shadow of the great central chimney. Needless to say, I undressed in -bed. Then down under the covers I lay and trembled at the snap of the -frost. Once a piece of plaster fell from the unfinished wall above me -and struck my shoulder; again “Malty,” the gray cat, crawled in through -a hole in the roof and sprang upon my bed, striking terror to my soul, -though she really came as an old friend. The appearance of this unknown -crawling thing on my bed inspired a frenzy of fear—but I knew that -it would do me no good to scream or call for help. My aunt was deaf, -while my uncle slept like the proverbial log; both log and deaf ear -are alike, unresponsive to sound. Also, I realized that the journey -downstairs with my story would have been unprofitable (and freezing!). -I should have been sent back with a scolding and perhaps a blow. My -own little children sometimes waken in the night with some of these -vague terrors, and I have known them to run through the dark to their -mother’s bed, where they are always taken in. My old folks were not -cruel or even consciously unkind; they merely lived in an arid region -where understanding and imagination could not come. They knew nothing -of ghosts and goblins, so why should a child fear them? Darkness was -really a good thing, if one didn’t waste lamp oil. So I lay alone with -the terrors until sleep banished them. I could not see that they must be -futile, since such an unsubstantial foe as sleep could master them. - -Of course, thousands of grey-haired persons can recall just such -terrifying childhood situations. Usually as we grow older the memories -fade away, though they are never entirely lost; they are probably -waiting in the subconsciousness for darkness and a worried mind to bring -them forth. They are clearer to the deaf, and nearer to the surface of -consciousness; hence they are more easily roused to play their strange -tricks upon us. It seems strange to me that novelists have rather -neglected this strong emotion of fear, and it is particularly remarkable -that they have seemed to slight the mighty struggle to overcome it, -which all deaf people know. - -Some years ago I planned to visit a New England town to attend a college -celebration. I had never been in this particular locality before, but -I supposed I should find a large town with full hotel accommodations, -so I took a night train. At about eleven I alighted at the railroad -station, and, to my astonishment, found myself in complete darkness. -The train made but a brief stop; it hurried off like a living thing, -glad to escape from the lonely place. I watched the last glimmer of its -rear light disappear around a distant curve, and then I was completely -wrapped in a dense, inky blackness, through which I could feel the moist -fingers of a thick, creeping fog. They seemed to clutch at my face and -throat. For an instant the old wild terror seized me, and then there -came an impulse to rush through the blackness desperately—anywhere—to -escape the clinging things which seemed to be reaching for me. But I -stood still, and finally there came to me a sort of amused sense of -adventure—I remembered the night in the hotel when I wandered about the -dark passage and ran into a drunken man. The fight sobered him, and as -he led me back to my room he thanked me, for he said that his wife was -waiting up for him. - -Now my first thought was to locate the railroad station. That would at -least prove a starting point; but I had absolutely no idea in which -direction to start, for I could not even tell whether any buildings at -all were near. The last light on the train had traveled east, but I had -turned around several times since I watched it out of sight. I dared -not call out; I remembered the deaf man who was shot and nearly killed -under similar circumstances. Being lost in the darkness, he called for -help, not knowing that he was near a farmhouse. The farmer heard him and -pointed a gun from the window, calling: - -“What do you want? Stand still or I’ll fire!” - -The deaf man continued to advance; the farmer fired at random and shot -him down. I knew better than to call out in the darkness. I did not even -dare walk freely about, for I know of a man who in the darkness about a -railroad station ran into a mowing-machine; another became entangled in -a roll of barbed wire. These incidents stayed in my mind quite vividly, -and I will confess that I got down on my hands and knees and crawled -carefully in what I hoped was the direction of the station. Foot by foot -I crept along, and at last I came up against what I took to be a picket -fence. Then a dull light began to glow down the track. The midnight -freight rumbled by, and its headlight showed the station behind me. I -had crossed the road in my travels, and now I slowly recrossed it. With -arms outstretched, I ran into the building. I carefully groped my way -around it, much as a blind man would have felt his way along a wall. -But he would travel with greater confidence, trusting to his ears to -warn him of approaching danger. I passed one corner and proceeded to the -other side, but suddenly there came to me a feeling that _someone was -near me in the dark_! I cannot describe the uncanny, “crawly” sensation -which envelops a deaf person when he senses an unseen presence. I -suffered acutely until I actually ran into a man who also seemed to be -feeling his way along the wall. He told me afterward that he had spoken -to me several times, but, of course, I did not answer. Happily he had no -pistol or he would have fired. As it was, each clutched the throat of -the other, and we struggled like two wild animals. I had the stronger -grip, and I think I know the vulnerable point in the throat. At any -rate, his hand dropped, and I knew from the quiver inside his throat -that he was gasping for breath. - -Then I told him who I was and what was my trouble. After a little -fumbling I got my hearing device into working order and held up the -mouthpiece to his month. At first he thought it was a pistol, but I -reassured him, and he told me his story. Like myself, he had come on -the late train, expecting to find a town, and a good hotel near the -station. And it happened that he was nearly blind; he retained only part -of the sight in one eye. He told me that he had heard me walking about -in the dark and had called loudly. There we were—a man nearly blind and -a deaf man, stranded in this lonely place. If ever two human beings had -need of each other, we were the men, yet a moment before both of us were -ready to fight when co-operation was the only possible hope for us. This -is not unlike the larger struggles that go on in the world. - -We agreed to graft the blind man’s ears upon my eyes, and together we -made our way slowly along the road. Our hope was to start up some dog -at a farmhouse, rouse the family by any means, and plead for lodging. -Finally, far down the road I saw a moving light. I judged it to be a -lantern in the hand of a farmer going to the barn for a last look at the -cattle before retiring. I know that New England habit. So I called and -the blind man listened. The light stopped moving at my call, and a big -voice roared back: - -“What do you want at this time of night?” - -I explained as best I could, but it was hard to convince that farmer. - -“Too thin! I’ve heard such tales before! Stop where you are till I come -back.” - -The lantern moved back to the house, and we waited in the road. Soon -three lights appeared and moved towards us. That farmer had called -up his son and the hired man, and as they moved down the road in our -direction I thought of “The Night Watch”—a fine picture I had seen -at an exhibition. The farmer carried a shotgun, the boy had an old -musket, and the hired man brandished a pitchfork. When we came within -range of the lantern, the farmer ordered us to hold up our hands while -we explained; the hired man meanwhile advanced with his pitchfork -extended as if to throw half a haycock on a wagon. These men could not -be blamed for their caution, for, as we later learned, thieves had been -busy in the neighborhood. We finally convinced the belligerents that -we were harmless. The farmer left us under the guard of the hired man -while he went to his barn and harnessed a horse. Then he carried us to -the distant town, where we routed out a sleepy landlord and ended our -adventure. But the farmer gave us a bit of homely advice. - -“If I was a deaf man, or if I had only half an eye, I’d stay at home -when night comes.” - -“But in that case you would miss a good deal of life—many adventures, -and many new friends.” - -“Well, maybe that’s so; I hadn’t thought of that.” - -He departed shaking his head over the advantages of adventurous blood, -but I think he possessed a dash of it himself. - -A friend of mine tells a Georgia experience of deafness and darkness. -Long after dark he reached the small town where he was to spend the -night. However black true “pitch” may be, there never was anything -darker than that portion of the atmosphere which surrounded the railroad -station as this deaf man stepped off the train. Finally a light appeared -from behind the station. It proved to be a dim lantern in the hands of a -colored man so black that his face seemed to make a shadow in the dark. -Conversation with the deaf regarding details is not satisfactory under -such conditions. The colored man held his lantern up near to his face -and talked, but his mouth was too large and open to make lip-reading -easy. The deaf man did finally grasp the fact that this agent of the -night represented the leading hotel in town. So, under his guidance my -friend found his way to an old closed carriage. The colored man hung his -lantern on a spring, roused his sleepy mule, and off they started over a -succession of humps and mud holes. Finally, after one tremendous bump, -the lonely lantern went out and the carriage halted. The deaf man could -distinguish ahead only two luminous spots of light; they were the eyes -of the mule, who, instead of running as a horse might have done, merely -looked reproachfully at his driver. The colored man had no matches, but -he drove on through the blackness, placidly trusting to the mule for -guidance. Now there are times in the life of every deaf man when he -must either aspire to philosophy or retire into insanity. My friend, -inside of that rickety carriage, smiled at the thought which entered -his mind. Ages before one of his stone age ancestors had crouched far -back on his bed of leaves, shrinking in terror at the evil spirits which -the darkness was hiding. Here he was in the silent darkness after all -the long ages, but he was serene in soul because hundreds of years of -artificial light had brought to him their message of courage and faith. - -The “hotel” proved to be an old-fashioned Southern mansion, rambling -and shaky, fronted by large unpainted columns which sagged a bit, -with windows that rattled and big echoing halls in which old memories -congregated. My friend was tired, and after a light supper he asked -to be taken to his room. The landlord, a grave and dignified man, who -limped a little from a wound received at Gettysburg, took up a lighted -candle and led the way to a big corner room at the back of the house on -the first floor. He put the candle and the matches down on the bureau -and then pulled out a revolver, which he placed beside the candle. - -“We have been having a little trouble with some of our niggers,” he -said. “They steal. Keep your windows fastened, and put your watch and -money under your pillow. If anyone should get in, fire first and inquire -afterward. That is our plan. Good-night.” - -This deaf man hardly knows how to fire a modern revolver. It is -doubtful if he could come anywhere near to a barn door in sunlight, to -say nothing of the inky blackness which encompassed that house. However, -he obediently put his valuables under the pillow, placed the big -revolver carefully on the chair beside his bed, blew out the light and -retired. In such a situation it seems to me that keen, quick ears would -have been a misfortune. And this deaf man, being philosophical as well -as very weary, fell asleep before he could fully realize the surrounding -conditions. - -How long he slept he cannot now tell, but he suddenly woke with a start -and sat up in bed, _knowing_ that someone was within a few feet of -him. I know that both the blind and the deaf have a curious faculty -of divining the presence of others in the silence of the darkness. My -friend knew that somewhere in the silent darkness human beings were -going through some stealthy performance. He reached for the revolver, -_but the chair upon which he had placed it was not there_! As quietly -as possible he groped his way to the bureau and found the matches. _But -it was impossible to light them._ He scratched at least a dozen until -they broke in two, but they would not ignite. The candle was in his -hand, but the light within, which he craved, could not be produced. -Alone in the silent blackness, a numb terror fell upon the heart of -the deaf man. He was as helpless as his remote ancestor, shrinking -into his primeval black cave. He was even in a worse situation, for -the cave man had hearing with which to note the approach of his enemy. -The modern man would not know how near was the lurking enemy until he -felt the clutching hand. He dared not cry out or grope for help through -that rambling house—the landlord had stipulated that questions be -asked _afterward_! Finally, urged on by that mysterious instinct of -the deaf, he groped his way along the hall until he reached the corner -window. This he opened, and he stood there waiting for the terror to -reveal itself. Suddenly he perceived that someone had passed close to -him through the outside darkness—he even felt a slight movement of air -as something passed by; he thought a human hand was laid on the window -sill for an instant. With eyes strained to the limit of tension and ears -quickened a little by terror, the deaf man realized that a door near -him had gently opened. Then came a dim sound and the air waves of a -struggle, and the deaf man knew that someone was creeping back past him -through the darkness. As startling as would have been a nail driven into -his heart came the thud and the shock of a quick blow on the side of the -house nearest him—a low, stifled cry penetrated even his dull ears. -Then off again crept a human form, feeling its way along the house. - -No, the deaf man did not dream all this. It all happened just as I -relate it. Out in that silent blackness a tragedy had been enacted. -After a time the deaf man cautiously put his hand out of the window -down toward the place where that quick blow had fallen. His reaching -fingers slowly crept down past the sill to the wooden post upon which -the house was built. There they encountered a soft, warm, sticky smear, -which coated the top of the post. The fingers did not dare to close. The -horror-stricken, lonely man held his right hand rigid and suffered one -of those crises when either philosophy or insanity must come to the aid -of the deaf. He determined to keep his mind clear. Finally he became -aware that light was coming; off in the east a crimson streak appeared -along the sky; the wind was blowing the mists away. Little by little -the light gained. The man looked at his hand, and, as he had feared, -it showed a red stain. The light grew, and he finally gained courage -to look out of the window. The post was covered with blood. There was -still visible the mark of a blow of an axe. Just back from the corner -was a small house, within which a rooster was crowing—half a dozen hens -were on their way out for the day’s wanderings. In the door of a small -cook-house in the backyard a fat colored woman was picking a Plymouth -Rock chicken. The deaf man glanced once more at the house post and saw -on the ground beside it the head of a rooster! - -It was a thoughtful man who washed his hands and looked about the room. -The revolver still lay on the chair where he had placed it; he had -evidently put his hand out on the wrong side of the bed. There was the -candle and there were the matches—untouched; near at hand was a _box of -toothpicks_, half of them broken in pieces, with scratches on the box. - -Later the deaf man sat out in the gallery, watching the sun rise, his -mind busy with strange matters as he waited for breakfast. At length the -landlord appeared. - -“I hope, sir, you rested well. I feared you might be disturbed. We -wanted to give you a taste of fried chicken, Georgia style, so the -nigger killed one this morning. I hope it did not disturb you, sir.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -“GROUCH” OR GENTLEMAN - - -When a man becomes convinced that he is definitely headed for the -silence, he must make up his mind whether he is to be a grouch or a -gentleman. The word “grouch” has not yet been fully accepted by the -guardians of good English, but it seems to me one of the most expressive -words in the language. Perhaps that is because I have spent much time -in trying to escape from the condition which might probably carry this -label. The deaf man may, if he will, excel all others in playing the -part. Here is one case in which he may certainly pose as a star. It -is hardly possible for a grouch to be a gentleman, and it is quite -inconceivable that the gentleman should wish to be a grouch. Yet, if -left to himself, the deaf man will naturally come to play the part, -and it is certainly the one part in the great adventure of life which -he can handle to perfection. The grouch wraps himself in a mantle of -gloom and tries to throw the skirts of it all around his fellow-men. -The gentleman, when under the spell of affliction, struggles to light -a candle of faith and hope within him that will make his whole life -luminous as he walks among men. It costs most of us a struggle in our -efforts to throw off depression and appear content with life, and the -struggle will be long and constant, but it is worth while, and so in -this last chapter I would like to briefly review some of the rules of -life which have come home to me during my sojourn in silence. I have -found in my own case that I paid very little attention to the rules and -regulations of the trouble, but, at any rate, those of us who have been -over the ground like to nail up the danger signal when we can. - -The deaf should remember that they are in a way abnormal. We cannot be -like other men. It could not well be otherwise when we realize that we -are deprived of what is perhaps the most important of the senses. It -seems to me far better to face the fact that we cannot well conceal our -handicap. Usually when we mingle with others in everyday life every -person within 100 feet of us will know sooner or later that we are deaf. -Some of the worst blunders which the deaf man can make are those which -come from pretending that he can hear. We shall receive better treatment -and be freer from disappointment if we frankly admit our handicap and -throw ourselves upon the generosity of our friends, or even of strangers. - -I suppose that curiosity causes more real torture to the deaf man than -anything else. Some of the deaf are exceedingly curious. They must know -what others are talking about, and they often pester their companions -almost beyond endurance in an effort to learn all the trivial details -of small conversation. They bring themselves to believe that most -conversation going on about them refers to something in which they are -vitally interested, and in this way they come to imagine all sorts of -disagreeable things. This idle curiosity leads to endless grief and -trouble. Forget it! That brief advice is peculiarly applicable to the -deaf, for it is much harder for them to forget things than for those -whose minds are constantly diverted by sound. One of the greatest -troubles of the average deaf man is that he cannot forget the things -which annoy except by driving them out of the brain by new suggestions, -or by forcing himself to think of happier and more interesting things. -That is why every deaf person should have some harmless or interesting -hobby which he can always mount and spur into speed whenever the imps -of the silence come out of their holes. Yet, there is such a thing as -riding a hobby so hard that the rider loses his hat, and the deaf man -makes a very ridiculous John Gilpin when his hobby runs away with him. - -Above all things, we must believe in the loyalty and affection of our -family and companions. Remember that they are human, perhaps more so -than we are. We can easily become a nuisance to them. They may perhaps -show their annoyance for the moment, but at heart they are true, and -we should never lose faith in them, if we can possibly avoid it. I -think, too, it is a mistake to allude to our trouble as an affliction, -as too many of us are tempted to do. It is a handicap, and often a very -serious one. Yet, we may easily find people with real afflictions, -worse than ours, and we well know that we would not readily change -our identity if such a thing could be done. I find that successful -teachers of lip-reading insist that deafness should never be spoken -of as an affliction. It is a handicap, perhaps, but the surest way to -make it worse is to go about classing the deaf with afflicted people; -and the intelligent deaf scarcely, if ever, speak of those who are deaf -and dumb. That is a term to be avoided, for education or scientific -treatment is ending that condition. The entire life of the deaf, if they -hope to enjoy even ordinary happiness, must be built on the sunshine -theory; always search for the bright side. In all our life there is -nothing so destructive of character as self-pity. Far better look -about for undoubted advantages of life in the silence, and train our -rebellious spirits to work patiently under the yoke. In that way we -may easily gain new strength of character and greater power from our -trouble. I like to repeat the statement over and over that I have found -this a good world. It is well filled with kindly people, who on the -whole are ready to give every man with a handicap a fair start if they -can only be made to realize that he is willing to fight the good fight -with cheerfulness and without complaint. - -I have found it well to go out among my fellow-men and take my chances -on getting through. Some people seem to think that deafness should shut -them away from travel or society. I cannot agree with that. I think we -should move about among people. It is, I grant, a peculiar sensation -at times to realize the appalling loneliness of a crowd. You stand in -groups of people, see them move about, know that they are talking and -laughing; you can reach out your hand and touch them; yet, for all that, -you are living in another world apart from them. It gives one at times -an uncanny feeling to realize such a situation, yet I think it is well -for us to seek our fellows in this way, and live among them. It gives -us opportunity for the finest study of character, and if we would only -think so, there are few things more interesting or exciting than the -attempt to locate strangers in occupation or habit by their appearance. -Some deaf people seek to hide themselves, and shun society and travel -through fear of ridicule or accident. This is, I believe, a mistake. So -long as one has eyes of reasonable strength which may be trained for -quick and close observation, it is far better for the mind and spirit -to get out among men. When you go on a journey, always plan to carry a -flashlight lantern and an abundant supply of paper and pencils. You are -quite sure at some point of your travels to find yourself in darkness -along the way, and there is little hope for the deaf man in the dark. -Unless you are expert at lip-reading, my advice would be to insist upon -having the message written out. With the very deaf attempts to make them -hear or to communicate by signs are little better than wide guesses. -In all my experiences I have never found but two people who refused -to write the information when I called for it. One was an impatient, -selfish man, and the other a woman, who evidently feared that certain -young men would laugh at her if she made herself conspicuous with a -deaf man. In one of these cases a bystander, seemingly ashamed of the -discourtesy shown me, volunteered to help me, and was ready to fight -the man who had refused. Oh, I shall have to repeat it once more! I -have found this a good world to live in. It is filled with people who -at heart are kindly and sympathetic. Many of the fancied rebuffs which -we experience are due to the fact that people do not understand how to -communicate with us. Above all things, the deaf man should never lose -his nerve. He should always believe that he is the favorite “child of -fate,” sure to come through every obstacle. Then let him go bravely and -confidently on his way, supremely sure that he will be cared for. - -The problem of occupation is the vital one for the deaf. What can we do -to earn a living when our hearing fails? There is without question a -prejudice against the deaf which it is hard to overcome. We who live in -the silence cannot quite understand why people seem to fear us, and are -evidently uncomfortable when we come near. We are as harmless as anyone, -and we are capable of giving good service, but we realize only too well -that society in general seems to class us among the undesirables. I know -of one woman who is struggling to support and educate two children. She -is an admirable cook, good housekeeper, clean, quick and efficient, yet -no one wants to employ her because she is deaf. One would think that -her condition would be something of an advantage in a household where -there are family secrets to be kept. But, no matter how capable this -woman may be, most people seem afraid to employ her. The fact is that -the condition of deafness is a distinct advantage in many cases—for -example, the faithful deaf helper will not be liable to change -frequently. He will stay by his employer, yet most deaf people come face -to face with prejudice which society shows them. - -I know of a clergyman who filled his pulpit acceptably until deafness -drove him from it. One might think without bitterness that a man of -God with a trouble of this sort might in his daily life come closer to -what his people need, but his congregation would not have it so, and -he was retired. For some years the old man lived in the town, sawing -and splitting wood for a living. The woodpile he built was a sermon on -neatness and honest labor, and he went happily on through life. Someone -asked him how he could be cheerful at such labor, and his answer was: -“I put joy in my job.” There are deaf men in all walks of life. Some -are highly successful as teachers, editors, salesmen, watchmen and -other lines where one would suppose that perfect hearing is more than a -necessity. In general a deaf man must take the work that comes to him. -He cannot always choose, but he can usually dignify any job, and excel -at it if he will keep his courage and put his mind to it. He should -remember that spirit of the old minister who, when retired from his -pulpit, took up the saw and axe, and was cheerful because he put joy in -the job. - -The moving picture show is a wonderful help to the deaf. Here he is on -terms of equality with all men. In this remarkable world of the movies, -where the villain is always punished and the virtuous always emerge -with roses and a crown, the deaf man may find much of that optimism -which seems like an electric light to the soul. It is the height of -enjoyment for him to see pictures illustrating some favorite book thrown -on the screen, and that enables him to make a mental comparison with -his own conception of the characters in the story. The fact is that -the life of the ambitious deaf is one long effort to keep cheerful -and bright-minded, and thus steer away from depression. To that end -he should soak his mind with all possible poetry and humor and good -literature. In fact, let him take in anything that will frame pleasant -pictures on the walls of his mind, and it is a blessing ranking close to -a godsend to be able to sleep when other aids in the struggle against -depression fail. There will surely come times after the work has been -laid aside when all the wakeful philosophy will fail to keep the spirit -bright. Then the ability to lie down and sleep becomes a genuine -heavenly gift; for in sleep the head noises and troubles are forgotten, -when we may even hear music and voices of friends. And do you know -that in that thought lies one of the most curious and pathetic things -connected with the life of the deaf? We wonder just how the voices of -wife and son or friends actually sound. In real fact they may croak like -ravens or scream like a door that needs oiling, but to us in imagination -they are musical and full of sympathy. I think that of all the curious, -mysterious things which come to us in this world of silence there is -nothing sadder or more remarkable than this unsatisfied desire to listen -to the actual tones which ring in the voices of those we love. - -It is without doubt true that the deaf are closer to subconscious -thought than those who have perfect hearing. It seems to be easier for -us to go back to childhood or to raise into the mind memories of other -days. It often becomes a wonder to me that old friends forget so many of -the scenes and sayings of youth. I presume they have more to distract -their attention. It seems to me that the useless or trivial conversation -which most people indulge in must in time dilute or distort memory and -drive away the pictures of youth. With the deaf these pictures seem -to grow clearer with each year, and this, I take it, is one of the -compensations which accompany the trouble. For as we march along the -road and reach a hill from which we begin to see the end, I think it -must be a lonely road which those must travel who have forgotten the -pictures and companions of their youth. It is practically impossible for -the deaf to weep as others do. They are for the most part denied what I -may call the healing balm of tears, unless there can occur some great -shock, some volcanic eruption of emotion which breaks down the dam and -lets in the flood upon a dry desert of lonely years. But the deaf man -who has kept his mind cleanly occupied and his spirit bright may find in -happy memories a joy of life which others rarely know. - - “Sometimes when night pulls down the shade after a weary day, - I sit beside my open fire and watch the shadows play. - Then memory takes me by the hand, and happily we go - Back to the kindly days of youth—when I was Mary’s beau. - - Oh! Mary! In those golden years, when you and I were young, - When all the symphonies of youth by hopeful lips were sung, - When every avenue of life led out to rosy skies, - And fortune’s fingers dangled there the gifts that all men prize! - - Old Time is kind. He hides the years which bear the loss and stain, - And only those which shine with love and happiness remain. - As one may find a violet beneath the Winter’s snow, - I go back to the kindly years—when I was Mary’s beau. - - I was a chunky farmer boy—her father lord of lands. - She was a little village queen—I only had my hands. - Yet in the pure democracy of our New England town - Youth never could be quite denied—love beat the barriers down. - - Yet she was wise—to reign a queen—one must keep step with wealth. - And Mary knew full well that I had nothing but my health. - To me she played a sister’s part—but settled down with Joe, - I went out West with but a dream that I was Mary’s beau. - - I’ve journeyed East, I’ve journeyed West—I’ve had my hour of life. - I’ve lingered in the pleasant ways—I’ve faced the storm and strife. - Fame, wealth, have missed me and yet they will envy me I know, - Those days back in the golden years—when I was Mary’s beau. - - No, no, dear wife, deny me not these fair old dreams of youth, - You well may smile, for life has taught the patience and the truth. - Time tried, long tested, up the hill we’ve journeyed side by side, - Or drifted in the ebb and flow of fortune’s fateful tide. - - The years may come, the years may go, yet love will find the test. - Youth’s dreams are good, yet that which lives on life’s hard road - is best, - And so you grant me my romance—perhaps I do not know, - You, too, are thinking of the days when you were Henry’s beau. - - And so I sit beside the fire when night pulls down the blind, - And wander back to youth once more with all my cares behind. - The winds of trouble rage outside, we care not how they blow, - Back in those golden days of youth—when I was Mary’s beau.” - - - * * * * * - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures in Silence, by -Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES IN SILENCE *** - -***** This file should be named 61918-0.txt or 61918-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/1/61918/ - -Produced by ellinora, Brian Wilsden and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/61918-0.zip b/old/61918-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index bad264d..0000000 --- a/old/61918-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61918-h.zip b/old/61918-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ac7e706..0000000 --- a/old/61918-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61918-h/61918-h.htm b/old/61918-h/61918-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d427e69..0000000 --- a/old/61918-h/61918-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8194 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Adventures in Silence, by Herbert W. Collingwood. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} - -.small {font-size: 75%;} -.smaller {font-size: 90%;} -.large {font-size: 120%;} - -.break-before {page-break-before: always;} - - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.topspace1 {margin-top:1em;} -.topspace2 {margin-top:2em;} -.topspace3 {margin-top:3em;} -.topspace4 {margin-top:4em;} - -.bottomspace1 {margin-bottom:1em;} - -.sig-right5 {text-align:right; padding-right: 5%;} - -.blockindent35 {margin-left: 25%; margin-right:25%; text-align:justify; font-size:100%;} - -.blockindent-poem {margin-left: -4%;} - -table { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -/* Poetry */ - -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} - -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} - -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} - -.poetry .verse-first-line {text-indent: -0.5em;} - -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} -.poetry .indent8 {text-indent: 1em;} - -@media handheld -{ - .poetry - { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - } -} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's Adventures in Silence, by Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Adventures in Silence - -Author: Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -Release Date: April 24, 2020 [EBook #61918] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES IN SILENCE *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Brian Wilsden and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="topspace2"></div> -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book Cover" width="500" height="725" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h1> -ADVENTURES IN<br /> -SILENCE</h1> - -<div class="center large topspace3"><i>BY</i><br /><br /> -HERBERT W. COLLINGWOOD -</div> - -<div class="center small topspace4"><i>Distributed by</i></div> -<div class="center large topspace1">THE RURAL NEW YORKER<br /> -<span class="smaller">333 WEST 30th STREET<br /> -NEW YORK</span> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> -<div class="center smaller">Copyright, 1923<br /><br /> -<span class="large">By <span class="smcap">HERBERT W. COLLINGWOOD</span></span></div> -<div class="center smaller topspace3"><i>Printed in U. S. A.</i></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 2]</span></p> - -<div class="center">TO E. W. C.<br /> -WHOSE RARE SYMPATHY AND<br /> -SISTERLY UNDERSTANDING HAVE<br /> -HELPED ONE DEAF MAN THROUGH<br /> -THE SILENCE. -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">INTRODUCTION</h2> -</div> - -<p>There are in this country about 75,000 people who were never able to -hear. There are also about half a million who have lost all or part of -their hearing, and more than one million in addition who must use some -contrivance to aid their ears. This army, nearly as large as the one -sent overseas, is forced to live a strange and mysterious life, which -most normal persons know nothing about, even though they come into daily -contact with the outposts. The ordinary deaf man is usually regarded -as a joke or a nuisance, according to the humor of his associates. -This social condition is largely due to the fact that he has found -no place in literature; he occupies an abnormal position because his -story has never been fairly told. The lame, the halt and the blind -have been driven or gently led into literature. Poem, essay and story -have described their lives, their habits, their needs; as a result the -average person of reasonable intelligence has a fair notion of what it -is like to be crippled or blind. <em>But no one tells what it is like to -be deaf.</em> No one seems to love a deaf man well enough to analyze his -thought or to describe the remarkable world in which he must live apart, -although he may be close enough to his companions to touch them and to -see their every action. Very likely this is our own fault; perhaps we -have no right to expect the public to do for us - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 4]</span> - -what we should do for ourselves. I have long felt that we are sadly -handicapped socially through this failure to put our life and our -strange adventures into literature—the deaf person must remain -a joke or a tragedy until he has made the world see something of the -finer side of his life in the silence. This is why I have attempted to -record these “adventures.” I am aware that it is rather a crude pioneer -performance. Beginnings are rarely impressive. Much as we respect the -pioneer of years ago, very few of us would care to house and entertain -him today. It is my hope that this volume will lead other deaf persons -to record their experiences, so that we may present our case fully to -the public. The great trouble is that we find it so easy to make a -genuine “tale of woe” out of our experience; it is hardly possible to -avoid this if we record honestly. Perhaps we “enjoy the thought of our -affliction” so thoroughly that we do not realize that the reading public -has no use for it. My own method of avoiding this has been to turn the -manuscript over to my daughter and to walk away from it, leaving her -entirely free to cut the “grouch” out of it with the happy instruments -of youth and hope and music. With us the great adventure of life is to -pass contentedly from the world of sound into the world of silence and -there strive to prepare ourselves for the world of serenity which lies -beyond.</p> - -<p class="sig-right5"> H. W. COLLINGWOOD.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 5-6]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table summary="contents"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"> </span></td> -<td class="tdr">Page</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Terrors that are Imaginary</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On the Road to Silence</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Head Noises and Subjective Audition</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Facing the Hard Situation</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Heart for Any Fate</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Memories of Early Life</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Experimenting With the Deaf Man</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Companions in Trouble</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Approach to Silence</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mixing Word Meanings</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Whispering Wire</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">“No Music in Himself”</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Silence Not Always Golden</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Cases of Mistaken Identity</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">All in a Lifetime</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">“Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination” </span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">“The Terror That Flieth By Night”</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">“Grouch” or Gentleman</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 7-8]</span></p> -<div class="large center break-before"> -ADVENTURES IN SILENCE</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">Terrors That Are Imaginary</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The World of Silence Uncharted—Two Initial Incidents, -Darkness in the Tunnel, and at Home—Imaginary Terrors of -the Deaf—When John Harlow Thought He Was a Murderer. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">For some years I have considered writing a book concerning the life of -the deaf or the “hard of hearing.” It is hard to understand why our -peculiar and interesting life in the silent world has not been more -fully recorded. We read of adventures in strange lands, far away, yet -here is a stranger country close by, with its mysteries and miseries -uncharted. Having lived in this silent world for some years, I have -often planned to make an effort to describe it. However, like many other -writers, I could not get going. I was not able to start my story until -two rather unusual incidents spurred me into action.</p> - -<p>Those of you who know industrial New York understand how the vast army -of commuters is rushed to the city each day and rushed home again at -night. From New Jersey alone a crowd of men and women larger by far than -the entire population of the State of Vermont is carried to the banks of -the Hudson from a territory sixty miles in diameter. Once at the river - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 10]</span> - -bank there are two ways by which these commuters may reach the city. -They may float over in the great ferryboats, or they may dive under the -river in rapid trains driven through a tube far below the water. This -submarine travel is the quicker and more popular way, and during the -rush hours the great tunnel makes one think of a mighty tube of vaseline -or tooth paste with a giant hand squeezing a thick stream of humanity -out of the end.</p> - -<p>I reach the Hudson over the Erie Railroad. At this point the underground -tube makes a wide curve inland, and in order to get to the trains we -must walk through a long concrete cave far underground. The other -morning several trains arrived at the Erie station together, and their -passengers were all dumped into this cave like grain poured into a long -sack. There was a solid mass of humanity slowly making its way to the -end. The city worker naturally adapts himself to a crowd. He at once -becomes an organized part of it. Take a thousand countrymen, each from -the wide elbow room of his farm, and throw them together in a mass and -they would trample each other in a panic. The city crowd, as long as -it can be kept good-natured, will march on in orderly fashion; but let -it once be overcome by fear, and it will be more uncontrolled than the -throngs of countrymen.</p> - -<p>This cave is brilliantly lighted, and we were moving on in orderly - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 11]</span> - -procession, without thought of danger. We would move forward perhaps 50 -feet and then halt for a moment—to move ahead once more. During one -of these halts I looked about me. At my right was a group of giggling -girls; at my left a white-faced, nervous man; behind, a lame man, and in -front two great giants in blouse and overalls. I was close by the change -booth. A slight, pale-faced young woman sat within; the piles of money -in front of her. A husky, rough-looking man was offering a bill to be -changed. I saw it all, and as I looked, in an instant the lights flashed -out and left us in inky darkness.</p> - -<p>I have been left in dark, lonely places where I groped about without -touching a human being, but it was far more terrifying to stand in that -closely packed crowd and to realize what would happen in case of a -panic. I reached out my hand and could touch a dozen people, but I could -hear no sound. Suppose these silly girls were to scream; suppose this -man at my elbow were to yell “Fire!” as fools have often done in such -crowds. Suppose that man at the booth reached in, strangled the girl and -swept the money out. At any of these possible alarms that orderly crowd -in the dark might change to a wild mob, smashing and trampling its way -back to the entrance, as uncontrollable as the crazy herds of cattle -I had seen in Western stampedes. The deaf man thinks quickly at such -times, and in the black silence dangers are magnified. The deaf are - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 12]</span> - -usually peculiar in their mental make-up; most of them have developed -the faculty of intuition into a sense, and they can quickly grasp many -situations which the average man would hardly imagine.</p> - -<p>But there was no scream or call of alarm. After what seemed to me half -an hour of intense living, the lights flashed back and the big clock at -the end of the cave, solemnly ticking the time away, showed us that we -had been less than 50 seconds in darkness. With a good-natured laugh the -crowd moved on. Those girls had had no thought of screaming. They were -more interested in the group of young men behind them. That nervous man, -whom I had thought trembling with fright, had been laughing at the joke. -The rough-looking man, whom my fancy had painted as a possible murderer -and thief, had been standing before that money like a faithful dog on -guard. There had been danger of a panic, and I had sensed it, but most -of my companions had thought of nothing except the joke of being held up -for a moment. They were happier for their lack of imagination.</p> - -<p>At home I started to tell our people about it. The baby sat on my knee. -She had my knife in her hand, paring an apple. Mother sat by the table -sewing, and the children were scattered about the room. Suddenly the -lights snapped out. I put up my hand just in time to catch the knife -as the baby swung her arm at my face. And there we sat, waiting for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 13]</span> - -the lights to return. There was no fear, for we knew each other. There -was faith in that darkness; there could be no panic. I could hear no -sound, yet the baby curled up close to me and all was well. Darkness is -the worst handicap for the deaf. Give them light and they can generally -manage; but, in the dark, without sound, they are helpless, and unless -they are blessed with strong faith and philosophy, imagination comes -and prints a series of terror pictures for them which you with your -dependable hearing can hardly realize.</p> - -<p>These incidents gave me my start by bringing to my mind the story of -John Harlow, curiously typical of the imaginary terrors of the deaf and -the folly of giving way to them. John Harlow was a New England man. He -had all the imagination and all the narrow prejudice of his class; he -had never traveled west of his own corner of the nation, and he was -deaf. The man who carries this combination of qualities about with him -is booked for trouble whenever he gets out among new types of people. -Part of the Harlow property was invested in land lying in the mountains -of Eastern Kentucky, and it became necessary for John to go there, to -look up titles and investigate agents.</p> - -<p>About all the average New Englander of that day knew of that mountain -country was that it seemed to be the stage on which bloody family -feuds were fought out. The <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite> had printed stories by - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 14]</span> - -Charles Egbert Craddock, and they were accepted as true pictures of -mountain life. John Harlow should have known that the New Englanders -and the mountaineers are alike the purest in real American blood, and -that they must have many traits in common; but he went South with the -firm conviction that life in the mountains must be one long tragedy of -ambuscades and murders.</p> - -<p>When a deaf man gets such ideas in mind, imagination prints them in red -ink, because the deaf must brood over their fears and troubles. They -cannot lighten the mind with music or aimless conversation. So when -Harlow left the train at a little mountain hamlet he was not surprised -to find his agent a tall, solemn-eyed man, with a long gray beard; a -typical leader in the family feud, as the Boston man had pictured it. -Harlow mounted the buckboard beside this silent mountaineer, and they -drove off into the mountains just as the dusky shadows were beginning to -creep down into the little nooks and valleys. As soon as this man found -that John was deaf he drove on in silence, glancing at his companion now -and then with that kindly awe with which simple people generally regard -the deaf.</p> - -<p>It was quite dark when they reached a small “cove” or opening in which -stood a large house, with the usual farm buildings around it; the -forest crept close to the barn at one point. It struck John that the -buildings were arranged in the form of a fort, but what a chance had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 15]</span> - -been left for the enemy to creep up through the woods and suddenly fall -upon them! After supper John stood at the window watching the moon lift -itself over the mountain and go climbing up the sky. There came to his -mind the description of just such a moonrise, from one of Craddock’s -stories, where a group of mountaineers came creeping over the hill to -fall upon the home of their enemy. As he stood there he became aware -that the whole family was making preparations for what seemed to him -like defense. The women came and pulled down the curtains, and one of -the boys went out and closed the heavy shutters. His host came and tried -to explain, but Harlow was nervous, and it is hard to make the deaf hear -at such times. All that he could catch were scattered words or parts -of sentences. “We are waiting for them.” “They will be here by nine -o’clock.” “There is a pistol for you.” “They have done us great damage.” -“We must kill them tonight.”</p> - -<p>Then the lights were put out, and even the great fire in the fireplace -was dimmed; a rug was thrown over the crack under the door, and they all -sat there—waiting. John Harlow, the deaf man, will never forget that -scene. The little splinter of light from the fire revealed the stern -old man and his three sons waiting, gun in hand, and the women sitting -by the table, knitting mechanically in the dimness—all listening for -the coming of the enemy. By the door lay two large dogs, alert and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 16]</span> - -watchful. And Harlow, pulled from a comfortable place in Boston and -suddenly made a part of this desperate family quarrel, did not even know -what it was all about. He started twice to demand an explanation in the -loud, harsh tones of the deaf, but the older man quickly waved him to -silence.</p> - -<p>How long they sat in that dim light Harlow cannot tell. He never thought -to look at his watch. Suddenly the dogs lying by the door started up -with low growls and bristling hair.</p> - -<p>“Here they are,” said the old man; “now get ready.”</p> - -<p>He thrust a pistol into John’s hand and took him by the arm as the -boys silently opened the door and passed out with the dogs. John found -himself following. In the moonlight they crept along the shadow of the -buildings out to the point where the woods crawled in almost to the -barn. There the old man crept off to one side. For the moment the moon -was obscured by a passing cloud. Then its light burst upon them, and -John from his hiding-place distinctly saw three forms crawling slowly -across the grassy field to the back of the barn. In the clear moonlight -he could distinguish three white faces, peering through the deep grass. -They would move slowly forward a few feet, and then halt, apparently to -listen. The deaf man in this strange, lonely place, thought he saw three -desperate men making their way to the barn buildings. This very thing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 17]</span> - -had been described in one of the stories he had read; three mountaineers -had crawled slowly through the grass to set fire to the barn. And it -came to John’s mind that these three white-faced fiends were creeping up -to burn down this home and then shoot down its occupants by the light -from the burning! The nearest crawler came slowly to within two rods of -John and raised his head to look about him. As viewed in the moonlight -it seemed a hideous face, hardly human in its aspect.</p> - -<p>John Harlow was a man of peace, and he had been cursing himself for -having been brought into this neighborhood quarrel. It was none of -his business, he told himself, but the sight of this cowardly wretch -crawling up like a snake to fire the buildings was too much for Boston -reserve, and John raised his pistol, took aim at that hateful white face -and pulled the trigger. The figure seemed to throw itself in the air at -the shot, and then it lay quiet, the ghastly face still in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>As John fired there came a sharp volley from the other buildings, and -the two other shapes lay still. A cloud passed over the moon, and -through the darkness, feeling himself a murderer, John found his way -back to the house, where the women were waiting with eager faces. They -lighted the lamps once more and the men came tramping back, to hang -their guns on the wall. They were all in great spirits, and the old man - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 18]</span> - -came to John’s chair and with much shouting and waving his hands, made -the deaf man understand.</p> - -<p>“You made a great shot. Got him right between the eyes. We got them all -laid out on the grass—come out and see them.”</p> - -<p>But John did not want to see these dead men! He was a murderer. He had -killed a man, perhaps an innocent stranger who had never done him wrong. -It was frightful, but even the women insisted that he come, so with his -eyes shut John permitted himself to be drawn out to the hateful spot -where those dead bodies were lying.</p> - -<p>“There’s the one you got!” roared a voice in his ear.</p> - -<p>“You must be a dead shot—look at him; see how white he is!”</p> - -<p>And Harlow opened his eyes, expecting to see a picture which could never -be erased from memory. There were the dead bodies on the grass before -him in the lantern light. There were three big skunks with more than the -usual amount of white about their faces and backs!</p> - -<p>Harlow gazed at them, and his paralyzed mind slowly came back to -normal working order. And then the light came. He had not taken part -in any family feud. No one had tried to kill him. The people of that -section were as kindly neighbors as any he had ever had in Boston. For -some weeks the skunks had been stealing chickens, and the family had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 19]</span> - -organized this successful defense. It was not the white face of a man -that John had seen in the tangled grass, but the white head and back of -a skunk. He was not a murderer—he was only a skunk-killer!</p> - -<p>Most deaf men go through these “adventures in silence.” Many of them -are not particularly thrilling, but they are sometimes exciting enough -to let the imagination run away with us. In what follows I shall try to -make it clear that most of our fears are imaginary—thin ghosts, stuffed -lions, scarecrows (or skunks!) which stand beside the road to frighten -us. For the deaf should know from experience that the only safety in -life is to <em>go on</em>, no matter what dangers croakers or cowards may -predict just around the curve.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">On the Road to Silence</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The Nature of the Journey to the Silent -Country—Substitutes for Perfect Silence—Sounds of Nature -Companionable—The Direct Attack—“Just As I am”—Compensation in -Idealized Memories—“Cut Out the Bitterness”—Reasons for Writing -the Book—A Matter of Point of View, Concerning John Armstrong’s -Possessions. </p> - - -<p class="topspace2">I think life has given me a certificate which qualifies me to act as -guide and interpreter on the journey to the Silent Land. For forty -years I have been traveling along the road to silence. I have seen some -unfortunate people who were suddenly deprived of their hearing, as it -seemed without warning. Fate did not give them even a chance to prepare -for the death of sound. It was as if some cruel hand had suddenly -dragged them into a prison, a form of living death through which the -poor bewildered wretches must wander aimlessly until they could in some -feeble way adjust themselves to the new conditions which we shall find -in the world of silence. Happily my journey was not made in that way. -I have wandered slowly and gently along the road, each year coming a -little nearer to silence, yet working on so easily and unobtrusively -that the way has not seemed hard and rough. I know every step of the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 21]</span> - -road, and I can point out the landmarks as we pass along. You may be -compelled to travel over the same route alone some day. Perhaps your -feet are upon it even now, unknown to you. Take my advice and notice the -milestones as you pass them.</p> - -<p>Let’s not hurry. Let our journey be like one of those happy family -wanderings in the old farm days, long before the age of gasoline. On a -Sunday afternoon we would all start walking, on past the back of the -farm. Father, mother and the baby, all would go. We could stop to drink -from the spring, to rest under the pines, to stand on the hill looking -off over the valleys. The beauty of the walk was that time was no -object; our destination was nowhere in particular, and we always reached -it. No one hears of those family trips in these days. We “go” now. The -family, smaller than of old, will crowd into a car and go rushing about -the country in an effort to cover as many miles as possible, and to do -as little sight-seeing as may be during the rush. Now, we shall not -hurry, and there will be no great objection to our leaving the road now -and then to gather flowers or bright stones, or to watch a bird or a -squirrel. We shall need all the pleasant memories we can think of when -we arrive.</p> - -<p>Very likely you have before now entered into a “solitude where none -intrude,” and have thought yourself entirely alone in the silence. But - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 22]</span> - -you had not reached the real end of the road. You missed some of the -familiar sounds of your everyday life, but there were substitutes. There -was always the low growl of the ocean, the murmur of the wind among -the trees, the cheerful ripple of the brook, the song of the birds, or -some of the many sweet sounds of nature. It was not the silence which -we know, nor were the voices which came to you harsh or distorted. They -were clear and true, even though they were strange to you.</p> - -<p>I did not realize how largely the habits of our life are bound up in -sound until some years ago we hired a city woman to come and work in our -farmhouse. We live in a lonely place. This woman spent one night with -us. In the morning she came with terror in her eyes and begged to be -taken back to New York.</p> - -<p>“It’s so still here; I can’t sleep!”</p> - -<p>It was true. Her ears had become so accustomed to the harsh noises of -the city that every nerve and faculty had been tuned to them. The quiet -of the country was as irksome to her as the constant city noises are -annoying to the countryman, just from his silent hills. Perhaps you -have awakened suddenly in the night in some quiet country place, let us -say in the loneliness of Winter in the hill country. You looked from -the window across the glittering snow to the dark pines which seemed to -prison the farm and house. You fancied that you had finally reached - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 23]</span> - -the world of silence, and you were seized by a nameless terror as you -imagined what would happen to you if sight were suddenly withdrawn. Then -you heard the timbers of the house creak with the cold, the friendly -wind sighed through the trees and around the corner of the house. There -came faint chords of weird music as from an æolian harp when it passed -over some wire fence. Or perhaps there came to you the faint step of -some prowling animal. Then the terror vanished before these sounds of -the night. For this is not the world which I ask you to enter with me. -We are bound for the world of the deaf. I tell you in advance that it -is a dull, drab world, without music or pleasant conversation, into -which none of the natural tones of the human voice or the multitudinous -sounds of nature can come. You must leave them all behind, and you will -never realize how much they have meant to you until they are out of your -reach. Could you readjust your life for a new adventure in this strange -world?</p> - -<p>The deaf man must carry this world of silence about with him always, -and it leads him into strange performances. I know a deaf man who went -to a church service. He could hear nothing of the sermon, but he felt -something of the glory of worship, and when the congregation stood up to -sing my deaf friend felt that here was where he could help.</p> - -<p>“Just as I am, without one plea,” announced the preacher, and the deaf - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 24]</span> - -man’s wife found the place in the hymn book. He sang along with the rest -and thoroughly enjoyed it. However, one of the penalties of the Silent -Country is that its inhabitants can rarely keep in step with the crowd. -My friend did not realize that at the end of each verse the organist was -expected to play a short interlude before the next verse started. There -has never seemed to me to be any reason for these ornamental musical -flourishes; they merely keep us from getting on with our singing.</p> - -<p>The deaf man knew nothing of all this. He was there to finish the -singing of that hymn. It is a habit of the deaf to go straight to the -end, since there is no reason why they should stop to listen. So he -started in on the second verse as all the rest were marking time through -that useless interlude, and he sang a solo:</p> - -<p>“Just as I am, and waiting not!”</p> - -<p>He sang with all his power, he was in good voice and his heart was -full of the glory of the service. He was never a singer at best, and -the voice of a deaf person is never musical. This hard, metallic voice -cut into that interlude much like the snarl of a buzz saw. His wife -tried to stop him, but he could not quite get the idea, and he sang -on. It is rather a curious commentary on the slavery to habit which -most intelligent human beings willingly assume that this one earnest -man, just as little out of step, nearly destroyed the inspiration of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 25]</span> - -that church service. The unconscious solo would have taken all the -worship from the hearts of that congregation had it not been for the -quick-witted organist.</p> - -<p>Some human beings have risen to the mental capacity of animals in -understanding and conveying a form of unspoken language. It may be -“instinct,” “intuition,” or what you will, but in some way they are able -to convey their meaning without words. I have found many such people -in the world of silence. The organist possessed this power. Before the -deaf man had sung five words she had stopped playing her interlude, had -caught the time of what he was singing, and was signaling the choir to -join her. By the time they reached the end of the second line at “one -dark spot” the entire congregation was singing as though nothing had -happened. The minister, too, sensed the situation, for at the end of the -verse, before the deaf man could make another start, he said:</p> - -<p>“Let us pray.” And the incident was happily closed.</p> - -<p>As I look about me in the world of silence and see some of the sad -blunders of my fellows, I feel that in their poor way they illustrate -something of the life tragedy which often engulfs the reformer. The deaf -man does not know or has forgotten that those who are blessed with good -hearing do not and cannot go straight to the mark. Much of their time -is wasted on useless “interludes” or ornamental flourishes which mean - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 26]</span> - -nothing in work or worship. This man at the church, while his heart -was full, could only think of getting that hymn through, earnestly, -lovingly, and without loss of time. He may have had more true worship in -his heart than any other member of the congregation, but he dropped just -a little out of form, and he quickly became a ridiculous nuisance. The -truth is, if you did but know it, that some of your clumsy efforts to -keep step with so-called fashionable people make you far more ridiculous -than those of us who fall out of step. Nature never intended your big -feet for dancing, but, because others dance, you must try it.</p> - -<p>Your reformer broods over his mission until it becomes a part of his -life, a habit which he cannot break. He reaches a position where he -cannot compromise, sidestep or wait patiently. He goes ahead and never -waits for “interludes,” which most of us must put in between efforts at -“reform.” The rest of the world cannot follow him. He becomes a “crank,” -a “nut,” or an “old stick,” because he cannot stop with the crowd and -play with the theory of reform, but must push on with all his soul. -It seems to us who look out upon the aimless procession moving before -us that an average man feels that he cannot “succeed” unless he stops -at command and plays the petty games of society; he has sold himself -into the slavery of habit and fashion, though he knows how poor and -trivial they may be. This is bad enough, but it is worse to see scores - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 27]</span> - -of people fastening the handcuffs on their children. Now and then the -organist has visions which show her what to do, and she swings the -great congregation to the deaf man’s lead. Unhappily there are few such -organists.</p> - -<p>It is strange, indeed, when you come to consider it, that two worlds, -separated only by sound, lie side by side and yet so far apart. You -cannot understand our life, and perhaps at times you shudder at the -thought of how narrow our lives have been made. We who have known sound -and lost it have learned to find substitutes, and we often wonder that -you narrow your own lives by making such trivial and ignoble use of -sound as we see you doing. Fate has narrowed our lives, and we have been -forced to broaden them by seeking the larger thoughts. You, it often -seems to us, straiten your own lives by dwelling with the smaller things -of existence.</p> - -<p>The deaf have one advantage at least. They have explored the pleasant -roads and the dark alleys of both worlds. If they are of true heart, -in doing so they have gained at least a glimpse of that other dim, -mysterious country which lies hidden beyond us all. To the blind, the -deaf, or to those who carry bravely the cross of some deep trouble, -there will surely come vision and promise which never appear to those -who are denied the privilege of passing through life under the shadow of -a great affliction. But these visions do not come to those who pass on - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 28]</span> - -with downcast eyes, permitting their affliction to bear them down. They -are reserved for those who defy fate and march through the dark places -with smiling faces and uplifted eyes.</p> - -<p>Someone has said that the deaf man is half dead, because he is unable to -separate in his life the living memory or sound from the deadness of the -silence.</p> - -<p>“I must walk softly all my days in the bitterness of my soul.”</p> - -<p>That was the old prophet’s dismal view of life, and how often have I -heard hopeless sufferers, half insane with the jangle of head noises, -quote that passage.</p> - -<p>“Cut out the bitterness, and I’ll walk softly with you,” was the comment -of one brave soul who would not subscribe to the whole doctrine. I -have had two deaf men quote that and tell me that their condition -reminded them of what they had read of prison life in the Russian mines. -Formerly, in some of these mines, men were chained together at their -work below ground. Sometimes, when one member of the hideous partnership -died, the survivor did not have his chains removed for days! One of my -friends told me that he felt as though his life was passed dragging -about wherever he went the dead body of sound, and what it had meant -to his former life. Unless he could keep his mind fully occupied there -would rise up before him the dim picture of the prisoner dragging his -dead partner through the horrors of their underground prison. The other - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 29]</span> - -man who made the comparison had a happier view of life. He told me -that he had read all he could find on the subject, and that when these -men were released from their hateful prison and brought up into the -sunlight, they seemed to know much about the great mystery into which we -all must enter. So he felt that he was not carrying the dead around with -him, but rather the living, for the spirit of the old life, the best of -it in memory and inspiration, remained with him. So we deaf are like you -of the sound-world in that some of us sink under our afflictions, while -to others of us they are stepping-stones.</p> - -<p>I have come to think that of all the human faculties, sound is the most -closely associated with life. The blind man may say that light means -more than sound; I do not know how the question can be fairly argued, -but I think in most cases deafness removes us further from the real joy -of living. You will notice that the blind are usually more cheerful -than the deaf. But at any rate, all the seriously afflicted have lost -something of life and are not on terms of full equality with those who -are normal. Their compensations must come largely from another world.</p> - -<p>Most people pass through life associating only with the living, and -thus give but little thought to any world beside their own. The great -majority of the people to whom I have talked about the other life are - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 30]</span> - -Christians, more or less interested in church or charitable work, yet -they have no conception of what lies beyond. Many of them dimly imagine -a dark valley or a black hole in the wall through which they will grope -their way, hopeful that at some corner they may come upon the light. The -law of compensation must give those of us who have lost an essential -of human life a greater insight into that other shadowy existence. For -us who have entered the silence there must somewhere be substitutes -for music and for the charm of the human voice. Most of the deaf who -formerly heard carry with them memories of music or kindly words, -legacies from the world of sound. These are treasured in the brain, and -as the years go by they become more and more ideal. Just as the chemist -may by continued analysis find new treasures in substances which others -have discarded, the man whose ears are sealed may find new beauties in -an old song, or in some word lightly spoken, which you in your wild riot -of sound have never discovered. And perhaps out of this long-continued -analysis there may come fragments of a new language, a vision which -may give one a closer view or a keener knowledge of worlds beyond. Who -knows? Again, one may not only add the beauty of brightness to the past, -but one may, if he will, summon the very imps of darkness out of the -shadows for their hateful work of destroying faith and hope in the human -heart. The Kingdom of Heaven or the prison of hell will be built as one - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 31]</span> - -may decide—and his tool is the brain.</p> - -<p class="center">“<i>For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he!</i>”</p> - -<p>It is my conviction that this proverb was written by a deaf man, who had -thoroughly explored the world of silence!</p> - -<p>While the inhabitants of every locality are usually anxious to increase -their population, I am very frank to say that some of the recruits -wished upon us are not a full credit to our community. The world in -which we must live is naturally gloomy, where canned sunshine must be -used about as canned fruit is carried into the northern snows. It is -no help to have our ranks filled with discontented, unhappy beings -who spend the years which might be made the best of their lives in -bemoaning their fate and reminding the rest of us of our affliction. -What we are trying to do is to forget it as far as we can. The deaf -man does not want the world’s pity. That is the most distasteful thing -you can hand him, even though it be wrapped in gold. For the expressed -pity of our friends only leads to self-pity, and that, sooner or later, -will pit the face of the soul like a case of moral smallpox. The most -depressing thing I have to encounter is the well-meant pity of friends -and acquaintances. I know from their faces that they are shuddering at -the thought of my affliction, and I see them discussing it, as they -look at me! Why can they not stop cultivating my trouble? All we ask - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 32]</span> - -is a fair chance to make a self-respecting living and to be treated as -human beings. This compassion makes me feel that I am being analyzed and -separated like an anatomical specimen; there will come to me out of the -distant past of sound the bitter words of a great actor, who said as -Shylock:</p> - -<p>“I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, -dimensions, senses, affections, passions?”</p> - -<p>I was brought up among deaf people. They seemed rather amusing to me, -and I could not imagine any condition which could put me in their place. -I now see that I should have profited by a study of their life and -habits. I could have been better prepared to live the life of a prisoner -in the silent world. Would I have struggled for greater power and -wealth? No, for they are not, after all, greater essentials here than in -your world. Were I to go over the road again, I should fill my mind and -soul with music, and should strive with every possible sacrifice to fill -out my life with enduring friendships, the kind that come with youth. -It seems to be practically impossible for the deaf man to gain that -friendship which is stronger than any other human tie. My aurist once -told me that at least sixty per cent of the people we meet in everyday -life have lost part of their hearing. They cannot be called deaf, but -the hearing is imperfect and deafness is progressive. Many of you who - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 33]</span> - -read this may be slowly traveling toward our world, without really -knowing it. There are in the country today about sixty thousand deaf -and dumb persons. If we include these, my estimate is that there are at -least half a million persons who have little or no hearing, while over -one million are obliged to use some kind of a device for the ears. So we -may safely claim that our world is likely to become more thickly settled -in the future, and we may well prepare to number the streets and put up -signboards.</p> - -<p>And I will admit another reason for telling you about this quiet -country. It concerns our own people, for whom I speak. I would gladly -do what I can to make life easier for the deaf. Their lot is usually -made harder through the failure of others to understand the affliction, -and to realize what it means to live in the silence. In my own case -I can make no complaint. I am confident that society has treated me -better than I deserve, given me more than I have returned. I have been -blessed with family and friends who have made my affliction far easier -than it might have been. I realize that it is not easy for the ordinary -person to be patient and fair with the deaf. We may so easily become -nuisances. I presume that there is no harder test of a woman’s character -and ability than for her to serve as the wife of a deaf man, to endure -his moods and oddities and suspicions with gentleness and patience and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 34]</span> - -loving help. A woman may well hesitate to enter such a life unless the -man is of very superior character.</p> - -<p>Now and then I meet deaf people who complain bitterly at the treatment -which society metes out to them. In most cases I think they are wrong, -for we must all admit squarely the foundation fact of our affliction, -which is that we may very easily become a trouble and a nuisance -socially. We represent perhaps two per cent of the nation’s population, -and we can hardly expect the other ninety-eight per cent always to -understand us. I have had people move away from me as though they -expected me to bite them. Some sensitive souls might feel that they -were thus associated with mad dogs, but it is better to see the humor -of it. For my part, I have come to realize that I am barred from terms -of social equality with those who live in the kingdom of sound. I have -come to be prepared for a certain amount of impatience and annoyance. I -am often myself impatient with those dull souls who depend so entirely -upon their ears that they have failed to cultivate the instinct or the -intuition which enables us to grasp a situation at a glance. But I do -ask for our people a fair hearing, if I may put it that way. While we -are deprived of many of your opportunities and possibilities, we think -we have developed something which you lack, perhaps unconsciously. We - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 35]</span> - -can turn our experience over to you if you will be patient.</p> - -<p>Do not fear that I shall corner you to make you listen to a tale of woe. -The truth is that I often feel, in all sincerity, exceedingly sorry for -you poor unfortunates who must listen to all the small talk and the -skim-milk of conversation.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“I saw a smith stand with his hammer—thus,</div> - <div class="verse">The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,</div> - <div class="verse">With open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>It is so long since I have been able to chatter and play with words that -I forget what people talk about. Some of them at least seem to have -talked their tongues loose from their brains. I often ask intelligent -people after this chatter what it was all about, and whether their -brains were really working as they babbled on. Not one in ten can give -any good reason for the conversation or remember twenty words of it. -Do you wonder that we of the silence, seeing this waste of words, pick -up our strong and enduring book and wander away with the great undying -characters of history, rather thankful that we are not as other men, -condemned to waste good time on such trivial exercise of ears and -tongues?</p> - -<p>That is the way we like to think about it, but there is a worm in this -philosophy after all. I have reasoned things out in this way fifty - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 36]</span> - -times; the logic seems perfect, and yet my mind works back from my book -to the story of John Armstrong and his New England farm.</p> - -<p>John was a seedling, rooted in one of those Vermont hill farms. The -Psalmist tells of a man who is like “a tree planted by the rivers of -water”; such a tree puts its roots down until it becomes well-nigh -impossible to pull them out of the earth. There had been a mortgage -howling at the Armstrong door for generations. Not much beside family -pride can be grown on these hillsides, and John would have spent his -life cultivating it to the end, if his lungs hadn’t given out. The -country doctor put it to him straight; it was stay on the hills and -die, or go to the Western desert and probably live. In some way the -love of life proved strongest. John bequeathed his share of the family -pride to brother Henry and went to Arizona. There he lost the use of one -lung, but filled his pockets with money. He secured a great tract of -desert land, and one day the engineers turned the course of a mountain -stream and spread it over John’s land. At home in Vermont the little -streams tumbled down hill, played with a few mill wheels, gave drink to -a few cows and sheep, and played on until they reached the river, to be -finally lost in the ocean. In Arizona the river caused the desert to -bloom with Alfalfa, and wheat, and orchards, thus turning the sand to -gold.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 37]</span></p> - -<p>And one day John stood on the mountain with his friends and looked over -the glowing country, all his—wealth uncounted. All his! Worth an entire -county of Vermont, so his friends told him.</p> - -<p>“You should be a happy man,” they said, “with all that wealth and power -taken from the sand. A happy man—what more can you ask?”</p> - -<p>“I know it,” said John. “I know it—and yet, in spite of it all, right -face to face with all this wealth, I’d give the whole darned country for -just one week in that Vermont pasture in June!”</p> - -<p>And so, unmolested in my world of silence, free from chatter and small -talk, able to concentrate my mind on strong books, I look across to the -idle gossipers and know just how John Armstrong felt. I would give up -all this restful calm if I could only hear my boy play his violin, if I -could only hear little Rose when she comes to say good-night, if I could -only hear that bird which they say is singing to her young in yonder -tree.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">Head Noises and Subjective Audition.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Head Noises—The Quality Probably Depends on the Memory -of Sounds Heard in Youth—The Sea and the Church -Bells—“Voices” and Subjective Audition—Insanity and the -Unseen—The Rich Dream-Life of the Deaf.</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Deafness is not even complete silence, for we must frequently listen -to head noises, which vary from gentle whispering to wild roars or -hideous bellowing. There is little other physical discomfort usually, -though some exceptional cases are associated with headache or neuralgia. -There is, however, an annoying pressure upon the ears, which is greatly -increased by excitement, depression or extreme fatigue. Unseen hands -appear to be pressing in at either side of the head. The actual noises -are peculiar to the individual in both quantity and quality; there are -cases of the “boiler-maker’s disease,” where the head is filled with a -hammering which keeps time with the pulse. I have known people to be -amazed at the “uncontrolled fury” of the deaf when their anger is fully -aroused—perhaps by something which seems trivial enough. They do not -realize how a sudden quickening of the heart action may start a great - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 39]</span> - -army of furies to shouting and smashing in the deaf man’s brain!</p> - -<p>Again, the roaring and the pounding will start without warning, and -then as suddenly fade to a dim murmur. It appears to diminish when the -victim can concentrate his mind upon some cheerful subject, so I take it -to be more of a mental or nervous disorder—not essentially physical. -Many times I have observed that these noises become more violent and -malignant whenever the mind is led into melancholy channels. They appear -to be modified and softened in dreams, so I am thankful that I have been -able to train myself into the ability to lie down and sleep when the -clamor becomes unendurable. I meet people who pride themselves on their -ability to go without sleep, and I shudder to think of their fate should -they ever be marooned in the silence, since they appear to regard extra -hours of sleep as a form of gross negligence at least! These night-owls -tell me that they are the “pep” of society—its greatest need. I am not -so sure of their mission. As I see it, the world has already too much -“pep” for its own good. We need more “salt.”</p> - -<p>You have doubtless noticed deaf people who go about with a weary, -half-frightened expression, and have wondered why they have failed to -“brace up” and accept their lot with philosophy. You do not realize how -these discordant sounds and malignant voices are driving these deaf -people through life as a haunted man is lashed along the avenues of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 40]</span> - -eternal doom. Of course his will frequently becomes broken down, and his -capacity for consistent and continuous labor is practically destroyed. -Do you know that if you were forced to remain for several hours in a -roaring factory you would come back to your friends showing the same -symptoms of voice and manner which you notice in the deaf?</p> - -<p>In my own case these noises have not been greatly troublesome, since I -have persistently refused to listen to them. It is not unlikely that -they are largely imaginary—although you are free to experiment by -taking a double dose of quinine, which should give you a fair imitation -of what many deaf people live with. The chief noise trouble that I -have had is a sort of low roaring or murmuring, at times rising to an -angry bellow, and then again dying to a low muttering. The deaf usually -remember common noises heard in their youth, although I fancy that -as the years go on our memory of sound changes with them. My private -demonstration reminds me of the old sound of the ocean, pounding on the -shores of the seaport town in New England where I was born. It seems to -me now that the ocean was never quiet, except at low tide, and even then -there came a low growl from the bar far out at the harbor entrance. I -can remember lying awake at night as a child, listening to the pounding -of the surf or the lap of the waves against the wharf. With a gentle - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 41]</span> - -east wind there was a low, musical murmur, but when the wind rose and -worked to the north it seemed to me like a giant smashing at the beach, -or like a magnified version of the Autumn flails pounding on barn -floors far back among the hills. It seems to me now that I can hear -and distinguish all those variations of sound in the noises within my -head; I have often wondered if such memories ever come to those who have -perfect hearing.</p> - -<p>Poets and dreamers have enlarged upon the romantic quality of “the sad -sea waves.” I once knew a woman who wrote very successful songs about -the “shining sea,” though she never saw the ocean in her life. Those -who live in the interior, far from the ocean, with never a view of any -large body of water, are easily led to believe that the sounds of the -sea are delightful companions. I often wish I could share my part of -the performance with them! I would gladly exchange my constant sound -companion for ten minutes of wind among the trees. Bryant says:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“There is society, where none intrude,</div> - <div class="verse">By the deep sea, and music in its roar.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>True; but Bryant was not deaf. No doubt as a child he held a sea shell -to his ear and listened to its murmuring with delight. <em>But he could lay -it aside when it became tiresome!</em> One speaks from quite another point - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span> - -of view when incased for life within the shell. I think I know just how -the Apostle John felt when, looking out from every direction from his -weary island, he saw only the blue, rolling water. He wrote as part of -his conception of heaven:</p> - -<p class="center topspace1 bottomspace1">“There shall be no more sea!”</p> - -<p>I agree with him fully, and yet I know people whose conception of heaven -includes Byron’s apostrophe to the ocean. How can we all be satisfied?</p> - -<p>Other curious sounds come to us as we sit in the silence. Some are -interesting, a few are strange or delightful. I frequently seem to hear -church bells gently chiming, just as they did years ago when the sound -came over the hills of the little country town where I was a boy. The -sound now seems to start far away, dim in the distance; gradually it -comes nearer, until the tones seem to fall upon the ear with full power. -They are always musical, never discordant; they go as suddenly and as -unexpectedly as they come. And where do they come from? Can it be that -dormant brain cells suddenly arouse to life and unload their charge -of gentle memories? Or it may be—but you are not interested in what -the deaf man comes to think of strange messengers who enter the silent -world. You would not believe me were I to tell you all we think and - -<span class="pagenum">>[Pg 43]</span> - -feel about them.</p> - -<p>When I asked my aurist about this he wanted to know if any particular -incidents of my childhood were connected with the ringing of bells. I -could remember two. It was the custom, years ago, for the sexton of the -Unitarian Church to come and strike the bell when any member of the -community died. There was one stroke for each year of their age. That -was the method of carrying the news. The sexton did not pull the rope, -but climbed into the belfry and pulled the tongue of the bell with a -string. It was my duty to count the strokes, and thus convey the news -to my deaf aunt. In that community we knew each other so well that this -tolling the age gave us as much about it as one would now get over the -telephone. And then the bell on the Orthodox Church over in the next -valley! That always rang on Sunday, before our bell did, and I heard it -softly and musically as the sound floated over us. I had been taught to -believe that the Orthodox people had a very hard and cruel religion, -and I used to wonder how their bell could carry such soft music. When -I spoke of this the aurist smiled understandingly and said it fully -explained why these musical sounds now come back to my weary brain.</p> - -<p>Actual voices come to us at times. I have had words or sentences -shouted lustily in my ears. In several cases while sitting alone at - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span> - -night reading or writing this conversation of the unseen has seemed -so clear and natural that I have stopped and glanced about the room, -or even moved about the house, half expecting to find some visitor. -As a rule the sentences are incoherent, and are not closely connected -with everyday life; they sometimes refer to things which have preyed -upon my mind in previous days. Deaf friends have told me of direct and -important warnings and suggestions they have received in this way, but I -have known nothing of the sort. It does seem to me, however, that this -shouting and incoherent talking usually refers to matters which I have -deeply considered at times of depression, fatigue or strong excitement. -I consider that, as in the case of the bells, it may mean the sudden -stirring of brain cells which have stored up strongly expressed -thoughts, and are in some way able to give them audible rendition to the -deaf.</p> - -<p>My aurist offers an ingenious explanation. He says that I can hear my -own voice, and undoubtedly it is at some times clearer than at others. I -may unconsciously “think out loud”; that is, go through the interesting -performance of talking to myself without knowing that I am doing it. -Perhaps if he were deaf himself he would not be quite so sure of his -theory—nothing is so convincing as a fact. I remember that at one time -my dentist was trying to persuade me that I ought to have a plate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span></p> - -<p>“But that is merely your theory,” I said. “You tell me that you can make -a plate which will enable me to eat and talk in a natural manner. How do -I know? I think a dentist, to be entirely successful, should be able to -prove such statements from his own experience.”</p> - -<p>For answer he gravely took a good-sized plate out of his own mouth. -I had no idea that he had one! I have often wished that some of our -skilled aurists might graft their theory of head noises upon practical -experience.</p> - -<p>Scientists and psychologists refer to these noises as subjective -audition. I shall attempt no scientific discussion of the matter, as -this book is intended to be a record of personal or related experience. -All students of deafness seem to agree that we can hear sounds, definite -noises and even words that are purely subjective. Certainly in some -forms of insanity the victims hear voices commanding them to do this or -that. I have known several persons apparently sane in all other matters -who insist that unseen friends talk to them and give advice.</p> - -<p>Some years ago I was permitted to make a careful study of members of -a small religious community which was established near my farm. Its -members were ordinary country people, for the most part of rather -low mentality and narrow thought, yet with a curiously shrewd power -of intuition. They were fanatics, and among other practices or -“self-denials” they refused to eat anything which had to do with animal - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span> - -life. Thus they limited their diet to grain, vegetables and fruit. One -man, who called himself “John the Baptist,” found this restriction -a rigorous punishment, for he “liked to eat up hearty!” He wrestled -in spirit for weeks, and finally told me that he had received an -unanswerable argument straight from the Lord. In a moment of depression -he had heard a voice from Heaven saying very distinctly:</p> - -<p>“John, look at that big black horse!”</p> - -<p>“I can see him right now!”</p> - -<p>“Look at him! He is big and strong and can pull a plow all alone. Does -he eat meat? No, he lives on grain and hay—the grass of the field! Now -if that big horse can keep up his strength without meat, you can do the -same, John!”</p> - -<p>And John fully believed that he had held direct conversation with the -Lord. No man could shake his faith in that. Undoubtedly it was a case -of that subjective audition similar to what the deaf experience. John -<em>heard</em> the conversation, or at least imagined that the words were -spoken; they followed or grew out of his thought.</p> - -<p>I myself have had enough experience along this line to make me very -charitable with those who give accounts of this sort of thing. It is a -question, however, as to just how much of the unseen one can hear and -not be considered insane! While some of the deaf lack the imagination -to carry out this strange experience, others realize that the public - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span> - -draws no distinct boundary between “oddity” and insanity, and are wary -of repeating all the strange messages which come to them. I think it is -beyond question that primitive people, Indians, isolated mountaineers or -ignorant folk living in lonely places have this subjective side of their -hearing greatly developed. This I believe to be also true of educated -thinkers who are largely influenced by imagination. It seems perfectly -evident to me that some persons of peculiar psychic power may really -develop abilities unknown to those who possess the ordinary five senses. -As I have stated elsewhere in this book, I predict that the study of -this strange power is to develop during the next century, and that the -afflicted are to lead in its investigation.</p> - -<p>Speaking of head noises and imaginary voices, I have an idea that there -are deaf men who took these things too seriously and came to think -that such noises appear to all. This led to a condition which made it -something of a trial to live with them. They have been railroaded off to -some “sanitarium” or asylum, even though they may be entirely sane. I -have met deaf men who realize all this, and therefore, as they express -it, they “will not tell all they know.” I am convinced that for this -reason much that might be valuable to the psychologist is lost to the -world.</p> - -<p>Another strangely interesting point in this connection is that the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span> - -deaf hear perfectly in dreams. Even considering dream psychology, -this is to me the most curious phenomenon of the condition. In dreams -I seem to meet my friends just as in waking hours, and I hear their -conversation, even to a whisper. I also hear music, but it is entirely -of the old style which I heard as a young man, before my hearing failed. -Unfortunately (or otherwise) the modern “jazz” and rag-time tunes mean -nothing to me; I have never heard a note of them. In dreams I hear grand -operas and songs of the Civil War and the following decade; these last -are plaintive melodies for the most part, for New England, when I was a -young man, was full of “war orphans,” who largely dictated the music of -the period. But even in sleep, listening as easily as anyone to this old -music or to the voices of friends, the thought comes to me constantly -that I am really deaf, and that all this riot of music and conversation -is abnormal. The psychological explanation that here is a dream struggle -between a great desire and the fact which thwarts it in real life sounds -plausible enough, but the deaf man still must ponder on the profound -mystery of his dream-life. I do not know just how common this dream -music or sleep conversation may be among the deaf. I am told that some -deaf people rarely, if ever, have this experience, while others tell -very remarkable stories of what comes to them in sleep. It must be -understood that I am merely giving my own personal experience, without - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span> - -trying to record the general habit of the deaf.</p> - -<p>Physicians relate some curious experiences in this line. In one case a -deaf and dumb man, utterly incapable of hearing when awake, was made to -hear music and conversation when asleep. On the other hand, a deaf man -who could hear music and conversation in dreams could not be awakened -even by loud noises close to his ear. He showed a mechanical response -to the vibration by a slight flicker of the eyelids, but protested that -he <em>heard</em> nothing of the racket. In most cases of hysterical deafness -arising from nervous trouble or shell shock during the war the patient -seemed to have <em>forgotten how to listen</em>. If he could be made to listen -intently he usually made some gain in hearing. Mind control or the use -of some hypnotic influence is actually helpful in many cases.</p> - -<p>I feel confident that this subjective hearing and these strange voices -are responsible for the reverence or fear with which the Indians and -other ignorant people usually regard the deaf. It is not unlikely that -the famous “voices” which inspired Joan of Arc resulted from a form -of subjective audition. Seers or “mediums” probably have developed -this quality until it gains for them the respect and awe of their -constituents; this would account for their great influence with -primitive peoples. I have even had evidence of a remarkable attitude of -wonderment toward myself on the part of strange people among whom I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span> - -have traveled.</p> - -<p>I take it that all this subjective audition arises from thoughts and -emotions filed away by memory somewhere in the mind. Business men run -through their dusty files and find letters or documents that were -put there years ago and forgotten. Here at last they are brought to -recollection, and the memories associated with them start a train of -ideas which may affect the mind like a joyous parade or a funeral -procession. The deaf, lacking the healing or diverting influence of -sound, live nearer to this subconscious stratum of memories and can -more easily call them up; in time of worry or great fatigue they can -more easily come to us. Much of the curious foolishness of intoxicated -persons results from this rising of the subconscious.</p> - -<p>I have no doubt that the original deaf man, far back in history, when -men lived in caves without light or fire, was considered a gifted and -highly favored individual. I think it likely that the voices and strange -noises which come to us through subjective audition were considered by -these primitive people as communications from the strange, mysterious -powers which changed light into darkness, and brought cold, hunger and -storm. Probably the original deaf man was given the warmest corner in -the cave and the first choice of food, in order to propitiate the spirit -which communicated with him. The modern deaf man, however, can take - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span> - -little pride in the good fortunes of his original representative, for -he is made aware every day that his fellows no longer class him as a -necessity in the world’s economy, unless perchance he is able to lend -them money or cater to their necessities.</p> - -<p>It has been clearly shown that the play of our emotions has a physical -influence on the body. The working of such emotions as fear, anger or -worry is destructive; joy or quiet pleasure helps to build up rather -than to break down. The happier emotions are nearly always influenced or -guided by sound—music, or gentle tones of the voice. Thus we may see -how the deaf, deprived of this healing or harmonizing influence, except -in dreams, may easily become fearsome and morbid. Once a woman loathed -dishwashing with a hatred too bitter for this world. She was obliged to -do it, and she was able to largely overcome her emotion of disgust by -playing selections from the operas on the victrola while at her work. -That music influenced the counter emotions of joy and beauty until they -overcame the loathing. Her hands were in the dishwater, but her mind -was in glory—and then what did her hands matter? We can all remember -similar cases where music has filled the soul with a great joy and has -lifted the body out of menial tasks or humiliation. But music is not for -the deaf; we are shut away from it, and can find no substitute. We must -work out our mental troubles as best we can.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">Facing the Hard Situation</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35"> -The Beginnings of Deafness—The Cows in the -Corn—Re-adjustments—The “House of the Deaf”—Spirits -of the Past on Our Side—The Course in Philosophy—The -Reverence of the Ignorant Herder—The Slave and the King. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Every deaf man will tell you that for months or years he was able to -convince himself that there was no real danger of losing his hearing. -Then, suddenly made evident by some small happening, Fate stood solidly -in the road pointing a stern finger—and there was no denying the -verdict: “<em>You are on the road to silence!</em>” How foolish and dangerous -to fight off the disagreeable thought when most cases of deafness could -be cured or greatly helped if taken in time! It is safe to say that -if the first symptoms of defective hearing were as uncomfortable as a -cinder in the eye, or as painful as an ordinary stomach-ache, the great -majority of cases would be remedied before the affliction could lead its -victims into the silent world. But deafness usually creeps in without -pain or special warning; if it is caused by a disease of the inner ear -there are probably few outward symptoms, and it will not be considered -serious. Then suddenly it will demonstrate its strangle-hold upon life, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span> - -and cannot be shaken off; it is like a tiger creeping stealthily through -grass and brush for a spring upon the careless watcher by the campfire.</p> - -<p>I first looked into the dim shadows of the silent country one night in -Colorado. Our people had broken up a piece of raw prairie land, ditched -water to it and planted corn. It was a new crop for the locality, but we -succeeded in getting a good growth for cattle feed. In those days there -were few fences, except the horizon and the sky, and cattle wandered -everywhere, so as the corn developed we took turns guarding it. One -night a small bunch of fat cattle on their way to market was herded -about a mile from our cornfield. Feed was scarce on the range, and these -steers were hungry. We could see them raise their heads and smell the -corn. We knew they would stampede if they could break away. I was on -guard; my duty was to ride my pony up and down on the side of the field -nearest the herd.</p> - -<p>Those who know the plains which roll away from the foothills of Northern -Colorado will remember the brilliant starlit nights. The dry plains -stretch away in rolling waves of brown to the east, while to the west -the mountains lift their snow-caps far up into the sparkle of the -starlight. It is a land of mystery. Any man who has ever lived there has -felt at times that he would give all he possessed to be back there with -the shapes that live in the starlight. Great dark shadows slip over - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span> - -the plains. You see them slowly moving and you wonder at them. How can -they shift as they do when there are no clouds? That night, far over the -prairie, I could see the fires which the herders had built; two or three -horsemen were slowly circling about the bunched cattle.</p> - -<p>It seemed entirely safe, and at one corner of the field I got off the -pony and let him feed as I walked along the corn. The night was still, -and I could hear nothing, but suddenly my little horse threw up his -head, snorted and pulled at his picket pin. I fancied he sensed some -sneaking coyote, until out of a shadow near the field I saw half a dozen -black forms with white gleaming horns, running for the corn. Part of the -herd had broken away, and as I mounted the snorting pony the sickening -thought flashed in upon me that I could no longer hear them. Before we -could turn back the herd forty or fifty steers had entered the corn. -They went aimlessly, smashing and crashing their way through the stalks, -and with the other riders I went in after them, but I could hardly hear -them. I remember that in order to make sure I held my fingers to my -right ear to shut out sound. In the shadow of the corn I ran directly -into a steer! He was tearing his way along, but I did not know he was -there until my hands touched him. Then for the first time I knew whither -I was bound. Probably there is nothing quite so chilling to the heart, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span> - -unless it be the sudden knowledge that some dear friend must soon walk -down the road with death.</p> - -<p>Deaf people who read this will recall incidents connected with the first -real discovery of their affliction; up to that time they have been -able to throw the trouble out of mind with more or less confidence. -They could argue that it was due to a cold, or to some little trouble -that would soon adjust itself; they were slightly annoyed, but soon -forgot it. Then—perhaps they cannot keep up with the conversation; -they seem suddenly to lose the noises which are a part of daily normal -life. Neither their work nor their play can go on without a complete -readjustment of their methods of communicating with others. Suppose -society refuses to do more for them than they have ever done for the -afflicted? Many a man has been made to realize how small a moral balance -he has to draw upon when at last he knows that for the rest of his life -he must depend largely upon the charity or indulgence of those with whom -he associates. For this is really our condition in the silent world. -A person of dominating power may push through life thinking himself a -master, but we must live with the humiliation of realizing that our -friends cannot regard us as normal. It is a staggering blow to the man -or woman of fixed ambition, or of that warm personality which demands - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span> - -human sympathy and kindly companionship. The old life must be broken up.</p> - -<p>My first thought was to seek “medical advice.” That is what we are -always told to do. The air about the deaf man is usually vibrant with -advice, and frequently the less attention he pays to it the better off -he is. The local doctor in the nearest town was an expert with pills, -powders and blisters, but he went no farther. Like many country doctors -of that time, he was little more than an expert nurse, though if you -had told him this he could have shaken a diploma in your face. I went -to see him one evening after milking. He had a kerosene lamp with a -tin reflector with which he illumed my ears; his report was that the -trouble was caused by wax growing on the ear drum. If I would come in by -daylight he would scrape it off with a small knife. There was nothing to -be alarmed about; I would outgrow it. As a precaution he would advise -me to blister the ears—or that part of the skull immediately behind -them—and——</p> - -<p>“<em>My charge is two dollars!</em>”</p> - -<p>Since then several famous aurists have peered into my nose and ears; -they told me the truth, and charged more than this doctor did for his -wild guess.</p> - -<p>Later I shall describe some of the local treatments to which my poor -ears have been subjected. It would make a volume in itself were I to -tell all, and it would record the experience of most country people - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span> - -who go down the silent road. Frequently the city man may obtain expert -advice from aurists who fully understand that they are dealing with an -interior nerve or brain disease. Most of us who were “brought up” in -the country fell into the hands of physicians who appeared to think -deafness is what they call a “mechanical disease,” much like the sprain -of the knee or wrist. That country doctor saw only the wax on the ear -drum, when the real trouble was far inside. So we are blistered and -oiled and irrigated—and the real seat of the trouble is not reached. Of -course I should have found some one competent to treat my case. That is -easily said, but the great majority of young men in my day were without -capital, quite incapable of taking advice, and they labored under -the conviction that any public admission of serious disease would be -considered a weakness that was like a stigma.</p> - -<p>I have been singularly unsuccessful in obtaining original impressions -from deaf people in trying to learn from them just what were their -sensations when it became evident, past all argument, that they were -to walk softly through ever-increasing silence. It would seem that -they rarely have great imagination; perhaps silence, and a lack of the -stimulant of sound, destroys that faculty. Psychology estimates that of -all the senses hearing has the greatest influence over the emotions and -the morals. I fancy that the violent effort to readjust life habits to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span> - -a new existence bewilders most of us, so that the mind is incapable of -working in exactly the old way. Apparently many of the deaf fall into -a morbid, hopelessly despondent frame of mind, which does not permit -any reasonable and useful research into the habits and landmarks which -characterize a strange country. I know how useless it is to tell the -ordinary deaf man that it is a rare privilege to know and to study the -ideas which special messengers bring to us in the silent world. I know -that what I tell him is true, yet I am forced to agree with him when he -says that he would give it all for the privilege of hearing a hand-organ -playing on a street corner. Still, it is a part of the game for us to -believe that in many ways the deaf are the favored of the Lord.</p> - -<p>As far as my own experience goes, I know that I went about for some time -in a daze. In spite of the verdict of the country doctor I realized -that my hearing was surely failing, and I remember that I began to take -stock of my mental and physical assets for the great game of life that -was opening up before me. When a man does that fairly he will realize -how industry and skill are changing all lines of life. When I was a boy -playing ball we always put the poorest, most awkward player in right -field. That was the jumping-off place in baseball. As the game is now -played right field offers opportunity for the best player of the nine. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span> - -After standing off and looking at myself fairly I was forced to conclude -that I was not fitted to enter the silent world with any great hope of -making more than the most ordinary living there. Try it yourself. Cast -up your personal account, giving a fair valuation to the things you -can do really well, and then tell me what sort of a living you could -make for your family if tomorrow you found yourself totally blind or -totally deaf. Like many young men I had received no special training -for any life enterprise; I knew no trade and had no particular “knack” -at tools or machinery. I had attended a country school and one term of -high school, but had never been taught the true foundation principles -of any of my subjects. I had read many books without direction or good -judgment, with no definite end in view. The sum total of my life assets -seemed to be that I was an expert milker and could take care of cattle; -the most promising position for me that of a rather inferior hired -man. Thousands of men have gone through life with a poorer outfit, but -they have had, in addition, the boon of perfect hearing; how great an -advantage this is no one can know until he must face the world without -it.</p> - -<p>Every healthy young man looks forward to the time when he may build -four strong walls about his life. These walls are home, wife, a piece -of land and power. In the flush of youth we feel that if we build this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span> - -square and live inside we may laugh at adversity and say in our hearts, -“<em>The world is mine!</em>” But this becomes a troubled dream when one comes -to understand that he must crawl through life crippled—with one great -faculty on crutches.</p> - -<p>It is rather curious how at such a time the mind grasps at meanings -hardly considered before, and makes new and rapid applications from -things which formerly seemed of no consequence. I remember picking up -at this time a school reader which one of the children was studying. -My eye fell on the old familiar poem—how many of us have performed a -parrot-like recitation of it in the little old schoolhouse!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Oh, solitude! where are the charms</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Which sages have seen in thy face?</div> - <div class="verse">Better dwell in the midst of alarms</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Than reign in this horrible place.</div> - </div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I am out of humanity’s reach,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I must finish my journey alone;</div> - <div class="verse"><i>Never hear the sweet music of speech,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>I start at the sound of my own!</i>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>I had read this many times before without getting its full power. Now I -saw that I was drifting with other deaf men out of reach of the “soft -music of speech.” Suppose that I were to end my days on a desert island - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span> - -of complete silence! The idea haunted me for days, and I thought it out -to the end. At last it came to me that Robinson Crusoe and Alexander -Selkirk were but examples of brave spirits who could not be conquered by -ordinary conditions. Other men have been marooned or swept ashore upon -deserted or unknown islands—men of feeble will, without stern personal -power. They made a struggle to hold on to civilization, but finally -gave up, surrendered to natural forces, and either perished or reverted -to barbarism. They, “heirs of all the ages,” renounced the progress of -their race and went back nearer to the brute. Crusoe and Selkirk were -made of sterner stuff. They were not to be beaten; out of the crudest -materials they made home and companions and retained self-respect and -much of the sweetness of life. Each made his own house in a new world, -fashioned it by sheer force of will and faith. I made up my mind that I -would do likewise. I would build my own house in the silent world and -would make it a house of cheer.</p> - -<p>But who will help the deaf man to build his house? Where can he find the -material? I meet deaf people who complain bitterly because the people -with whom they work and live do not treat them with full understanding -and consideration. Let us be honest, and remember how little <em>we</em> ever -went out of our way to stand by the deaf before our own affliction put -us out of the social game! No doubt we laughed with the others at - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span> - -the queer blunders of deaf people, or let them see our annoyance when -communication with them became a trouble. The chances are that we will -receive fairer treatment from our associates than we ourselves gave to -the afflicted in our best days. As for me, I vote the world a kindly -place; people treat me reasonably. They are not cruel, but many of them -are busy or selfish, and I fully realize that it is no pleasure for the -average man or woman to attempt communication with the deaf. I do not -blame them for avoiding it. And even when they use us well, from the -very nature of the situation which separates us they can help but little -in the building of these isolated houses of the silent world.</p> - -<p>But I have lived to learn a strange thing. The silent world is peopled -with the ghosts and shadows of men and women who have lived in other -ages. Somehow they seem to feel that they would like to relive their -lives, and repeat their message to humanity; but only the blind, the -deaf and those otherwise afflicted seem to be able to meet them fully. -The great undying souls who have made or modified history and human -thought live in books, pictures and memories, but only in the world of -silence can they give full comfort and power. For we come to know them -so intimately that we learn how each one of them went about his great -work carrying a cross of some kind—and the bond of sympathy to the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 63]</span> - -afflicted grows stronger. You with light physical crosses perhaps think -that you take full inspiration from Milton. Have you ever thought how -much clearer his message can be to the blind or the deaf? Here, then, is -our help and our hope. Our ears are not dull to the reverberating echoes -of the past, and we can reach back for the best worldly solace—the -experience and advice of those who have fought the good fight, and won.</p> - -<p>It would be nonsense for anyone to claim that he goes through this -preparatory course in philosophy with patience or good temper. He misses -too much. The future is too uncertain. The dread of losing the rest of -his hearing and the thought of the blight which this would mean to his -future will at times drive the deaf man to desperation. At times he is -almost willing to take the advice of Job’s wife—</p> - -<p>“<i>Dost thou still retain thine integrity? Curse God and die!</i>”</p> - -<p>And some of us never gain the faith and philosophy which make life in -the silence endurable. Others acquire them slowly by a burning process -which scars, but in the end gives them new strength. I remember two -incidents which influenced me during the first days of my realization of -what was ahead. They are of distinctly opposite character.</p> - -<p>One day the regular herder was sick and I took his place. He was a -“lunger,” a victim of tuberculosis, who had waited too long before - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 64]</span> - -coming to Colorado. At one time I worked with three of these men, and -I came to know how their disease could send them to the top round -of ecstasy and to the lowest level of depression in a single day. I -have seen them get up in the morning dancing at the very joy of life, -planning their “going home” to surprise the old folks with their cure. -Yet by night perhaps they put a handkerchief to the mouth and took it -away stained with blood—and their spirits would fall to earth abruptly. -They are even more distressing companions than inhabitants of the -silence who feel that they have lost life, fortune and future with the -closing of their ears.</p> - -<p>This herder had built up trouble for me without telling me about it. -The deaf man usually runs blindly into that form of trouble every week -of his life; it is a sort of legacy which others leave at his door. -Down the river some two miles lived a ranchman who had seeded wheat and -made a garden on a low flat where the river curved past a bluff. The -herder had carelessly let the cattle get away from him the previous day, -and before he could stop them several cows had trampled through this -garden with all the exasperating nonchalance that a fat and stupid cow -is capable of showing. When a man has lived for a year or so on “sow -belly,” pancakes and potatoes, and when he is naturally inclined to a -profane disposition of language, he knows precisely what to do to the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 65]</span> - -responsible party. As I came along the river behind the herd, I saw -this ranchman and his wife advancing to meet me. He opened up at long -range, but as I did not know what it was all about, and, moreover, could -not hear him, I kept on riding right up to meet him. My pony had once -belonged to a mule driver noted for his remarks to mules, and the little -horse actually seemed to recognize a master in this excited individual. -This man’s boy afterwards told me that as he advanced his father was -relating in a dozen ways in which he proposed to punish me. Shooting, -it appeared, was too easy. He would meet me man to man and roll me in -the cactus, etc., and worse! Unfortunately, I did not hear at all until -I got close to him, and then his breath had failed somewhat, so that he -was not doing himself full justice. So I rode right up to him and asked -him the most foolish of questions—so he must have thought:</p> - -<p>“<em>What can I do for you?</em>”</p> - -<p>He looked at me in amazement.</p> - -<p>“Are you deaf?”</p> - -<p>I told him that I could not hear well.</p> - -<p>“Ain’t you heard a word of what I’ve been handing you?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly a word!”</p> - -<p>“Well, by God, if that don’t beat all! I’ve wasted all them words on a -deaf man!”</p> - -<p>There was genuine sorrow in his voice as he spoke of the loss sustained - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 66]</span> - -by society through my failure to hear. All his anger was gone.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said. “Get off your horse. The woman’s got dinner ready. Come -in and eat.”</p> - -<p>“But suppose the cows get on your wheat?”</p> - -<p>“Darn the wheat. I don’t make a new friend like you every day. Anyway, -the boy can herd ’em.”</p> - -<p>He put his boy on my pony and we went into the house, where over -coffee, fried pork, riz biscuits and rhubarb sauce we pledged eternal -friendship. His wife was a very happy woman as she explained matters to -me.</p> - -<p>“My man is terrible profane at times. Some men go and get drunk now -and again to relieve their feelings, but my man don’t do that. He just -swears something awful, and when it’s all over he’s all right again. -He was awful to you, but when he found out you didn’t hear him, he -was terrible shocked, and came out of his mad like the man in the -Scriptures. He met his match at last, and I do hope he’ll quit.”</p> - -<p>I have heard that the Indians never torture or mutilate a deaf man. -They seem to think that he is specially protected by the Great Spirit. -Here was a white man with much the same feeling, and I have seen a -like forbearance in other cases. I think the great majority of human -beings seldom or never take deliberate advantage of the hard of hearing; -they may be amused at our blunders or annoyed by our mistakes, but - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 67]</span> - -they hesitate to treat us with the severity they could justly accord -one in full possession of his faculties. Some deaf man could probably -point to bitter personal experiences, but this is my own feeling. The -above encounter also helps to prove what I feel to be a psychological -truth—that most of our fear comes as a result of sounds registered by -the brain. I frankly confess that if I could have heard this big man I -should not have gone within a hundred and fifty feet of him. I shall -discuss this phase of fear later; but I learned early in my affliction -that:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Cowards die many times before their deaths;</div> - <div class="verse">The valiant never taste of death but once.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>One January night I was caught out in a Colorado blizzard. Only those -who have felt and seen the icy blasts pour down out of the mountain -canyons and roar over the plains, driving the hard flakes like the -volley from a thousand machine guns, can realize what it means to face -such a blast. The cattle turn from such a wind and drift before it, -half-frozen, heads lowered, moaning with pain. A herd of horses will -bunch together, heads at the center, ready to lash out at the wolves. I -was riding carelessly, rubbing my frosted ears, when the pony stepped -into a prairie-dog hole, fell and threw me into the snow. Then with a -snort, reins dragging, he started at a wild run directly into the storm. -I stood in the snow, in the midst of whirling blackness, with nothing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 68]</span> - -to guide me except the rapidly filling tracks of the deserting horse. -I knew he was headed for home, and I followed as best I could, feeling -for his tracks in the snow. After wading for a few rods, I saw far ahead -what seemed like a dim star, close to the earth. It grew brighter as I -approached, and sooner than I expected I stumbled upon a small group of -buildings and a sod corral—The star proved to be the light in the house -window. My horse stood with drooping head in front of the door.</p> - -<p>Then the door opened and revealed a sheep herder. He had on a fur coat -and bags were tied about his feet. Out he came with his lantern, and we -put the horse in a shed. The air was filled with a low and plaintive -crying from the sheep in the corral, bunched together where the snow was -drifting in over them. There was nothing we could do for them, so we -made our way to the house.</p> - -<p>It was a tiny one-room affair, built of sods piled up like bricks, -with a roof made of poles covered with sods and wild hay; it boasted -a wooden floor. There were a stove, a table, three chairs and a small -cot. In these days there would be a phonograph and a collection of the -latest music, but this herder’s only constant companions were a dog and -a canary bird. For fuel there was a small pile of cottonwood sticks, a -box of buffalo chips, and a barrel containing bunches of wild hay tied -into knots. Two other men were there, also driven in by the blizzard. I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 69]</span> - -shall always feel that the mental picture revealed to me by the contrast -between those two men in that lonely hut had the greatest deciding -influence in helping me to fit myself for the life of the silent world.</p> - -<p>They were both white-haired old men, though full of vigor. One I -recognized as the cattle king of Northern Colorado. His cattle were -everywhere; he owned half a town and an army ran at his beck and call, -yet he could barely write his own name. It was said he always signed -his checks “Z,” because he could not be sure of spelling “Zachariah” -properly. He had no poetry or imagination, except what he could drink -out of a jug. In the old days, when the plains were ruled by brute -force, this man was happy, for life becomes tolerable only as we can -equal our friends in manners and education. But how the plains had -changed! Schools, churches, music, culture, were working in with the -towns—the leaven which was to change the soggy biscuit of the old life -to the “riz bread” of the new. That strange, fateful, overmastering -thing we call education was separating the people of the new prairie -towns into classes more distinct than money and material power had -ever been able to create. This old man had railed and cursed at the -change, for a premonition of what was to come had entered his heart, and -something told him that his blunt philosophy of life was all wrong. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 70]</span> - -In this country a man may climb from poverty up to wealth, or he may -leave wealth to others, but it is not possible for him to climb in the -same way up into education, and he cannot leave these benefits to those -who follow him. The old man had begun to fear that he had climbed the -wrong ladder. There he sat, bitter and hateful, chained to prejudice, -the slave of ignorance. He had no companion to share his narrow prison -except his money—the most useless and irritating single companion that -any man can have for the harvest years.</p> - -<p>His companion was about the same age, an educated man, a “lunger,” -forced to spend the rest of his life in these dry plains. I had seen -him before at the county convention, where there had been talk of -nominating him for county clerk—a much-desired political job. He might -have been nominated but for his own actions. He stood straight up in the -convention and said:</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen, I refuse to let my name go before this convention. I have -been approached by certain people who would compromise my manhood, and -now I would not accept your nomination, even if you offered it.”</p> - -<p>“Made a fool of himself. Had a cinch and threw it away!”</p> - -<p>That was the way they talked in the street afterwards; but I remember - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 71]</span> - -going home that night with this thought dancing through my brain:</p> - -<p>“I wish <em>I</em> could get up and do such things.”</p> - -<p>He would have ranked as a poor man, or at best one of modest competence, -yet in his enforced exile from home and friends he was sustained and -comforted by a mighty host of men and women who came trooping out of -history at his call.</p> - -<p>There they sat in the dimly lighted room—the cattle king and the -scholar, a slave of disease. Their chosen companions were about them, -and these had turned the king into a slave, the slave into a monarch. -For one there were only the spirits of hopeless gloom, grinning, -snarling as though they knew that fate disdains money in exchange for -the things which alone can bring comfort and courage into the shadow -of years. For the other man the dim room was crowded with a goodly -company—the great spirits who live forever in song and story, who -gladly come back from the unknown country at the call of those who have -learned to know them.</p> - -<p>I saw all this, and then I seemed to see myself in the years that were -coming, in the shadow of the impending affliction, a resident of the -silent world. It was evidently to be a choice of masters. I remember -now as though it were yesterday how on that howling night in that dim -sod house I made a desperate vow that I would, if need be, go through -fire and acid before I would end my days or sit alone in the silence - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 72]</span> - -as mentally hopeless and impotent as that “cattle king.” And I had been -ready to say “me, too,” only a short time before to the cowboy who said:</p> - -<p>“If I could round up and brand the money old Zack can, I wouldn’t care -how little else I knew.”</p> - -<p>Take a man with dull hearing, little or no education, no surplus -capital—nothing except health and a dim idea that “education” will -prove the tool to crack the safe wherein is locked opportunity—and what -college will take and train him? I am sure that the colleges to which -my boys have gone would never have given me a chance. But one fine day -in September found me entering the gate of the Michigan Agricultural -College. I do not think I ever passed the examination—I think the -instructors felt somewhat as the Indians do about the deaf. At any rate, -I entered, not knowing what I wanted or what I was fitted for. It might -be interesting to see what sort of an education may be picked up in this -go-as-you-please manner, or what is required to fit a man for a happy -life in the silent world. However needful it may be for a deaf man to -acquire excellence in some definite work, it is most of all important -that he soak in all possible poetry, human sunshine and inspiration -against the time that he must enter prison.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“A Heart For Any Fate”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35"> -Early Adventures—From Boston to the West—The Milkman -and the Ear Trumpet—The “Milk Cure”—The Office of the -Apple—Cases of Mistaken Identity—The Prohibitionist and -the Missing Uncle George. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Until I went to Colorado as a young man to work on a dairy ranch, I did -not fully realize the possibilities of deafness. I made a long jump -to the Rocky Mountains. In those days it was something of a leap in -longitude, culture and occupation. I had been working in a publishing -house, and for several years part of my job had consisted in running -errands for a group of the most distinguished authors ever brought -together in America. Of course, no gentleman can be a hero to his valet, -but a great author can be more than a hero to his errand boy. I went out -once and bought a bag of peanuts for this merry group of serious-minded -men; I suppose I am the only living person who ever ate peanuts with -Longfellow, Lowell, Emerson, Holmes, Whittier and Aldrich. I saw Dr. -Oliver Wendell Holmes put a peanut shell on his thumb and shoot it -across the room at John G. Saxe, as a boy would shoot a marble. To me -the most impressive of all that group of supermen was John Greenleaf -Whittier. He was quite deaf, and the affliction troubled him greatly. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 74]</span> - -Some of the critics think that his inability to hear accurately accounts -for some of his slips of rhyme. To me the remarkable thing is that in -all Whittier’s writings I can find only one indirect reference to his -severe affliction. This is in the poem entitled “My Birthday”:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Better than self-indulgent years</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The outflung heart of youth,</div> - <div class="verse">Than pleasant songs in idle years</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The tumult of the truth.</div> - <div class="verse">* * -* * * -* *</div> - </div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">And if the eye must fail of light,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The ear forget to hear,</div> - <div class="verse">Make clearer still the Spirit’s sight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">More fine the inward ear!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>There could be no finer advice for the deaf. I think Whittier’s gentle -and placid philosophy (whose only sting was for slavery) was ripened and -mellowed by his narrow life, which was still more closely circumscribed -by the years of silence. But how strangely does compensation spring -from a bitter root, and how surely are its best fruits reserved for -“character”! Denied wide experience and education, deprived of one -important avenue of approach to humanity, nevertheless Whittier’s voice -came from his lonely hills with a rugged power all its own. And the -message still rings true and sweet. He is truly a noble Apostle of the -Silence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 75]</span></p> - -<p>It was indeed something of a jump from such associations as these to -a milking-stool beside a bad-smelling cow in a dusty barnyard, or out -among the cactus on the dry plains. Then I soon found that I was on the -road to silence. In that dry country those who naturally suffer from -catarrh are sure to have trouble with the head and ears unless they can -have expert treatment in time. Our ranch was just outside a growing -town; the cattle were herded on the open prairie. We milked our cows in -the open air in Summer and in low sheds in Winter; the milk was peddled -from door to door, dipped out of an open can, so that the dust might -increase the amount of milk solids. That was long before these days of -certified milk or sanitary inspection; I doubt if there was a single -milk inspector in the whole of Colorado. Such milk as we handled could -never be sold for human consumption in these critical modern days. -Happily for us, we had never heard of germs or bacteria. We doubtless -consumed thousands of them with every meal—and rather liked the taste!</p> - -<p>Our custom was to drive up in front of a house and ring a large bell -until someone came out with pail or pitcher. The milk was dipped out -of the can and poured into the open dish. On an early morning in cool -weather some of our customers were slow in responding to the bell. At -those times we would ring patiently until the side door would open a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 76]</span> - -narrow crack and a hand would appear holding a receptacle for the milk. -Whenever I saw those hands extended, I thought of Whittier’s terrible -lines on Daniel Webster: “Walk backward with averted face.” That was the -way we were expected to approach the door.</p> - -<p>On one occasion the milkman had forgotten his glasses, and he was -somewhat near-sighted. He rang his bell before one house for several -minutes with no visible response. Finally he saw the front door open, -and what seemed to him a tin bucket was thrust through the opening. -Being somewhat familiar with the vagaries of lazy housewives, he filled -a quart measure with milk and backed up to the door. He was careful, for -hardly ten minutes before a lady holding out a hand in much the same way -had plainly cautioned him:</p> - -<p>“Walk straight now, and if you bat an eye at this door I’ll call my -husband!”</p> - -<p>In a community where women were a minority such a command was emphatic, -so the milkman proceeded with care and circumspection. Peering about -uncertainly, he carefully poured the milk into what he supposed was a -milkpail. There was a tremendous commotion within, for quite innocently -he had sent a forcible message into the world of silence. It later -appeared that the woman of the house was ill and had been greatly -disturbed by the bell, so Aunt Sarah had volunteered to end the noise. -But Aunt Sarah, though a woman of large and very superior intentions, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 77]</span> - -was not an expert on noises. She was very deaf, and made use of one of -the old-fashioned trumpets with a mouthpiece as large as a good-sized -funnel. She had not been able to fully complete her toilet, so she did -not throw the door wide open; but in order to hear what the milkman -had to say for himself, she made an opening just wide enough to thrust -out the mouthpiece of her trumpet. The man poured the milk into -it—literally giving Aunt Sarah “an earful.” I have heard of several -cases where a great nervous shock or a long continuance of trouble has -suddenly destroyed the hearing. I wish I might say that Aunt Sarah’s -hearing was restored or improved by this milk treatment; the dispenser -of the liquid declares that it had a striking effect upon her voice, -but that she was quite unable to appreciate his explanation. Were I to -repeat some of her remarks, I should add to the force of this narrative, -but hardly to its dignity.</p> - -<p>The town of Greeley was organized as a temperance community. It was -recorded in every deed or lease that the title was to be forfeited at -any time that liquor was sold on the premises, and this regulation was -absolutely enforced, for the settlers were a band of earnest “cranks,” -who saw to it that the wheels went ’round. The result was that this -town contained more cases of near-delirium tremens than any other place -of equal size in the State. It came to be a favorite plan for those - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 78]</span> - -who had been elsewhere on a spree to come to Greeley to sober up. They -could get no liquor except what they brought, and most of that was taken -away from them. The first time I drove the milk wagon I encountered -one of these “patients.” At a lonely place on the outskirts of town -a disreputable character suddenly started up from the roadside and -caught the horse’s bridle with his left hand, meanwhile pointing a long -forefinger at me. He was red-eyed, unshaven and trembly, and I could -not hear a word he said. I took it to be “Money or your life”—and who -ever knew a milkman to have money? It turned out that he was demanding -a quart of new milk with which to help float over a new leaf. I had -nothing in which to serve the milk except the quart measure, but I -filled that and handed it over. The man sat down on the grass and slowly -drank his “medicine”; then I washed the measure in an irrigating ditch -and was prepared for the next customer.</p> - -<p>This man told me that he was making a desperate effort to recover from -a protracted spree, and it was the general belief that a diet of warm -milk was the best treatment. It came to be a common thing for us to meet -these haggard, wild-eyed sufferers, and help them to the milk cure. I -have seldom heard of the treatment elsewhere. It was there considered -a standard remedy, though I have never been able to understand the -psychology or the physiology of it. A friend of mine who is quite deaf - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 79]</span> - -tells me of another experience with a new cure for the drink habit.</p> - -<p>He took his vacation one Summer on a steamer running from Buffalo up -the Great Lakes. Among other supplies he carried a peck of good apples. -I cannot say that apples are to be recommended as a cure for deafness, -but to many of us they are better than tobacco for companionship. The -first day out, while waiting for his fellow-passengers to realize that a -deaf man was not likely to eat them up or convey some terrible disease, -my friend took two mellow Baldwins, found a shady place on the forward -deck, and prepared for a lazy lunch. He was about to bite into the first -of his fruit when an excited man hurried up from below and began talking -eagerly. The deaf man could not imagine what it was all about, and -while he was trying to explain the newcomer snatched the apple out of -his hand and buried his teeth far into it. My friend was reminded of a -wild animal half-crazed for food. At this moment an anxious-faced woman -appeared. The man turned to her, and with his mouth well filled shouted:</p> - -<p>“Mary, you’ll find it in the false bottom of my bag. Get rid of it at -once.”</p> - -<p>The woman disappeared on the run, while the man finished the first -apple and held out his hand for the other. Presently she returned with -two bottles of whiskey, and, going to the side of the steamer, she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 80]</span> - -deliberately threw them overboard. Then, while her husband kept at the -apples, she made the deaf man understand.</p> - -<p>It appeared that her man was a hard drinker, though he was trying with -all his poor enfeebled will to free himself from the slavery. He had -tried many “cures,” but the only way to overcome the desire for whiskey -was to eat sour apples when the craving became too strong. It did not -always work, but frequently this remedy was successful. This trip was a -vacation for him and his wife, and just before the boat had started some -of his companions had brought him two bottles of whiskey, which he had -hidden in the bottom of his bag, and he was waiting for an opportunity -to “enjoy life.” All the morning he had been prowling about the boat -trying to fight off the craving. Finally down in the hold he had come -upon what he called a “funeral outfit.” There was a coffin—but let him -tell it.</p> - -<p>“That coffin was going as freight to the last resting-place, and it -made me realize that I was going by express to the same place. Beside -it stood an undertaker—one of those melancholy individuals with black -burnsides and a long chin. He looked at me, and I thought he was saying:</p> - -<p>‘Come on, old man! This is what rum is bringing you to. Give me the -job.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>“I knew right there that I must decide between that coffin and a barrel -of apples.”</p> - -<p>There came upon him a fierce craving to brace his nerves with some of -the whiskey in his bag. He ran through the ship praying as fervently -as a drowning man for some saving straw. He saw the deaf man with the -Baldwin apple, and he ran to the fruit like a hunted animal—eager to -bite into it and to ease his heated tongue against its sour juice.</p> - -<p>Since I first heard the story I have investigated many cases, and have -never found a heavy drinker who was at the same time a large consumer -of raw apples. And I have run upon several cases where sour apples -eaten freely have safely tided men past the desire to drink. Surely a -prohibition country must be one flowing with milk and apples!</p> - -<p>We founded the Apple Consumers’ League largely on that theory. Something -over twenty-five years ago I was lunching at a New York restaurant. -There was a bumper apple crop that year, and a poor sale for it. Looking -over the bill of fare, I found oranges, prunes and bananas, and an idea -struck me.</p> - -<p>“Bring me a baked apple.”</p> - -<p>“We ain’t got none.”</p> - -<p>“What, no baked apples? I thought this was an American place.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry, boss, but we ain’t got none.”</p> - -<p>By this time everyone within fifty feet was listening. Soon came an - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 82]</span> - -anxious-looking man, rubbing his hands and trying to smile.</p> - -<p>“Nothing the matter with the food, I hope.”</p> - -<p>I could not hear much that he said, and it did not matter. I did my best -to deliver a public lecture on the apple, and all around me people were -nodding as if to say:</p> - -<p>“I’d order one if I could get it.”</p> - -<p>The manager was impressed, and that night for supper he had “Baked Apple -with Cream” written into his card in red ink. Later he came to me and -asked names of varieties and where they could be found. As a result -of this experiment a few of us founded the “American Apple Consumers’ -League.” We pledged ourselves to call for apple in some form whenever we -sat at any public table. Our declaration was cast in rhyme:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Apple, apple, call for apple</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Everywhere you go.</div> - <div class="verse">Closely scan the bill of fare,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And if apple is not there</div> - <div class="verse">Call the landlord down with care!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He will come with smirking manner</div> - <div class="verse">Offering the soft banana,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or the orange—be not shaken</div> - <div class="verse">In the job you’ve undertaken.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Call for apple! Call for apple!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With the problem closely grapple.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Some commercial travelers took it up, and soon nearly every restaurant - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 83]</span> - -in the country began providing baked apple. There was one result which -we did not anticipate. The finer apples do not “stand up” well on -baking; they are delicious, but they flatten to a jelly. The public -demands something that stands up like an apple in shape. This has -created a great demand for the coarse-fleshed fruit of inferior quality, -which will stand up well in the pan.</p> - -<p>We came upon another good office of the apple in this campaign. It is -an ideal toothbrush. We found that the bacteria which cause pyorrhea -are weakened by the mild acid, thus a wash of vinegar and water is an -excellent remedy. This has been verified by dentists, and a mellow, sour -apple eaten raw is likewise helpful. Using a sour apple as a toothbrush -ought to be a popular method of scrubbing the teeth.</p> - -<p>I have perhaps spent unnecessary time over these matters, but in my -study of men who live in the silent world I have found a number who -consider the deaf man justified in finding solace in drink. It is a most -foolish prescription, but I fear the practice is all too common. The -deaf are subject to periods of deep depression, and the argument is that -the moderate use of alcohol will brighten their lives. I can think of -nothing more pitiful or ridiculous than an intoxicated deaf man. Alcohol -is the worst possible companion for the silence. There, if anywhere, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 84]</span> - -the faithless and deceitful comrades of life lead only to darkness and -misery. The deaf man needs every moral brace that life can give him; -no other character who tries to find a place and to adjust himself to -his fellow-men has greater need of the discipline which self-denial -alone can give. Only the finer and more substantial hopes are worth -considering when music no longer greets us and well-loved voices fade -away or lose all their tenderness, when they become harsh and discordant -sounds. Bottled sunshine, taken from coal or the electric wire, may be a -fair substitute for daylight, but bottled happiness will finally bring -nothing but misery to the deaf.</p> - -<p>And yet you never can tell how people will size you up. There was a -deaf man who became greatly interested in prohibition. He could not -even drink coffee as a stimulant. He was to be chairman of the State -prohibition convention, and so started on a night train for the meeting. -Just before retiring he read over his speech, and then crawled into his -berth very well satisfied with himself. About midnight he was awakened -by a heavy hand on his shoulder. You must remember that it is a great -shock for the deaf to be rudely started from sleep in this way; it is -then impossible for them to grasp any new situation quickly. In the -dim light of the Pullman our deaf man saw the figure of a man who was -fumbling about in his suitcase. When he saw that he had awakened the -sleeper, this intruder left the case, opened the curtains and held out - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 85]</span> - -his hand with some object presented straight at the deaf man’s head. As -he was evidently asking some question, the deaf man imagined that he was -a train robber presenting a pistol with a “Hands up,” “Money or your -life,” or some such appropriate remark. The prohibition orator thrust up -his hands and said:</p> - -<p>“I’m deaf. Take it all!”</p> - -<p>The “train robber” talked for a while and then lowered his hand, took -the deaf man by the arm and led him to the smoking-room. There the -“robber” turned out to be the colored porter, with no pistol, but a -glass bottle in his hand. Finally, he slowly and laboriously wrote out -the following:</p> - -<p>“<i>Man in lower four sick. Has got to have brandy. Says you look like a -sport and probably have it on you. Can you fill this bottle?</i>”</p> - -<p>They had taken our prohibition friend for the other sort of a -“rum-punisher.” Such cases of mistaken identity are quite common to the -deaf, and some of them are never fully untangled.</p> - -<p>Once when I entered a crowded dining-room in New York City a young woman -jumped up from a table and greeted me with every evidence of affection. -I had never seen her before, and was greatly embarrassed, especially as -I could not hear a word she said. I tried to explain, but she continued -talking rapidly, holding me by the arm. Of all the people present, no -one thought of coming to my aid except the colored waiter. He was the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 86]</span> - -good Samaritan who talked to the lady and wrote out her story for me on -the back of his order card. She thought I was her Uncle George, who had -agreed to meet her there. She insisted that I was playing a practical -joke in pretending that I was only a plain and somewhat bewildered deaf -man. Finally she obtained a side view of my face which convinced her of -her mistake, and then, greatly startled by the publicity she had caused, -she hurried away. To this day I do not know who “Uncle George” was or if -he ever found his niece. My colored interpreter, however, is still on -duty, and frequently writes out for me the conversations of people near -by.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">Memories of Early Life</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35"> -Reflection versus Conversation—Old Memories—The Lecture -and the Whipping—Education and the Stick—Ridicule -Unbearable to the Deaf—The Office Fight—The Dangers of -Bluffing. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">The deaf man may not excel in conversation, but he is usually strong on -reflection. He has plenty of time, for his life is roughly divided into -three chief periods, working, sleeping and thinking. It may safely be -said that the character and temper of the deaf are determined rather by -their thought than by their work. The greater part of their thinking -is a form of mental analysis. They like to go back to the beginning of -things. That is why the deaf man is such a remarkably superior specimen -of a “grouch” when he puts himself to the task of analyzing his own -troubles. If you could read the thoughts of the deaf as they sit by -themselves without book or work you would find that they are searching -the past to find something which may be compared to their present -experience.</p> - -<p>It is a curious mental sensation, probably far different from anything -that comes to you in your world of sound, unless it comes in moments of -depression, or when you are deeply stirred by old memories. Sometimes - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 88]</span> - -in the evening we become tired of reading and we cannot join in the -music or chatter about us; it is too dark to work outdoors, and we have -accomplished enough for the day. So we amuse ourselves by trying to go -back to the beginnings of things. When did I first fall in love with the -portly lady who sits at the other side of the fire? How much smaller was -she then? When did I find the first gray hair? When did I first discover -that my eyes had failed so that I could not read signs across the way? -When did I begin to discover something of the real life difference -between work and play? We think these things out to no particular -advantage, except that perhaps they may form a text for a moral lecture -to our young people. And now I find that my children very properly pay -little attention to my lectures. I have stopped delivering them since -going back to the original dissertation given for my benefit.</p> - -<p>The old gentleman who brought me up was much addicted to the lecture -cure for youthful depravity. He would seat me in the corner on a little -cricket, and with his long forefinger well extended would depict the -sin and laziness of “this young generation” whenever I forgot to water -the horses or to feed the hens. I can see him now, with his spectacles -pushed up to the top of his bald head, and that thick finger projected -at me as he recounted the hardships of his own boyhood, and his own -faithful and unfailing service. What a remarkable boy he must have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 89]</span> - -been! Then his wife, who was very deaf, and, more unfortunately, very -inquisitive, would appear at the door and shout: “What say?” Her husband -would patiently gather his lungs full of air, make a trumpet of his -hands and roar in her ear:</p> - -<p>“I’m telling the boy about the terrible sin and danger of this young -generation. What kind of a world will it be, I ask you, when such boys -as that grow up to control things? It will be another Babylon, and I -don’t want to live to see it.”</p> - -<p>And his wife, getting only a word here and there, would quote some -appropriate passage from Isaiah and go back to her work well satisfied -that she had done her duty.</p> - -<p>“Behold, I and the children whom the Lord has given me are for signs -and for wonders in Israel:” And now it seems to me, as I sit here, a -gray-haired man of the silent world, that I have seen many of the signs -and wonders, though I did not recognize them as they passed by. That -“sinful young generation” has grown up, and men of my age may be said -to control the nation. It seems to me that it is a good world after -all, and I believe that my mischief-making children will grow up into a -steadily developing generation which will make it better yet. For here -in the silent world we learn to smile at youthful antics, and to have -great charity for them.</p> - -<p>The earliest incident of my childhood that I can remember is the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 90]</span> - -time my father pretended to give us a whipping. My older brother and -I had been sent to bed in disgrace, to wait for father to come home -and administer punishment. I can just recall that we were up in a New -England attic, in the bed at the head of the stairs, surrounded by a -collection of trunks, boxes and old rubbish which a thrifty housewife -always puts “upstairs.” She is too economical to throw them away, and -too neat to have them in sight downstairs. I think the town bell was -faintly ringing, as it always did at six o’clock, and there was a sound -like a gentle tapping as the water lapped at the wharf in high tide. -I can just dimly remember the sunshine streaming in through the dusty -window as we lay there in bed. The dust danced and floated in it like -a flock of tiny flies. Since then I have read much of history. There -have been many occasions when brave souls have waited for death or an -ominous sentence. These scenes haunt the deaf; we cannot talk and laugh -them away as others do. We must put down our book and go back in memory, -seeking something in our own lives which may even remotely resemble -what we have read. That is part of the penalty which must come with the -silence. I remember reading a powerful description of Louis XVI on the -night before his execution. A well-meaning, easy-going man, he had never -been able to realize the serious side of life until it suddenly peered -in through his window with the hideous face of Revolution. Then, face - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 91]</span> - -to face with death, he rose to that dignity “which doth become a king.” -As I read that passage I put my book down, and, ridiculously enough, -there flashed into my mind the picture of these two little boys waiting -for the coming of father with his stick. We had determined that we would -not cry, no matter how hard he hit us. That was our nearest approach to -“dignity.”</p> - -<p>I think that even then my hearing was a little defective. I heard my -father come in below, and mother’s clear voice was certainly intended -for our hearing.</p> - -<p>“Now, Joseph, you go right up and whip those boys! They would not mind -me, and <em>you must do it</em>.”</p> - -<p>All through my life I have somehow managed to hear the unpleasant -remarks or thorns of life. We deaf usually miss the bouquets. Poor -father! The Civil War was raging, and he had volunteered. My young -people seem to think that the Civil War was a mere skirmish beside the -great World War just ended. Perhaps so, if we count only money and men, -yet our part in this recent conflict was but a plaything in intense -living, in sentiment, and breaking up of family life, as compared with -the war of the sixties. Father was to leave home for the front in less -than a week. He was captain of the local company, and should probably -have been stronger in family discipline. But his heart was tender. He -did not want to whip his boys, and he protested, as many a man has - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 92]</span> - -done. I could not hear what he said, but I knew from the expression on -my brother’s face that he was protesting. Tonight, after these long and -toilsome years have boiled out much of ambition and the desire to know -the great things of life, I wish most keenly that I could have heard -what my father said.</p> - -<p>But mother insisted, as good women do, and finally we heard the big man -slowly mounting the stairs. I can see him now as he stood framed in the -doorway with the bright splinter of sunshine bathing him in light; a -tall man with a strong, kindly face and a thick black beard. It is the -only real memory I have of my father, for he did not come back from the -war alive. Long, long years after, I sat at a great banquet next to a -famous Senator, who had seen much of life. I told him that I have only -this memory of my father, but that I had finally found a man who had -served in the same regiment with him, slept in the same tent, who had -known him intimately as a man.</p> - -<p>“Now,” I asked, “shall I hunt up that man and have him tell me in his -own way just what kind of a man my father was?”</p> - -<p>Quickly the answer came from this hardened old diplomat:</p> - -<p>“Keep away from him! Let him alone! Never go near him! Burn his letters -without reading them. You now have an ideal of your father. This man - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 93]</span> - -knows him as just a plain, common man, probably with most of the faults -of humanity. Let him alone! If at your age God has permitted you to -retain an ideal of any human being, keep it pure. Take no chances of -having it blackened!”</p> - -<p>I took his advice, and have always been glad that I did so. It has been -my experience that deaf men are able to hold their ideals longer than -those who can hear; probably this is another part of our compensation. I -would advise every man of the silent world to build up a hobby and gain -an ideal. One will serve to keep hand and brain busy, the other helps to -keep the soul clean. I heard one deaf man say that clean ideals mark the -difference between a “grouch” and a gentleman.</p> - -<p>My father came slowly to the bed where we lay, tuning his voice as -nearly to a growl as the nerves between the vocal chords and the -heart-strings would permit.</p> - -<p>“I’ll attend to your case, young men! I’ll teach you to mind your -mother!”</p> - -<p>Then he began to strike the pillow with his hand, growling as before.</p> - -<p>“<em>Now</em>, will you mind your mother when she speaks to you?”</p> - -<p>It was one of those cases of thought suggestion which I have mentioned. -My brother and I understood. No one can prove that father told us to -cry and help him play his part. Like the horses in the pasture, we - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 94]</span> - -understood. We screamed lustily as father spanked the pillow, though we -had fully agreed between us that we would endure it all without a sound. -In fact, we carried out our part so well that mother, listening below to -see that father did not shirk his duty, finally came running upstairs to -defend her brood.</p> - -<p>“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Joseph, to hurt those little -boys so! They did nothing so very bad!” And there was a great loving -time, with mother holding us close and making little crooning sounds as -she swayed back and forth with us. Father stood by, trying to act the -part of stern parent, with indifferent success. And then he carried us -downstairs, a reunited family, where we boys each had a doughnut with -our bread and milk.</p> - -<p>That was nearly sixty years ago, and I have been forced to stand up and -take punishment for many sins and omissions. If father had lived, it -is not likely that we would have discussed this little deception, but -it still would have been a beautiful memory. My wife, who was once a -school teacher, strong in discipline, says it was a great mistake on -father’s part. Perhaps I show this in defects of character. He should -have taken a shingle to us, she says. Perhaps so; yet after all these -years (and what test can compare with time?) I am glad he acted as he -did. If I were starting on his long journey, I should be likely to treat -my children in the same way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>I have often been asked if deaf people of middle-age can safely be -entrusted with the bringing up of a little child. That depends—both on -the grown people and the child. Generally speaking, I should not advise -it. Deaf people are likely to be obstinate in their opinions, rather -narrow in thought, and slow to understand that the habits and tendencies -of society grow like a tree. Many of them have made a brilliant success -in certain lines of work, but they are apt to be narrow as a board -outside of their limited range. In rearing a child it is a great -disadvantage not to be able to hear its little whispered confidences; -if the little one has no reliable confidant it will grow up hard and -unsympathetic, or it will go with its confidences to the wrong person. I -know deaf people who regret bitterly that they can only give financial -aid and reasonable example to their children, while they long to enter -into that part of child life which can only be reached through sound.</p> - -<p>Looking back over life, I become convinced that my hearing was always -a little dull; probably the trouble started in a case of scarlet fever -when I was a baby, and in those days no one thought of examining or -treating the ears of a child. Also, I think one of my teachers helped to -start me along the road to silence. Those were the days when “corporal -punishment” was not only permitted, but was encouraged. Most of us -were brought up on the “Scriptures and a stick,” and each teacher -seemed to select some special portion of the human anatomy as the most - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 96]</span> - -susceptible part through which to make her authority felt. Some of the -educational methods of those days were effective even if they were -violent. I have had the teacher point a long stick at me and issue the -order:</p> - -<p>“Spell incomprehensibility!”</p> - -<p>I would stumble on as far as “ability” and then fall down completely. In -these days my children are led gently over the bad place in the road, -but then we took it at a jump. The teacher would lay that long stick -three times over your back, and while the dust was rising from your -jacket would make another demand.</p> - -<p>“<em>Now</em> spell it!”</p> - -<p>And I must confess that we were then usually able to do so. This -particular teacher chose the ear for her point of attack; she would -steal up behind a whisperer or a loiterer and strike him over the ears -with a large book, like a geography. Or she would upon occasion pull -some special culprit out to the front of the school by the lobe of the -ear. Such things are no longer permitted in the public schools, yet -I frequently see people in sudden anger slap or “box” their children -on the side of the face or on the ears. It is a cruel and degrading -punishment, and, remembering my own experience, I always feel like -striking those who are guilty of it squarely in their own faces with all -my power.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<p>What annoys the deaf man most is the suggestion that he is being used -as the butt for ridicule. We can stand abuse or open attack with more -or less serenity, but it is gall and wormwood to feel that there are -those who can make sport of our serious affliction. I once worked on a -newspaper where one of the editors was absolutely deaf, unable to hear -his own voice. He was a big man, naturally good-natured and reasonably -cheerful. The foreman of the composing-room was a man of medium size, -and a great “bluffer.” Sometimes he would try to impress strangers in -the office by using the big deaf man as a chopping block for courage. -He would get out of sight behind, shake his fist over the poor fellow’s -head and roar out his challenge:</p> - -<p>“You big coward; for five cents I’d lift you out of that chair and mop -up the floor with you. Step out in the street and I’ll knock your block -off!”</p> - -<p>It was very cheap stuff, though quite effective. The deaf man, of -course, didn’t hear a word of it, but kept on with his work, and many -visitors considered the foreman courageous for calling down a much -larger man. But one day the editor chanced to see the reflection of that -fist in his glasses. He looked up suddenly and caught the foreman right -in the act. The deaf think quickly and accurately in a crisis, and in -an instant this man was on his feet, pulling off his coat. He did not -know what it was all about, but here was a man taking advantage of his -affliction. There is something more than impressive about the wrath of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 98]</span> - -the deaf, and the foreman ran behind a table, took a piece of paper and -wrote the following:</p> - -<p>“I cannot fight. I promised a Christian mother that I would never strike -a cripple, or a deaf or a blind man!”</p> - -<p>The deaf man read the communication and made but one remark:</p> - -<p>“I am under no such obligation!”</p> - -<p>The way he polished off his tormentor was a joy to us all. He could not -hear the foreman yell “Enough!” and we did not notify him until the job -was perfectly done.</p> - -<p>However, the deaf man will be wise if he keeps out of quarrels. When -they arise suddenly he cannot tell which side he ought to be on. I have -taken part vigorously in several sudden and violent battles only to find -when it was all over that I had been doing valiant work—on the wrong -side! Likewise, “bluffing” is taboo. Few men can ever escape with even -the wreckage of a “bluff” unless it is safely mounted on skids of sound. -We all learn these things by hard experience before we discover the -limitations of the silent life.</p> - -<p>Some years ago I attended a banquet where a great company of lions -appeared to have gathered to feed and to listen to a few roars after the -meal. The man next to me would have made a splendid “announcer” for a -circus. Here, he told me, was a famous statesman; that man over there - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 99]</span> - -might have been President; this man had enough money to buy a European -state; the man helping himself to a double portion of terrapin was a -poet; the big man nibbling his bit of cheese was a well-known historian. -He was a man of great ability, though unfortunately somewhat deaf, which -fact naturally interested me so much that I kept an eye on the historian.</p> - -<p>When the toastmaster began his “We have with us tonight,” it seemed as -though every speaker felt that he carried a ticket to a front seat in -the Hall of Fame, and in an evil hour I decided to attempt a little -“bluff.” I rose for a few remarks on agriculture. Pedigree or good -stock is essential to good farming, so it was easy to refer to “my -ancestor, Lord Collingwood.” I had read somewhere that Lord Collingwood -was present at the Battle of Bunker Hill as a petty officer on one of -the English warships. It was quite easy to refer to the fact that I had -one ancestor in that battle wearing a red coat and another behind the -American breastworks wearing overalls! What would have happened to me if -both had been killed? It was what we call very cheap stuff—too cheap -for a deaf man to handle. It was a very silly thing to do, but for the -moment it seemed to impress the audience. Out of the corner of my eye I -saw the historian with his hand at his ear whisper to his companion and -then make notes on a sheet of paper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 100]</span></p> - -<p>“Ah,” I thought with gratification, “I have impressed the great -historian!” And I sat down thinking very well of myself. But the eminent -historian folded his paper and sent it to me by a waiter. This is what I -read:</p> - -<p>“<i>Are you sure of your pedigree? The facts seem to be that Lord -Collingwood had only two children, both daughters. I think neither of -them ever married.</i>”</p> - -<p>Then and there I lost interest in my ancestors. I have no further desire -to trace back my pedigree, especially in the presence of well-read -historians. And I am cured of “bluffing.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">Experimenting With the Deaf Man</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35"> -Deafness Cures—We Forget to Listen—Science and -Scent—Lip-Reading—Judging Character. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">We all have our pet aversions, and with deaf people the popular -candidate for this position is the man who is positive that he can cure -the disease. The “hope-deferred” period comes to most of us, and for a -time we try every possible remedy, only to find that the affliction is -still marching steadily upon us. Then it is the part of wisdom to give -up the experimenting and to dig in as a line of defense all the humor -and philosophy we can muster. It is not so much resignation to our fate -as it is determination to make that fate luminous with hope and good -cheer. Miraculous cures which restore the wasted organs of the body may -now and then be possible, but they are not probable, while it is certain -that too long a period of hope-deferred will cause a sickness of the -soul as well as of the heart.</p> - -<p>Many cannot agree with this philosophy. I think they add to the -terror and trouble of their lives by submitting their poor bodies to -a continuous series of experiments. There was a prominent merchant in -New York, blind, with a disease which the best physicians declared - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 102]</span> - -incurable. He made a standing offer of a quarter of a million to -anyone who would restore his sight. His theory was that this constant -experimenting and treatment kept hope and faith alive. My own experience -with the deaf does not point that way. I truly consider it wiser to -devote the spirit which may be wasted in false expectation to the -task of making the silent land endurable. I know of a woman for whom -a tuberculosis expert prescribed a dry, hilly country, a simple diet -and a cheerful mode of life, involving little or no medicine. She -settled in the country, and some local “quack” told her that a friend -had been cured by taking whiskey in which pine chips had been soaked. -This intelligent woman, considering her doctor’s treatment too mild, -was actually ready to follow this method. As a boy I lived with people -whose lives were long experiments with deafness cures. At that time the -country was full of unlicensed practitioners, who went about promising -to cure every possible disease, and our folks tried them all, just as -they sampled every new brand of patent medicine. Even now, many deaf -men, and especially those who live in the country or small towns, must -expect to be regarded as human experiment stations. We can all relate -remarkable experiences with the various “cures” which have been tried -out on us. From skunk oil to chiropractic and back again, we know every -way station. Few persons appear to aspire to curing blindness, but in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 103]</span> - -every community in which I have ever lived were several individuals who -were certain that they could successfully handle diseases of the ear. -I have seen them stand impatient, their fingers fairly itching to get -hold of me. Usually their “knowledge” of the ear is merely that they -recognize it as the organ of hearing, yet they are quite ready to rush -in where aurists hesitate to enter. Most of the quack remedies may be -harmless, yet sometimes these practitioners have done great injury where -relief might have been obtained through proper care. I think several of -them injured me, and I should feel like taking a shotgun to one of these -amateur aurists were I to find him operating on one of my children. I -wish I knew why the community deaf man of a country neighborhood is -considered so fair a subject for experimentation. Probably in some cases -it is really a nuisance to communicate with him, and again he may be the -object of genuine sympathy, perhaps with an admixture of curiosity. I -have run the whole gauntlet, and should need an entire book to report -all the remedies suggested or actually tried on me.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most popular “cure” is skunk oil. This theory appears to -be that since the skunk has a very acute sense of hearing, he can -communicate this faculty to a human, through his oil. Personally, I -believe the skunk to be a lazy, stupid beast, with hearing below normal; -but, at any rate, we are earnestly told that oil from a skunk, if - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 104]</span> - -dropped into the ears, will surely improve their hearing. No man has -ever given this remedy a fairer trial than I have done. Later an aurist -diagnosed my case as a disorder of the interior ear which was rather -encouraged than cured by the application of the oil. Another “remedy,” -based on a similar principle, is an exclusive diet of pork. Here the -excellent ears of the pig are to be transmitted to the consumer! I -have been several times presented with the argument that deafness is -more prevalent among the Jews and other non-pork eaters than among any -other class. Also, they say that the disease of deafness was rarely -known among the earlier pioneers, who lived mostly on “hog and hominy.” -Possibly this was due to the fact that corn grows on “ears.” At any -rate, here are fair samples of the arguments which are submitted to -the unfortunate deaf. One Winter, when I taught school and “boarded -round,” I experienced a full course of treatments based on this remedy. -It was started by the school trustee, an economical soul, who sold his -butter and fed his family on pork fat. In those days we were innocent -of bacteria or vitamines, and this clever adaptation of a deafness cure -helped the trustee to avoid the local odium which would naturally center -upon a householder who fed the teacher on lard. And with one accord the -neighbors joined in the good work. I moved to a new family each week, -and as the news of the projected treatment spread, each farmer killed a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 105]</span> - -hog just before my arrival. I ate fresh pork every day for three months. -Ungratefully enough, I did not recover my hearing, but the treatment -surely roused the sporting instinct in that neighborhood. Near the close -of the term this comment was reported to me:</p> - -<p>“No, it ain’t done him no good—he can’t scarcely hear it thunder; but -I’ll bet fifty dollars he’s raised bristles on his back.”</p> - -<p>At another time one of these experimenters took me up into the church -belfry, ostensibly to “see the country.” As I stood beside the bell, -he suddenly struck it a hard blow with a hammer, on the theory that -this sudden and violent noise would “break up the wax in my ear” and -“frighten the muscle into a new grip”—whatever that may mean. He -protested that his grandfather had been cured in this way. This same -investigator once tried a very radical treatment on his deaf hired man. -It was Sunday afternoon, and the man had sought surcease from sorrow in -a nap in the haymow. The boss knew how to handle bees, so he selected -one from his hives, caught it safely by its wings, and, climbing the -haymow, he dropped the buzzing creature into the ear of the sleeping -hired man. He was working on a supposition that the man had <em>forgotten -how to listen</em>, and that the buzzing of the bee, and possibly his sting, -would shock him into remembering. But the victim merely started up from - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 106]</span> - -sleep like an insane man, and rushed screaming to the brook, where he -ducked his head vigorously under water and drowned the bee. For long -weeks the poor fellow feared to go to sleep unless his ears were stuffed -full of cotton.</p> - -<p>I asked the boss how he ever came to devise such a treatment for -deafness. He explained that some years before he had had a sick cow, who -had “lost her courage.” She positively refused to stand up, though she -might easily have done so. I have also had cows act this way; they seem -suddenly to have become “infirm of purpose,” and will die before they -will exert themselves. A horse under similar circumstances will finally -struggle to regain its feet, but the cow completely loses her nerve and -will not try. I have had such a cow lifted off the ground by a rope and -pulley, and yet refuse to use her legs. This farmer told me that he -called in a local “horse doctor,” who suddenly threw a good-sized dog on -the cow’s back. The dog barked and scratched, and under the influence -of sudden fear the cow scrambled to her feet and instantly regained the -power to walk. This farmer really was wiser than he knew, for there -are some cases of deafness, such as those caused by shell shock, which -consist in the loss of the ability to listen. Of course, our use of -instruments or lip-reading dulls the art of listening intently, in any -case, and it finally passes completely out of use. In some instances, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 107]</span> - -where the actual ear is unimpaired, this faculty may be shocked back -into use.</p> - -<p>I once had an old lady solemnly assure me that a plaster made from the -lard of a white sow and the wool from the left ear of a black sheep -would surely cure any case of deafness. Query: Could the black sheep of -a family effect a simpler cure by rubbing on the lard and brushing his -hair down over it?</p> - -<p>These are but samples of the dozens of ridiculous “cures” which have -been suggested to me, or even put into operation. I can vouch for the -comparative virtues of skunk oil, vibration, or the inflation of the -Eustachian tubes at the hands of a skilled aurist. And, after all, I -feel that in many cases the doom is sure, and that the best alleviation -for the future silent days is the store of accumulated philosophy and -sunshine. It seems to me that the surgery and general treatment of the -ears has not kept pace with the successful handling of diseases of other -organs. Some real “cure” may be developed, but hardly in my day. I -consider the study of lip-reading the most useful course for the deaf, -and we may at least prepare for the next generation by having the ears -of our children watched as carefully as we watch their teeth, their -eyes, their hands and feet.</p> - -<p>For lip-reading one must have good eyes and a quick brain. Some of -us deaf become proficient in the use of the science, and I think its -practice will extend and become far more general. I have some little - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 108]</span> - -knowledge of it, though I have not made it a prolonged study. It -would be difficult for me to explain exactly why I have not studied -the science more carefully. For many years my aurist told me that my -great hope for holding such hearing as I had was to force myself to -listen, even though I could get little of conversation. He thought that -the constant use of instruments or of lip-reading would weaken and -finally destroy my limited natural hearing, so that in time I should -forget how to listen and hear. This advice was, no doubt, good, though -if I were to go through life again I should make a thorough study of -lip-reading, anyway. In fact, I once started seriously enough, but -was switched away by a curious and disheartening discovery. I began -practicing on the train, studying intently the faces of men and women, -trying to take their words from their lips. Next to the ability to read -thought comes for interest and excitement the power of interpreting -ordinary conversation when the speaker has no thought of betraying his -communications to outsiders. I succeeded only too well with one man. I -had always supposed him to be a person of high character, and had been -wont to envy the recipients of his conversation. I finally was able to -read his lips, only to find that all of his talk was trivial, and some -of it filthy beyond expression. I, in my silence, busy with my gleanings -from good literature, had fancied that my companions were using a gift - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 109]</span> - -priceless to me, and denied, for what we may honestly call “the glory -of God.” My little essay into lip-reading was thus discouraged; it -seemed suddenly a waste of time. Youth is probably the best time for -studying lip-reading, when the spirit for riding down obstacles and -discouragements is stronger.</p> - -<p>The inexplicable sixth sense—a sort of intuition which we deaf -acquire—appears to be even stronger in afflicted animals than in men. -Sometimes it leads to an amusing outcome. In a certain New England State -a law was passed prohibiting exports of quail, and a well-informed -scientist was put in charge of it. He knew all about the habits of -quail, but little about the practical side of legal enforcement. He -made a tour through the State to consult with his deputies, and in -one locality he found a rough old farmer serving as game warden; an -independent old fellow, very deaf, most opinionated, with small respect -for professional knowledge. His constant companion was a little mongrel -dog, also very deaf. A strange silent combination they made, but they -carried a State-wide reputation for “spotting quail.”</p> - -<p>The clash came at the railroad station, where the professor was waiting -for his train, completely disgusted with the appearance and general -attitude of the warden. The latter came slouching along the platform -with the small brown dog at his heels, and the face of the learned man -became as a book, in which the countryman could “read strange matters.” - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 110]</span> - -The deaf are prompt to act when action seems necessary or desirable. -They do not join in useless preliminaries. Quickly and decisively the -game warden opened the campaign.</p> - -<p>“You’re going home to fire me, but before you leave I want to tell you -before this crowd that you don’t know as much about this business as my -dog Jack does. He’s deaf, too!”</p> - -<p>There are few situations more damaging to dignity than a public -argument with an angry deaf person—especially when the participator -with good ears is a polished gentleman and ladies are present. Again, -some men might appreciate the compliment of being associated with a -large, noble-looking dog. But the professor glanced at Jack and fully -realized the size of the insult. Here was just a little brown dog of -no particular breed, with one ear upright and the other lying limp, -evidence of previous injury in a fight. How was the professor to know -that because the outer door of those ears was shut the brain had been -forced to greater activity. And here was a shambling backwoodsman -telling a Ph.D. that this disreputable creature was his mental superior! -The professor was too indignant for words, but the game warden was ready -to continue:</p> - -<p>“I’ll prove it! I’ll prove it right here. There’s a shipment of quail -going out of this town right now. Right on this platform are three -farmers, an old woman with a basket, two drummers with bags, old man - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 111]</span> - -Edwards with a trunk, and that young woman with a fiddle case. Who’s got -the quail? Here’s a case where it don’t do us no good to know how many -eggs a quail lays or how many potato bugs she has in her gizzard. Who’s -got the quail? Can you tell?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” gasped the indignant professor, “do you suppose I am going to -insult this young woman by intimating that she is a quail runner? And -these gentlemen? It’s preposterous!”</p> - -<p>“It is, hey? Give it up, do ye? Well, we’ll try Jack. He can’t hear -nothing, but his ears have went to nose. Sic ’em, Jack!” And he snapped -his fingers at the little dog.</p> - -<p>Jack put up his one capable ear and trotted along the platform, -applying his scarred nose to each package. He sniffed at the bags of -the drummers, nosed the trunk and the baskets, and finally came to the -violin case of the beautiful young woman. The instant his nose touched -that case every hair on Jack’s back stood erect and that broken ear -came as near to rising as it ever had done since the fight. Jack was -undoubtedly “pointing” at the hiding-place of the quail. In spite of -the young woman’s protest, the warden opened the case, and inside were -thirteen quail, snugly packed. Probably the lady could not even play the -“Rogue’s March” on a real violin.</p> - -<p>And the farmer strode up triumphantly to the professor. Shaking a long - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 112]</span> - -forefinger, he stated an evident truth.</p> - -<p>“Professor, mebbe you’ve got the science, but you hain’t got the scent!”</p> - -<p>Some of you who think that the loss of hearing can never be replaced by -a new sense may well be wary in your dealings with the deaf. There are -those like Jack, whose “ears have went to nose” and their “scent” is -quite too acute to be deceived.</p> - -<p>I am often asked how we pass our time when we are alone or unoccupied. -We cannot, of course, beguile the time with music or the conversation -of chance acquaintance. In some way the mind must be kept occupied—an -idle mind leads to depression, the first step of the trip to insanity. -One’s eyes weary of constant reading. Perhaps our loneliest situations -are found in the great crowds. I have invented all sorts of schemes to -keep my mind busy. In the old days, when I crossed the Hudson daily to -New York on a ferryboat, I would count the number of revolutions which -the great wheel required to take us over. I had the average of many -trips. I have gathered all sorts of statistics. What proportion of men -in a crowd wear soft hats? How many wear straw hats after the regulation -date for shedding them? Does the majority of women wear black hats? -What proportion of men cross the knee when sitting? Does a right-handed -man ease his left leg in this way? What proportion of the dark-colored - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 113]</span> - -horses one sees have the white spot or star on the forehead? I started -that investigation and was astonished to find how common this white -star is. Then I went through all available books to learn how this star -originated. Is it the remnant of a blazed face? I have never solved my -question. Such investigation is a marvelous help to the deaf.</p> - -<p>Another of my plans is character study. I try to determine the -occupation and general character of strangers from their appearance, -their habits and the books they read. You would be surprised at the -accuracy of the observant deaf man in detecting these external marks -which he comes to understand. He finally secures a most interesting -chart of humanity, for in spite of us, character and occupation will -leave a stamp upon the face and actions. But we cannot always classify -strangers accurately. Here is one of my curious blunders: I saw daily -on the train a big, brutal-looking fellow with a red face, a flat -nose, well-protected eyes, and enormous arms and shoulders. I finally -classified him as a prize-fighter. One day he was reading a small book, -in which he was making frequent marks and comments. I reasoned that it -must be some new version of the “Manly Art of Self-Defense.” Soon my man -put down his book and went into the next car. Of course, I could not -resist the impulse to glance at the volume. It was “The Influence of -Christian Character in College Work.” My prize-fighter turned out to be - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 114]</span> - -a professor in a theological seminary. At any rate, he was in the battle -against evil.</p> - -<p>No other persons can ride a hobby so gracefully and to such good purpose -as the deaf are able to do. No matter what it is, however childish, so -long as it can keep the mind clean and busy, it is our most wholesome -mental exercise. I know a deaf farmer who late in life started to -collect and properly name every plant that grew on his farm. It was -not only a wonderful help to him, but he became an expert botanist. -And this recalls a discussion perennial with deaf men. Will they be -happier in the country or in the city? The person inexperienced in -deafness will immediately decide for the country, but I am not so sure -that he is right. Farming is a business in which sound is important; -animals betray pain or pleasure largely through sound; a poultryman is -at a great disadvantage if he cannot hear the little ones. Then, too, -some deaf persons crave the sight of their fellows; it is a pleasure to -them to mingle silently with crowds; to see the multitudes pass by. The -country—far from the rush and struggle of humans—actually terrorizes -some deaf men. For myself, I greatly prefer the country, and I have -selected fruit trees as my working companions. They talk the silent -language, and they do not need to cry out when they wish to tell me -that they need help. Yet, of course, we are better off if we mingle -frequently with our fellows.</p> - -<p>Sometimes in public life or in crowds the right thing comes to us like - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 115]</span> - -an inspiration. There was a deaf man who went out to address a meeting -of farmers. It was held in the open air, and a stiff wind blew straight -from the ocean to the speaker’s stand. The meeting was important; the -farmers were discouraged and discontented and had come to hear sound -advice and fearless comment. A cautious politician gave them half an -hour of unmitigated “hot air”—a collection of meaningless words and -high-sounding phrases. Then a well-known scientist followed with what -might appropriately be called “dry air.” The farmers disconsolately -classified both addresses as “wind,” and enough of that was blowing from -the ocean. Instinct told the deaf man that something was wrong, though -he had sat patiently through the long speeches without hearing a word. -When his turn came, he walked out of the wind into the shelter of a tree -and began:</p> - -<p>“Job was the most afflicted man who ever lived. Of course, I know that -there are men who claim that Job had a bed of roses compared with their -constant afflictions. But Job has the advantage of good advertising in -the Bible. He spoke a great truth when he said:</p> - -<p>‘Can a man fill his belly with the east wind?’”</p> - -<p>A mighty roar of laughter from that audience startled the deaf man. -Fortunately he had said just what was needed to explode the gloom and -disappointment of that audience.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">Companions in Trouble</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The Deaf in Social and Business Life—The Partially -Deaf—Endeavors to “Get By”—The Yeas and the Nays—Fifty -Cents or a Dollar?—The Safety of the Written Word—The -Indian and the Whisky—The Boiling-down Process—The New -Sense Developed by Affliction—The Deaf Cat and the Piano. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">During the years of expectancy, when we continue to look forward to -a cure, we deaf generally try to deceive ourselves along with others -by refusing to admit our condition, and by attempting to conceal the -defect in conversation. Many people are more or less deaf in one ear; -frequently they really do not realize the extent of their affliction. -They go through strange performances in their efforts to hear. Have -you ever seen a horse or a mule traveling with one ear bent forward -and the other reversed? The animal is, no doubt, somewhat defective in -hearing, and he “points” his ears front and back so as to catch all -noises, particularly commands from the driver. Back in the earlier ages -man also possessed this power of moving the ears; most of us have seen -individuals who still can control the muscles on the side of the head -so that their ears “wiggle.” All of us still have these muscles, even - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 117]</span> - -if they have fallen out of use. Ear specialists say that many of us do -actually move our ears slightly when making a great effort to catch the -conversation. At any rate, human beings with defective hearing must bend -forward, or even move about a circle of talkers to get in full range -of the voices. We wonder sometimes why people insist upon getting on a -certain side of their companions, and always walk on the inside of the -street. Such a person is merely maneuvering to present the live side of -his head.</p> - -<p>It is really very foolish for the deaf to attempt to conceal their -affliction; it places us in a false position, and we are at an added -disadvantage in society. We may hide our trouble for a time, but sooner -or later we will be found out, and it is far wiser to be frank in the -first place. Some of our misguided efforts to pose as full men have -humorous results. We have various tricks of the trade which we at times -employ to catch or hold conversation. One common plan is to lead the -discussion along lines which will enable us to do most of the talking. -It has been said of the deaf man that he either talks all the time or -else says nothing, and that sometimes he does both at once. Sometimes -we meet a talker who is desperately determined to tell all of his own -story—which is one involving many fatal direct questions, such as -“Am I right?” “Do I make myself clear?” Then the deaf man is hopelessly -lost, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 118]</span> - -and the part of wisdom is to produce pencil and pad.</p> - -<p>A friend of mine who knew that he was going deaf conceived the brilliant -scheme of saying “Yes,” or nodding his head to agree with everything -that was said to him. He felt that the path of least resistance lies -along the affirmative—in letting others always have the say. One day -he settled himself in the first vacant chair in a barber shop, at the -mercy of a very talkative barber, with whom expression of thought had -become merely a vocal exercise. My friend knew that this man was talking -and asking questions, but as he could hear nothing, he merely nodded at -each evident interrogation point. He had some important work on hand -which he was trying to develop, and, as is the habit of the deaf at such -times, he became absorbed in his thought and quite unmindful of what the -barber was doing. At each questioning look he emerged from his brown -study only long enough to nod his head. Finally the barber finished, and -presented a check for about three dollars. It then appeared that instead -of asking the usual questions about the weather and business the man -had been talking hair cut, singeing, facial massage, moustache curling, -hair renewer, and all the rest. Delighted at such a model customer, -the loquacious barber had done his full duty. Nothing but that special -Providence which guards fools and deaf men had saved my friend from the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 119]</span> - -bootblack, the vibrator and the manicure girl.</p> - -<p>I recently read in the daily paper of a lawsuit in which a man sued his -barber to recover $4.75 obtained in just this way—the plaintiff being -a deaf man. The justice decided against the barber on the ground that a -man cannot legally be said to order a service unless he knows what it is -going to be. So, score another for the deaf man.</p> - -<p>This and similar experiences convinced my deaf friend that the road to -affirmation is well lined with a group of citizens who do far more than -hold out their hats for charity. No deaf man is safe on that highway. -So he changed his method and shook his head at all questions. He said -that experience had convinced him that at best this is a selfish world, -and most men approached him seeking some advantage rather than offering -service: therefore a general negative was the best policy. Shortly after -making this decision he attended a reception at a wealthy man’s country -home. At one stage of the proceedings the men were all invited into a -side room, where a very dignified butler marched about and whispered to -each guest in turn. My friend ran true to form and shook his head. In a -short time a fine drink was served to everyone except himself.</p> - -<p>As his affliction progresses, the deaf man learns frankly to admit his -inability to hear. This turns out to be a remarkably effective way to -separate the sheep from the goats, for most people will never go to the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 120]</span> - -trouble of making us understand unless they have some really important -message to deliver. Whenever we owe money, we find that our creditors -are quite able to communicate with us; would that our debtors were -equally insistent! Now and then comes a man who feels the tremendous -importance of his message, although no one else recognizes it. He -looks upon the deaf man as his select audience, and after giving us an -agonizing half-hour, he goes on his way, pluming himself on the kindly -deed he has performed in helping the neglected deaf man to valuable -information!</p> - -<p>I once lived in a little Southern town where the man who kept the livery -stable was quite deaf. He was popularly known as a “near” man, “so close -you could see him.” “The only thing he could hear was the clink of money -in his pocket.” The men who worked for him often had trouble getting -their money. One day his stableman, Ben Adams, colored, approached the -boss and screamed in his ear:</p> - -<p>“Mr. Brown, can I have fifty cents?”</p> - -<p>Brown heard him perfectly, but no one ever extracted fifty cents from -him without working for it. So he put on a fierce look and roared:</p> - -<p>“<em>What?</em> What did you say?”</p> - -<p>Exceeding penury had made Ben Adams bold. Here was a chance to raise his -demand, and the delay bolstered his courage. So he made a trumpet of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 121]</span> - -his hands and roared again:</p> - -<p>“Massa Brown, can I have <em>a dollar</em>?”</p> - -<p>Brown donned that fierce scowl which the deaf know so well how to -assume, and roared himself:</p> - -<p>“I thought you said fifty cents!”</p> - -<p>The only safety for the very deaf man is to have the message written -out. Lip-reading and the use of superior instruments are frequently -very helpful, but my own experience is that it is a mistake to accept -anything but written evidence. I take it that sound conversation is -uncertain at best, and when a message is passed along through several -persons, all more or less careless in speaking or listening, it is sure -to be twisted out of its original shape. In our Southern printing office -there was a stock anecdote about the Indian who mixed up his message.</p> - -<p>This Indian was printer’s devil in a small newspaper office in -Mississippi. He was said to be a star performer whenever he was -supported by firewater. In those days local printers made their own ink -rollers out of glue and molasses. During the Civil War the old roller -wore out, and it became necessary to send the Indian to Vicksburg for -the material for a new one. The printers did not dare write out the -order, for if papers were found on the Indian he would be hung for a -spy. So they coached him carefully and told him to go on saying over and -over to himself:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 122]</span></p> - -<p>“Something sticky and something sweet.”</p> - -<p>They felt that Vicksburg would understand this trade language, so they -started him off with the money. The Indian made straight for Vicksburg -through swamps and woods and across streams, ever repeating the -mysterious message. On the last lap of his journey he fell and struck -his head on a log with such force that he lay unconscious for a time. -Finally he recovered, shook his scattered wits together and went on -repeating the message. But it had been affected by the fall. Subjective -audition may even have been responsible, but, at any rate, when he -finally scrambled into the store at Vicksburg and presented his money, -he called for:</p> - -<p>“Something sweet and something to drink.”</p> - -<p>The merchant was well posted in this metaphor, so he fitted the Indian -out with a jug of whiskey and five pounds of brown sugar. A day or two -later the red man walked proudly into the printing office with this -roller material. The printers were given to philosophy, and, being -unable to make the ink roller, they proceeded to make a company of -high rollers, in which task they were ably assisted by the faithful -messenger. During the carouse a company of Grierson’s Union cavalry rode -into town. All trades were represented in the Union army, and a couple -of Northern printers used the printing outfit to good advantage. When -the owners woke up they were put to work printing one of Lincoln’s - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 123]</span> - -proclamations.</p> - -<p>By insisting upon written communications we deaf lose much of the -skim-milk of conversation, but we come to be expert in estimating -the ability of our friends to express themselves in clear and simple -English. Try it on a few of your visitors. You will be astonished to -see how many well-educated men will fail at the simple test of writing -what they have to say quickly and tersely on paper. They flounder like -schoolboys. My observation, as I look out from the silent world, is -that with many humans talking becomes a sort of mechanical operation, -usually involving no particular thought. It takes brains to put words on -paper; and, again, the written word is actual evidence. A man speaking -to you, and writing to me, would probably give me the stronger and more -reliable account—and work harder while doing it. I know a very pompous, -dignified gentleman of the old school who would probably say to you:</p> - -<p>“The fateful hands upon the clock registered midnight’s doleful hour -before my head sought my pillow.”</p> - -<p>Or, “The emotions generated by that pathetic occasion had such a -profound effect upon me that I fell into a lachrymose condition.”</p> - -<p>If I handed him my pencil and pad he would get down to:</p> - -<p>“I went to bed at twelve. I wept.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 124]</span></p> - -<p>Another bar to wordy discussions on paper is the fact that many -well-informed people are not sure of their spelling. In this modern age -too many business men depend upon their clerks and stenographers to see -to such trifles as spelling and grammar; their own knowledge of the -mechanics of expression grows dusty. One reason for the decline of the -Roman Empire was that the soldiers became too lazy to carry their own -weapons. They left them to slaves, and the slaves practiced with the -implements of war until they became so expert that they overcame the -masters. I think of this sometimes when a man who has nearly lost the -art of writing through this transfer of the medium of expression from -the hand to the mouth tries to communicate with me. Once I received -a scathing reply to an excuse I made to a correspondent—that a sore -throat had made it difficult for me to dictate letters. He acidly -inquired how long it had been since people wrote letters with the throat.</p> - -<p>Ignorant men who write little usually make the meaning evident, though -the form cannot be called graceful. One night a drunken man drove into -my yard by mistake. It was pitch dark, and I happened to be alone on the -farm. His horses, eager for harbor, had turned into our road. I went -without a lantern (the family had taken it on their trip) to turn his -horses about and start them down the highway. Then he became possessed -with a strong desire to tell me all his troubles. Of course, as I could - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 125]</span> - -not hear them, I made no reply, and my silence so enraged him that he -wanted to fight. He clambered down from the wagon and groped about in -the darkness to reach me. At last I made him understand that I could not -hear, whereupon he was seized with a great grief for my trouble, and -insisted on writing out his sentiments for me. There was no denying him, -so off at one side of the buildings I started a little blaze of straw, -and by its light he scrawled on a piece of writing paper with a blunt -pencil. By the same flickering light I deciphered this:</p> - -<p>“<i>I am darn sorry. My brother cured his’n with skunk oil.</i>”</p> - -<p>Then he drove off singing, glad in his heart that he had offered -consolation to an afflicted brother.</p> - -<p>My children have been interpreters for me from the time they were able -to write. They can go with me on business trips and get the message -which others frequently cannot deliver on paper. At first they found -this hard and irksome, but it has proved remarkably good drill for -them in English. They have come to be excellent reporters, with the -ability to put the pith of long sentences and whole lectures into a -few exact words. This exercise of giving the deaf man an accurate and -brief account of the great volume of an ordinary conversation has really -developed their powers of expression.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 126]</span></p> - -<p>We of the silence know that but few words are needed to grasp the really -essential things of life, and we often wonder why others lose so much -time in the useless approach to a subject when we can often see through -it by intuition. Probably one of the compensations of our affliction is -that we actually come to consider that these talkative, emotional people -who surround us are abnormal. Two men with good ears meet for a business -deal. They must go through the formula of discussing the weather, crops, -or politics before they start at the real subject. The whole discussion -is useless and irrelevant, yet they both feel that in some way it is -necessary, and even when they reach the point at issue, they seem to -prolong the debate with useless formal details. The deaf man cannot do -it that way. He must fully understand his side of the case beforehand, -forego all preliminaries, and plunge right into the heart of the subject -with as few words as possible. Is this entirely a disadvantage? I think -the man with perfect hearing might well learn from the deaf man whom he -pities in this respect to cut out useless conversation and spend the -extra time in thinking out his project. The most forceful and dependable -men you know are not long talkers and elaborators. Their words are few -and strong.</p> - -<p>While a philosopher may perhaps summon this sort of reasoning to his aid -in the matter of conversation, he cannot apply it to music. Here the -deaf are quite hopeless. I have little knowledge of music, and could - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 127]</span> - -never fairly distinguish one note from another. I have often wondered -whether a real musician who has lost his hearing can obtain any comfort -from <em>reading</em> music as we read poetry or history for consolation. -Can a man hum over to himself some of the noble operas and obtain the -satisfaction which comes to me from “Paradise Lost” or Shakespeare? No -one seems to be able to tell of this; but of all the sorrowful people of -the silent world, the saddest are the musicians, for sound was more than -life to them. I read that Beethoven could muster no consolation when the -silence finally fell upon him. Life had turned dark, with no hope of -light.</p> - -<p>I often sit with people who tell me that they are listening to -delightful harmony of sound—music. My children grow up and learn to -play and sing, but I do not hear them. When my boy plays his violin -I get no more pleasure from it than I do from his sawing of a stick -of wood—not so much, in fact, for I know that the wood will build up -my fire and give me the light and heat which I can appreciate. It is -absurd, and I smile to myself, but sometimes when others sit beside me -with invisible fingers playing over their heart-strings at the wailing -of the violin and the calm tones of the piano, my mind goes back to -Lump, the white cat.</p> - -<p>There is a general belief that white cats are deaf. I know that some - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 128]</span> - -of them cannot hear, and Lump was one of the afflicted. I am bound to -say that Lump endured his loss with great equanimity; he was more of a -success than I ever was. He has given me more points on living happily -in the silence than I ever obtained from any human being. He forgot the -drawbacks and enlarged the advantages. Lump was never strikingly popular -with my wife. She <em>would not</em> have cats in the house, and, her hearing -being good, she could not appreciate the philosophy of this particular -specimen. The proper place for cats, in her mind, was the barn, where -they may perform their life duty of demolishing rats and mice. There are -some humans who, like Lump, are forced into ignoble service when they -are really capable of giving instruction in psychology.</p> - -<p>Long before my time men have been forced to meet their boon companions -under cover of darkness, or they have had to make private arrangements -for a rendezvous with the “guide, philosopher and friend.” So, sometimes -at night, after the rest of the family had retired, I would open the -back door. There always was Lump, curled on the mat, ready to share my -fire. Many a time as I let him in I have taken down a familiar old book -from its shelf and read Thackeray’s poem:</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 129]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“So each shall mourn, in life’s advance,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Dear hopes dear friends untimely killed;</div> - <div class="verse">Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And longing passion unfulfilled.</div> - <div class="verse">Amen! Whatever fate be sent,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Pray God the heart may kindly glow,</div> - <div class="verse">Although the head with care be bent,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And whitened with the Winter’s snow.</div> - </div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Come wealth or want, come good or ill,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Let old and young accept their part,</div> - <div class="verse">And bow before the awful will;</div> - <div class="verse indent2"><em>And bear it with an honest heart</em>,</div> - <div class="verse">Who misses or who wins the prize.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Go; lose or conquer as you can,</div> - <div class="verse">And if you fail, or if you rise,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Be each, pray God, a gentleman!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>And Lump would sit at the other side of the fire, turn his wise head to -one side, and look over at me as if to say:</p> - -<p>“Old fellow, we are two of a kind—a rejected kind. They pity us for our -misfortune; let’s make them envy us for our advantages. I know more of -the habits of rats and mice than any cat in this neighborhood, because I -have been forced to study them. I have made new ears out of my eyes and -nose and brain, and so developed a new sense—instinct, which is worth -far more than their hearing. Why can’t you do the same with men?”</p> - -<p>Those were great nights with Lump before my fire, and we both understood -that when the interview was over he was to go outside. One night, -however, I forgot this, and as I went sleepily off to bed he stayed - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 130]</span> - -curled up by the warm hearth. The dreams of a deaf man are usually -vivid and emphatic. Sleep may be your time for rest and relief from -noise; with us it may be our period of music and excitement. That night -I dreamed that I was engaged in a prize-fight. I had given the other -man a knockout blow, when suddenly the referee came up from behind and -struck me on the side with such force that my ribs all seemed to give -way. I “came to” to find an energetic figure sitting up in bed beside -me, and pounding my side in an effort to bring me back to assume my true -position as defender of the family. Around the bed were grouped several -small white figures, and at last they made me understand.</p> - -<p>“There’s someone downstairs. He’s robbing the house. We can hear him. Go -down and see about it!”</p> - -<p>“What’s he doing?”</p> - -<p>“Playing the piano.”</p> - -<p>I will admit that my experience with burglars is somewhat limited, but -I had never heard of one who stopped to play the piano before starting -to burgle. Only a very desperate character would be likely to do that. -There have been numerous cases where a deaf man has been shot down when -approaching a house at night. He may have come on the most innocent -errand, but as he could not hear the command, “Speak or I’ll fire!” -he kept steadily on and was shot. I remembered these incidents, but -could not recall any instance where the deaf man was supposed to give - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 131]</span> - -the order. But I had been telling my children great stories of life on -the plains, and the only way for me to remain a hero was to tackle the -intruder. I took my big stick and started down, while my wife brought a -lamp and held it at the top of the stairs. I presume she was handing out -some very sensible advice as I descended—but I could not hear it.</p> - -<p>Now, what would you do and what would you say if you were roused at -night, led by your family into a conflict, only to find an old and -trusted friend robbing the henroost? I probably felt all your emotions -when I caught sight of that robber. The piano had been left open, and -there, walking up and down the keyboard impartially on black and white -was my old friend Lump—the deaf cat. He was taking advantage of a -night in the house to go on a voyage of exploration. His jump on to the -piano led to my disgrace. The “robber” was quickly flung into outer -darkness by an indignant woman, and probably I escaped a plain recital -of my shortcomings only by lack of hearing. Do you know, while I would -congratulate the husband on his escape, I always feel sorry for the -lady, who would be well justified in giving her man a full lecture, and -yet knows that he would not hear it. However, I feel that some innocent -member of the family may receive the impact of these remarks. At any -rate, before we were settled the baby woke up. It certainly was one - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 132]</span> - -of those rare occasions when the deaf man appreciates his advantages -enthusiastically.</p> - -<p>But why did Lump, in spite of his usual good sense, decide to try the -piano at midnight? Of course, he did not know he was making a noise; but -why mount the piano? I puzzled over this, and the wise old cat looked at -me pityingly; but I could not understand. Every time he could slip into -the house he went straight to the piano for a promenade up and down the -keys. I began to think that we had developed a wonderful “musical cat.”</p> - -<p>Some time later the piano seemed to need tuning, and a tuner came to -take the muffle and twang out of its strings. When he opened up the -front, the mystery of the musical cat was revealed. Just behind the -keys, inside, was the nest of a mouse; she had carried in a handful -of soft material—and in it were half a dozen baby mice. Lump had not -been attempting “Home, Sweet Home”; his thought had been more nearly -along the line of “Thou Art So Near, and Yet So Far.” He had no ear for -music, but he had a nose for mice, and he had demonstrated his knowledge -of the habits of mice. I, too, have found it wiser to judge people by -their habits rather than by their music, for there are many who would be -willing to play “Home, Sweet Home” while in reality they are after the -mice.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">The Approach to Silence</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The Approach of Deafness—The College -Woman—Student Methods in General—Calamity and -Courage—Animals and Thought Communication—Another -Compensation—Pronunciation and the Defensive Campaign. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Some years ago we planted a hedge at the end of my lawn. For years -I could sit at the dining-table and look over it. At night I saw my -neighbor’s window-light, and by day I could see him or some of his -family moving about the house or the fields. As the years went on I -became aware that the hedge was growing. Finally there came a Spring -when the bushes were filled out with foliage so that all view of the -neighbor’s house was lost. I could not see the light at night. While I -knew the people were moving about during the daytime, I could not see -them. The hedge had shut me away from them, yet it had grown so slowly -and so gently that there was no shock. Had my neighbor shut himself -suddenly away from view by building a spite fence, the loss would have -been far greater. This instance somewhat resembles the difference -between sudden loss of hearing and its slow fading away.</p> - -<p>I know of the curious case of a woman who could not be made to realize - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 134]</span> - -that her hearing was going until the common tests of everyday life -convinced her that she was going deaf. What are these common tests? The -usual ones are inability to hear the clocks and the birds. Very likely -you have been in the habit of listening to the clock at night when -for some reason sleep was impossible. It has been a comfort to you to -think how this constant old friend goes calmly on through sun or storm, -through joy or sorrow, gathering up the dust of the seconds into the -grains of the minutes, and forming them into bricks of the hours and -days. Or you may have been alone in the house on a Winter’s night. You -heard the house timbers crack, and gentle fingers seemed to be tapping -on the window pane. Then there came a night when you lay awake and -missed the sound of your old friend, who seemed to have stopped checking -off the marching hours. Many a deaf person waking in the night, missing -the sound of the clock, has risen from bed and brought a light to start -the old timepiece going. Not one of you can realize what it means when -the light falls upon the face of the clock, revealing the minute hand -still cheerfully circling its appointed course. The clock is still -going, but something else has stopped.</p> - -<p>We have endured another test in watching the birds. Most of us can -remember when the morning was full of bird music. One day as we walk -about it comes suddenly home to us that the birds are silent or have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 135]</span> - -disappeared. At least, we can no longer hear them. We look about and -notice a robin on the lawn. We see him throw back his head, open his -mouth and move his throat. He is evidently singing—but we did not know -it. I cannot tell you in ordinary language how a chill suddenly passes -over the heart as we realize that as long as life lasts music is to -become to us as unsubstantial as the shadow of a cloud passing over the -lawn.</p> - -<p>The woman I speak of knew by these tests that her hearing was failing. -She was a student at college, where quick and sound ears are essential -if one is to obtain full benefit from lectures. I know just what this -means from my own experience, since I entered college some little time -after my ears began to fail. I am frequently asked how it is possible -for students with defective hearing to obtain an education. To the -ambitious man or woman the first thought on discovering the beginnings -of deafness is that the mind must be improved so as to make skilled -labor possible. Too many deaf people after a brief struggle feel -that fate has denied them the right to an education, and they give -up trying in despair. I found several ways of partly overcoming the -difficulty. I copied notes made by another student. In every class you -will find several natural reporters who make a very clear synopsis of -the lectures, and are rather proud of their skill. I found one lazy and -brilliant fellow who was an excellent reporter, though he absolutely - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 136]</span> - -refused to study. He would give me his report and I would look up the -authorities and help him fill in the skeleton. We served each other like -the blind and the halt. I also made arrangements with several professors -to read their lecture notes. Most of them are quite willing to permit -this when they find the deaf man earnest and determined. In fact, the -average professor comes to be a dry sawbones of a fact dispenser, whose -daily struggle is to cram these facts into the more or less unwilling -student brain. When an interested deaf man appears, actually eager to -read the lectures, the soul of the driest professor will expand, for -here, he thinks, is full evidence of appreciation. The world and the -units which comprise it have always admired determination, or what plain -people call “grit.” I think it has been given that name because it is -that substance which the fighter may throw into the works of the machine -which would otherwise roll over him.</p> - -<p>Working thus, I came to know something of the inner life of these -professors, whose daily routine comes to be a struggle with untrained -minds which resent all efforts to harness them. The attitude of the -average student in the class-room, as I recall it, reminds me of our -trotting colt, Beauty. She was so full of trotting blood that at -times it boiled over into a desire for a mad run. We thought we had a -world-beater, but when we put her on the track she could barely shade - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 137]</span> - -four minutes. An experienced trainer took her in hand, put foot-weights -and straps on her and forced her to change her gait and concentrate -her power. How that beautiful little horse did rage and chafe at this -indignity! One could imagine her protest.</p> - -<p>“Let me be free! Do I not know how to pick up my feet and use my limbs -for speed? My father was a king of speed—my mother of royal blood! Set -me free! Nature has given me natural swiftness—I do not need your art!”</p> - -<p>But they held poor Beauty to it, though she chafed and lathered, and -tried to throw herself down. Everywhere she met the weights, the straps -and the cruel whip. At last she submitted to discipline and did as she -was told. She clipped fully ninety seconds from her natural speed for a -mile, but while she was forced to obey she had little respect for her -trainer.</p> - -<p>Could my college professors have controlled their human colts with -weights, straps and whips, it is more than likely that education would -have established a new record. I found my teachers quite willing to give -the list of references from which their lectures were taken, and with -these in hand the deaf student may read in advance of his class and be -fully prepared. As a rule, he does not stand high in recitations, but -excels in his written work. The truth is that for work which requires -study and research, deafness is something of an advantage. It enables - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 138]</span> - -a student fully to concentrate his mind on the subject. It seems to me -that most of the world’s imperishable thoughts have been born in the -silence, or, at least, in solitude. The fact is that the human ear, for -all the joy, comfort or power it may give, is at best a treacherous and -undependable organ. Perhaps I cannot be classed as an authority on a -subject which involves accurate hearing, but I know that the greatest -danger in my business is that we are sometimes forced to rely upon -spoken or hearsay evidence. I will not use statements in print until -they are written out and signed. Too many people depend for their facts -upon what others tell them. The brain may distort the message and memory -may blur it. The wise deaf man learns to discount spoken testimony, and -will act only upon printed or written words. I have had people come to -me fully primed for an hour’s talk of complaint or scandal; I hand them -a pad of paper and a pencil, settle back and say:</p> - -<p>“Now tell me all about it.”</p> - -<p>That pen or pencil is usually as efficient as a milk-tester in -determining the surprisingly small amount of fat which exists in the -milk of ordinary conversation.</p> - -<p>You see, as I told you I should be likely to do, I have wandered away -from the text. That is characteristic of the deaf, for we seldom hear -the text, anyway. The woman I started to tell about managed to work - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 139]</span> - -through college and began treatment for her deafness. This promised some -relief, when suddenly the great earthquake shook San Francisco. The -shock and fright of that catastrophe destroyed her hearing entirely. I -have heard of several cases where deafness came like this, in a flash. -As one man repeated to me:</p> - -<p>“At twenty-nine minutes past ten I actually heard a pin drop on the -floor of my room. At half-past ten it would have been necessary to prick -me to let me know that the pin was there.”</p> - -<p>And this woman’s mother died. Her daughter was forced to sit beside her -at the last, unable to hear the message which the mother, just passing -into the unseen country, tried to give. In all the book of time, I -suppose there is recorded no more terrifying sadness than the fact of -this inability to hear the parting words. Sometimes I regret that I -promised not to make this book a tale of woe, for what could I not tell, -if I would, of the soul-destroying sadness of this longing to hear a -whispered confidence?</p> - -<p>The woman of whom I speak did not shrivel under the heat of calamity. -She continued treatment, and has made some slight gain in hearing. And -now she has qualified as an expert physician. People wonder how a deaf -person can possibly diagnose organic diseases, such as heart trouble, -or even pneumonia. They can do it, for I have known several very deaf - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 140]</span> - -physicians who yet have met with marked success. One in particular was -for years a chief examiner for a large insurance company. There was -something almost uncanny about the way this man could look into the -human body and put his finger upon any weak spot. I finally decided -that he had developed as a substitute for hearing a hidden power to -record with the eye and mind the symptoms not visible to most of his -profession. The others depended on man-made charts and rules. Their -perfect ears had made them slaves to common practice. My deaf friend, -deprived of the ordinary avenue of approach for consultation, had pushed -off like a pioneer into the unknown, where he had found the mysterious -power.</p> - -<p>I am well aware that I am getting out where the water is deep and that -many of you are not prepared to swim with me. But there are some very -strange things happening in the silent world. Have you ever noticed -two deaf people trying to communicate? Strange as the process may -appear, they are able to make each other understand, and they do it -quite easily, where a person with good ears would have great trouble. -I feel convinced that this century will see a system of wordless -thought communication worked out, though its beginnings may be crude. -It will be developed first by the afflicted, chiefly by the deaf. I am -sure that you have noticed, as I have, how the so-called dumb animals -can communicate. Let us take a group of horses at pasture. Now that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 141]</span> - -gasoline has so largely superseded oats as motive force on our farms, -younger people may not fully understand, but most people of middle age -will remember how old Dick and Kate and all the rest went to a service -of grass on Sunday. Perhaps they were scattered all over the field. -Suddenly Dick, the galled old veteran off by his fence corner, raised -his head and considered for a moment. Near by were old Sport and Kate, -feeding side by side as they have worked in the harness for years. Soon -old Dick walked meditatively up to this pair. He halted beside them and -they stopped feeding for a moment, apparently to listen. The old horse -stayed with them for a time and then walked slowly about the field to -the others. No audible sound was made, but finally, one by one, the -horses all stopped feeding and followed their leader up to the shadow -of the big tree. The gray mare and her foal were the last to go. There -in the shade the horses stood for some time with their heads together. -Evidently some soundless discussion was taking place. At one point the -gray mare threatened to kick old Dick, but she was prevented by big Tom, -who seemed to be sergeant-at-arms. After a time they separated, and -each went back to the spot where he was feeding. Who does not know that -there has been a convention at which these horses have agreed upon some -definite line of conduct? They may have organized a barnyard strike - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 142]</span> - -or mutiny. Dick and Kate may refuse to pull at the plow. Perhaps the -council agreed to let certain parts of the pasture grow up to fresh -grass. We saw the colt chasing the sheep back to the hill. No doubt -he had been appointed a committee of one to do this, since the sheep -nibble too close to allow an honest horse a good mouthful. At any rate, -through some power which humans do not possess, these animals are able -to communicate, and to make their wants known. I presume that originally -man possessed something of this strange power. As he developed audible -language he let the ability fall into disuse. The Indians and some -savages have retained much of it. I take it that the deaf, shut away -from much of ordinary conversation, redevelop something of this power.</p> - -<p>Kipling brings this idea out well in some of his Vermont stories. The -farmer goes on Sunday afternoon to salt the horses in the back pasture, -where the boarding horses are feeding. These boarders represent a -strange mixture. There are “sore” truck horses from the city, family -nags on vacation, and old veterans whose days of usefulness are ended. -With this mixed company, bringing in all the tricks of the city, are -the sober work horses of the farm. The farmer puts his salt on the -rocks where the horses can lick it, and then sits down to look over the -rolling country. Several of these city boarders are of the “tough” - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 143]</span> - -element, and they attempt to stir up a mutiny.</p> - -<p>“See,” they say as they lick the salt, “now we have him. He does not -suspect us. We can creep up behind him, kick him off that rock and -trample him.”</p> - -<p>But the farm horses object. This man has treated them well, and they -will fight for him, and the toughs are awed. I have spent much time -watching farm animals at silent communication, and I have come to -believe that Kipling’s story may be partly true. I have seen our big -Airedale, Bruce, sit with his head at one side watching the children -at play on the lawn. He will walk off to where the other dogs are, and -evidently tell them about it, glancing at the children as he does so.</p> - -<p>Some men are able to talk with their eyebrows or their shoulders or -their hands so that they are easily understood. I talked with an Italian -once through an interpreter. This man was a fruit-grower, and my friend -explained to him that I was growing peaches without cultivating the -soil, just cutting the grass and weeds and letting them lie on the -top of the ground. The Italian regarded this as rank heresy, and he -evidently regretted his inability to express himself in English. He did -give a curious long shrug to his shoulders, he spread out his hands, -rolled his eyes and spat on the ground. He could not possibly have -expressed his disapproval more eloquently, and I understood his feelings -far better than I did those of the learned professor who elaborated a -complicated theory for growing peaches.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 144]</span></p> - -<p>All intelligent deaf men will tell you that they know something of this -subtle power. Edison is very deaf, and I am not surprised to learn -that he is studying it, attempting to organize it. It is one of the -interesting mysteries of the silent world, and it can be made into a -great healing compensation for one who will view his affliction with -philosophy, concentrating his mind upon its study.</p> - -<p>While, of course, I could make a long catalogue of the compensations -and advantages of deafness, we must all admit that there is another -side. For instance, the man of the silent world must avoid the -pitfall of pronunciation. When sound is lost he forgets how words are -pronounced, and the new words and phrases constantly entering the -language are mysterious stumbling blocks. For example, no sensible deaf -man will mention the name of that Russian society, the epithet now so -glibly applied by conservatives to all who show radical tendencies. -Nor would he attempt to put tongue to the hideous names of some of -the new European States, or even to the name of McKinley’s assassin. -He lets someone else attempt those, some reckless person with good -ears. A strange thing about it is that our friends do not understand -our limitations in this respect. My wife ought to know most of the -restrictions and tricks of the deaf. Yet she was quite surprised when I -hesitated about reading a church lecture without a rehearsal. It was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 145]</span> - -a canned lecture, where you procure the slides and the manuscript, and -select some well-voiced “home talent” to read it. I was chosen as the -“talent,” but I remembered how years before I upset a sober-minded group -by twisting up “Beelzebub.” Therefore, I wanted to read the lecture over -several times and practice on some of the hard Bible names. Suppose I -ran unexpectedly on those men who went down into the fiery furnace. -Every child in the Sunday school could reel them off perfectly, but I -had not heard of them for years, and I defy any one to get them right at -sight.</p> - -<p>Let the wise deaf man stick to the words he knows about until he has -practiced the new ones to the satisfaction of his wife and daughter. He -may well put up a defensive fight in most of his battles. Let him be -sure of his facts, sure that he is right, and then stand his ground. Let -others do the advancing and the countering and play the part of Napoleon -generally; the deaf man will do better to “stand pat.”</p> - -<p>“But when was there ever a successful defensive campaign?”</p> - -<p>I advise you to get out your history and read of the Norman conquest. -The battle of Hastings decided that. The Saxons lost that battle by -refusing to “stand pat.” They ran out of their stronghold and were -divided and destroyed. Had they taken my advice to deaf men, the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 146]</span> - -history of England would have been bound in blond leather instead of -black! That might have made considerable difference to you and me. I -think I may say without fear of contradiction that the deaf invite most -of their troubles by running out after them; when if we would keep -within our own defenses and stand our ground we might avoid them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br /> -<span class="smcap smaller">Mixing Word Meanings</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Misunderstandings and Half-meanings—The Lazy -Vocalists—The Minister and the Chicken Pie—Reconciling -the Deaf Old Couple—When One Book Agent Received a -Welcome—Putting the “Sick” in “Music.” -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">The average man does not begin to realize how sadly he has neglected the -training of his vocal organs. I have known men who have less than half -the articulation of a bullfrog to blame people with dull hearing because -they cannot understand the muffled mouthings and lazy vocalisms. Here we -deaf have a real grievance. There ought to be a world where the blame -and the ridicule for a failure to hear would go to the talker rather -than to the listener. The mouth is more often at fault than the ears, -although society will not have it so. There are people who run their -words together like beads crowded on a string. Others talk as though -their mouths were made for eating entirely, and were constantly employed -for that purpose. “His mouth is full of hot hasty pudd’n,” is the way -my deaf aunt would put it—and she was right in more ways than one, -for usually these mumblers and mouthers come with a foolish or useless -message, though they may consider it of the highest importance. Others - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span> - -seem to consider it bad form to talk loud enough for the ordinary ear to -catch the sounds. I frequently wonder if people with such featureless -voices realize how they are regarded by those who are approaching the -silence. They seem to me persons who have hidden a priceless talent—not -in the earth like the unfaithful servant of the parable, but in their -chests, like a miser. It seems to me a crime to turn what might become -a flute or a silver-toned cornet into a whimpering bellows or a cracked -tin horn. I would have every child trained in some form of elocutlon -or music; such lessons would be far more useful to the world than much -of the geography and so-called science now taught in our schools. Many -blunders can be traced to the mumblers and lazy-voiced talkers.</p> - -<p>Some of our commonest and most amusing mishaps are caused by our getting -only a word here and there in a conversation—and it often happens -that we seize upon something unimportant in a sentence and dress it up -grotesquely with our own ideas of what the speaker is trying to convey. -This is bad business, I know, but many people show such impatience when -we ask for repetitions that we prefer to take chances.</p> - -<p>I remember one farm family consisting years ago of a very deaf and -dominating woman, her mild and well-drilled husband, and the boy they -were “bringing up.” The woman mastered the household, partly because - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span> - -it was her nature to rule, and partly because it was impossible to -argue with her. She never heard any opposing opinions. The evidence was -always all one way—her way. The dominant or self-assertive deaf are the -greatest tyrants on earth; those who are not self-assertive are usually -bossed and put aside. In this family the deaf man and the boy well knew -how to keep to their places. There was something calculated to make you -shiver in the almost uncanny way the deaf woman would catch that boy at -his tricks. Every now and then she would stand him up in a corner, point -a long, bony finger at him and demand:</p> - -<p>“<em>Boy, are you doing right?</em>”</p> - -<p>As he was usually meditating some bit of mischief, this constant appeal -to conscience kept him well under subjection.</p> - -<p>One cold day in early Spring the man and the boy were sorting potatoes -down cellar. That is a hungry job, and they were poorly fortified by a -light breakfast. The old man had cut a piece from the salt fish which -hung from a nail and divided it with the boy, but he truthfully said -it was not very “filling.” However, it made them thirsty, so in a few -minutes the man went up to the kitchen for a drink of water, and also -for the purpose of considering the prospects for dinner. His wife sat by -the stove reading her Bible, and he came up close to her.</p> - -<p>“What ye goin’ ter have for dinner?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span></p> - -<p>“Who’s goin’ ter be here?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody but the boy.”</p> - -<p>In those days the line-up at the dinner-table made considerable -difference to the housekeeper. A “picked-up dinner” was ample for the -family, but special guests meant more elaborate fare. The lady had -listened attentively and had caught the sound of just one word—“boy.” -She used that for the foundation of the sentence, and let imagination do -the rest. So she gave her husband credit for saying:</p> - -<p>“The Reverend Mr. Joy.”</p> - -<p>Now this Mr. Joy was the minister. There was little about him to suggest -his name, but those were the good old days when “the cloth” was entitled -to a full yard of respect—and received it. In these days a woman may -gain fame by writing a book, running for office or appearing in some -spectacular divorce case; but these are commonplace affairs compared -with the old-time excitement of entertaining the minister and having him -praise the dinner. If the Rev. Mr. Joy was to be her guest, the farm -must shake itself to provide a full meal. So the deaf lady hastened at -once into action; she put her book aside, shook up the fire vigorously, -and meanwhile acquired a program.</p> - -<p>“In that case we’ll have chicken pie!”</p> - -<p>The man and the boy went out and ran down the old Brahma rooster. They -finally cornered him by the fence, where the old gentleman fell on him -and pinned him to the ground. Then they cut off his head, plunged him - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span> - -into hot water, and the boy picked him, having stepped into a grain -sack, which served as an apron. That rooster had the reputation of being -old enough to vote, but those New England housekeepers well knew how to -put such a tough old customer into the pot and take him out as tender as -a broiler.</p> - -<p>It was not until that chicken pie was on the table that the old lady -finally understood that she had exerted herself for the boy and not -for the minister. But again she rose at once to the occasion. That pie -was too rich for her plain family, so she carefully put it away in the -pantry and fed her husband and the boy on remnants. These consisted -of scrapings from the bean-pot, one fish ball, boiled turnips and one -“Taunton turkey,” which was the fashionable name for smoked herring. The -pie was held for next day, when the reverend was actually invited, and -he came.</p> - -<p>It may have been your pleasant privilege to see a hungry minister, whose -lines are cast in a community where thrift marches a little ahead of -charity in the social parade, get within a few feet of a genuine New -England chicken pie. If you have not experienced this, you do not know -the real meaning of eloquent anticipation. Mr. Joy was hungry, and old -Brahma had certainly acquired the tenderness of youth. The minister had -had two helps and wanted another; he saw a fine piece of breast meat - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span> - -right at the edge of the crust. It was an occasion for diplomacy, for -well he knew that the lady was planning to save enough of that pie for -the Sunday dinner. He cleared his throat and put his best pulpit voice -into the announcement:</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Reed, this is an excellent pie!”</p> - -<p>This compliment did not quite carry across the table.</p> - -<p>“What say?”</p> - -<p>Very slowly and distinctly did Mr. Joy repeat his compliment in shorter -words.</p> - -<p>“<em>This hen is a great success.</em>”</p> - -<p>The lady got part of that sentence. She was sure of “hen” and “great -success.” It happened that her nephew, Henry, was a student at the -theological seminary, and had delivered a strong sermon in the local -church shortly before. Naturally she thought the “hen” referred to him, -particularly as anyone ought to have known that the pie had been made -from an old rooster. So, with a pleasant smile she acknowledged the -compliment, coming as near to the target as the deaf generally do:</p> - -<p>“<i>Yes, I always said that Henry was best fitted of all our flock to -enter the ministry.</i>”</p> - -<p>The Reverend Mr. Joy put his head on one side and let this remark -thoroughly soak into his mind. Then he silently passed his plate for -that piece of white meat, as he should have done before. Action is far - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span> - -more emphatic than words to the deaf.</p> - -<p>Then there were the two old people who had become estranged. Both were -very deaf, without imagination, and very stubborn. They quarreled -over some trivial misunderstanding, and refused to speak to each -other; for years they had lived in the same house, with never a word -passing between them. Probably the original trouble was due to a -misunderstanding of words, but when the deaf are obstinate and “set in -their ways,” you have the human mind like an oyster depositing a thick -shell of prejudice around the germ of charity and good nature. This is -one reason why they of all people should continuously read good poetry -and stories of human nature; this is their best chance for keeping in -touch with common humanity, and if a man lose the contact he is no -longer a full man.</p> - -<p>So these old people lived together and yet never addressed each other. -There was one ear trumpet between them, and they always waited for -visitors to come before trying to communicate. They had been known to -call in some stranger who chanced to be passing in order that he might -act as intermediary. In truth, the old couple still loved each other in -an odd, clumsy fashion, and both would gladly have broken the silence -had not the pride of each refused to “give way.”</p> - -<p>One day the neighbor’s boy came to borrow some milk, and both seized - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span> - -upon him to act as interpreter. He screamed an explanation of his errand -to the old lady.</p> - -<p>“Pa tried to milk old Spot, and she kicked him and the pail over. Ma -wants to borry some milk to feed the baby.”</p> - -<p>“Tell him to get the pan off the pantry shelf.”</p> - -<p>The boy delivered the message and the old man got the milk.</p> - -<p>“Tell her I want my dinner.”</p> - -<p>The boy did his best to scream this into the lady’s ear, but his feeble -voice cracked under the strain. The listener got only one clear sound.</p> - -<p>“Says he’s a miserable sinner, does he? You’re right; he is. I’m glad to -see he’s getting humble. Tell him I’m waiting for dry wood. If I don’t -get it, I’ll raise Cain!”</p> - -<p>The boy ran over to the man with this message. The part about the wood -was easy for there was the empty wood box. The rest of the message was -too dull for his ears. So he hunted up pencil and paper and told the boy -to write it out, while his wife sat congratulating herself with:</p> - -<p>“Well, I may be kinda deaf; but I ain’t so bad as he is.”</p> - -<p>After a protracted struggle with the pencil, the boy produced:</p> - -<p>“She says she’ll give you cane.”</p> - -<p>“A gold-headed cane. Just what I wanted! ’Pears to me Aunt Mary’s - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span> - -getting ready to admit she was wrong. You tell her I knew she’d smart -for it!”</p> - -<p>The boy went faithfully back across the room and screamed the message, -which she understood to be:</p> - -<p>“He knew you’re awful smart!”</p> - -<p>There was no question about the pleasure this gave her, but when was any -woman of spirit easily won? She could not give way so quickly.</p> - -<p>“You just tell him to keep his soft soap for washing days!”</p> - -<p>The boy again did his best, but the old man only heard “soap” and -“days,” and happily, imagination came to his aid and framed:</p> - -<p>“I hope for happy days!”</p> - -<p>The old man looked at his wife for a moment, and there was a mighty -struggle in his mind. Finally he hunted for their community ear trumpet, -and marched across the room to her side. At great cost of pride he put -the tube of the trumpet to her ear and shouted:</p> - -<p>“I’d like to <em>make</em> it happy days, Mary; and I kinda think I was part -wrong. Anyway, here I be speaking first.”</p> - -<p>Aunt Mary took her turn at the trumpet.</p> - -<p>“Reuben, I’m awful glad you spoke first. Thinking it over, I guess I was -a little to blame, too, but not half as much as you were!”</p> - -<p>And Reuben saw visions of his old courting days, when they could both -hear whispered confidences, when this gray and wrinkled woman was a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 156]</span> - -blooming girl. And the old man rose to heights of wild extravagance.</p> - -<p>“Here, boy,” he said, “I’ll give you ten cents to go out to the shed and -split an armful of that soft pine.”</p> - -<p>And after the door closed behind him—well, there is a human language -which needs no words for its interpretation; it is action.</p> - -<p>It is no wonder that when the boy returned Aunt Mary was so flustered -that instead of filling the pail with the skim-milk, she poured in fine -cream! That baby had a full supply of vitamines for once.</p> - -<p>I am acquainted with a young man who once went out into a country -neighborhood to canvass for a subscription book. This man was somewhat -deaf, just enough to make him mix words a little. Of course, he had no -business to serve as a book agent, but the deaf will sometimes attempt -strange things. He stopped at one farmhouse and found a middle-aged -man and woman in the sitting-room. The man was evidently annoyed and -embarrassed by the book agent’s entrance, but the latter paid little -attention. He ran glibly through his story twice, and finished as usual, -handing his pencil over with his usual persuasive:</p> - -<p>“Sign right here, on this dotted line.”</p> - -<p>“Not on your life,” was the man’s response; but the agent heard only one -word distinctly, and got that wrong. He understood:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span></p> - -<p>“Talk to my wife,” and, being on the lookout for any encouragement, he -proceeded to do this in his best style.</p> - -<p>“Why, madam, think for a moment what it will mean to have this beautiful -book on your center table. When your husband here comes in from his work -it will entertain him and give him a kindly regard for his family. And, -madam, consider your children. When they come to the age of maturity -with such parents—” But that was as far as he could go, for the woman -dropped her work, screamed and ran from the room, leaving the book agent -completely mystified over what he had said to start such a scene. The -man glanced at him for a moment, and then snorted with satisfaction. He -rose and started after the woman, only halting in the doorway to say:</p> - -<p>“It’s a good idea, all right. You wait here until I come back.”</p> - -<p>Moments like these test the temper of the deaf man’s steel. He had -evidently stirred up a violent tumult, but he has no idea what it is -about and when or where it will boil over. The troubled agent sat by the -window and looked out at a savage bulldog which had come from behind the -house and was now waiting in the path with something like a sneer on his -brutal face, expressing:</p> - -<p>“Here I am, on duty. Come and get yours! I need a new toothbrush, and -your coat is just what I have been looking for.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span></p> - -<p>And then back came the man, smiling like a May morning.</p> - -<p>“Here, let me have the book. I’ll take two copies. Never had anything do -me so much good. Why, sir, I’ve been courting that fine woman for ten -years, and neither one of us could ever get up to the point, leap year -or any other. Then you come along and make that break about calling her -my wife. That did the business, sure—pushed us right into the river. I -just chased right after her and caught her in the kitchen. ‘Ain’t it the -truth?’ says I. ‘And if it ain’t, let’s make it so.’ And all she said -was: ‘Oh, William, I’m so happy—go right in and tell him to stay to -dinner.’ Say, give me that pencil. I’ll sign up for three copies while -I’m at it.”</p> - -<p>Looking through the window, the agent saw that the bulldog was -listening, and he must in some way have understood, for he shook himself -and walked mournfully back to the barn.</p> - -<p>If lifelong practice will bring perfection in the art of communicating -with the deaf, my daughter ought to be an expert. Her experience shows -something of the magnitude of the job. This young woman and her mother -attended a reception at the Old Ladies’ Home. There was to be a very -fine musical program, and the elder lady, as one of the managers, -appointed her daughter a scout to see that all the old ladies came in -to hear the music. This energetic scout found one sweet-faced inmate -waiting patiently in her room, even after the entertainment had started. -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p>“Can you hear the music?”</p> - -<p>The young woman knows how to talk to the deaf, and she did her best.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Are you not coming to hear the music?”</p> - -<p>The words were carefully separated, and shouted close to the ear.</p> - -<p>“Hey, who’s sick? I’m sure I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>The old lady heard one sound clearly, and twisted it into the wrong word.</p> - -<p>“Of course, you went on and explained the thing carefully to her,” I -suggested.</p> - -<p>“No, I did not. I just changed the subject, and told her it was a fine -day.”</p> - -<p>And that, I take it, is typical of much of the effort to interpret life -to the deaf. We can always tell them that it is a fine day. The old lady -sat contentedly in the silence, unaware of the fact that near at hand -the orchestra was working gloriously through what the local paper called -a “fine musical program.” The chances are that she was better off in the -silence. Most of us hear too much, anyway.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“The Whispering Wire”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Telephone Difficulties—Seeing and Believing—Bell -and the First Telephone—Choosing Intermediaries by -Professions and Appearance—When the Bartender Beat the -Preacher and the Farmer—The Prohibition Convention—The -Hebrew Drummer as a Satisfactory Proxy. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Often I wonder if those who make such glib use of the telephone can -possibly realize what it means to be unable to operate it at all. I -see my wife with the instrument at her ear bowing and smiling to some -invisible talker some miles away. Sometimes I ask why she should smile, -frown, or nod, to some one over in the next county, and though she has -never given a satisfactory answer, I take it that the mere sound of the -human voice is enough to excite most of the emotions. This commonplace -affair, as a matter of course conveying audible sound over long -distance, becomes to the deaf marvelous, a contrivance almost uncanny.</p> - -<p>The woman who brought me up was very deaf, and, like many of us who live -in the silence, very narrow and most inquisitive. On Winter evenings -she would often read aloud to us chapters from Isaiah describing some -of the wonders which that poet and visionary predicted for the future. -Then she would give her own version of the account, while her husband - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span> - -nodded in his chair and I was busied with my own dreams. I now wonder -what would have happened if I had told her that some day a man would -stand in the city of Boston with a small instrument at his ear and -would hear a person in San Francisco talking in an ordinary tone of -voice. At that time there was not even a railroad across the continent. -West of Omaha was a wild Indian country, filled with cactus and alkali -water. The folly of talking about delivering coherent sound across -that waste! I have heard of a missionary who went to the interior of -Africa and lived there with a pagan tribe. He told them stories of life -in the temperate zone, and while they could not understand, they made -no objection and politely listened. Finally he told them that at one -season of the year the water froze—that it became so hard that people -could walk on it. Here was something tangible; they understood water. -The statement that people could walk on it was a lie, of course, and -they threatened to kill the liar. Another man, a Vermonter, went to the -Island of Java and married a native woman. He told her about buckwheat -cakes and maple syrup in the Green Mountain State, and she would not -believe him. Finally she came to regard him as a deceiver. He wrote me -for help, and I sent him a sack of buckwheat flour and a can of syrup. -They made a journey half around the world, but at last the Vermonter - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span> - -cooked a batch of pancakes which quite restored him to favor. The deaf -and the deficient are likewise hard to convince unless the evidence is -put before them in terms of their own understanding. If I had presented -my humble amendment to the prophecies of Isaiah, I think it would have -been decided that I possessed an evil spirit of the variety which may be -exorcised by a hickory stick.</p> - -<p>Later, as a young man, I saw Alexander Graham Bell working with the -first telephone—a short line between Osgood’s publishing house in -Boston and the University Press in Cambridge. It seemed then more of a -toy than a device of practical value, and as I remember him, Bell was -a rather shabby inventor. His messages were mostly a loud shouting of: -“Hello! Hello! Can you understand me?”</p> - -<p>Beginnings are rarely impressive or attractive, and the actual pioneer -seldom recognizes himself as such. I saw one of the great men of Boston -stand and laugh at Bell’s clumsy machine and at his efforts to make it -work.</p> - -<p>“Bell,” he said, “it isn’t even a good plaything. I’ll agree to write -a letter, walk to Cambridge with it, walk back with the answer and get -here long before you can ever get a reply with that thing.”</p> - -<p>And Bell looked up from his apparent failure with a smile of confidence.</p> - -<p>“I will make it work. The principle is right. We will find the way. The -time will come when this boy here will be able to talk with anyone in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span> - -any part of New England without raising his voice above an ordinary -tone.”</p> - -<p>And as a boy I thought that if I could ever face criticism and ridicule -with such confidence, the world, or at least as much of it as is worth -while, would be mine. I had faith in what Bell told us, and looked -forward to the day when his words would come true. The prophecy has been -more than fulfilled for others, but for us of the silence the telephone -remains a mystery which others must interpret for us. Yet somehow I feel -as confident as Bell that in some way out of our affliction will come a -new means of communication between humans which will make the silence an -enviable abiding-place.</p> - -<p>My children have become greatly interested in radio communication. As -I write this one of my boys is developing a crude outfit with which -he actually takes sound waves from the air and translates them into -music or speech. People tell me of great concerts and speeches sent -through the air for hundreds of miles. Tonight thousands of country -people, seated in their own homes, are listening while this marvelous -instrument reaches up into the air and brings down treasures of sound -until it seems as though the speaker or singer were in the next room. We -deaf can readily understand what all this will mean for the future; it -will undoubtedly do more than the automobile toward bringing humanity - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span> - -together and grouping the peoples of the world in thought and pleasure. -Yet how little it will mean to us! It may even be an added cross, for -evidently both pleasure and the business of the future are to depend -more and more upon the ability to hear well.</p> - -<p>I can remember as though it were yesterday the day that Lincoln was -assassinated. I was a small youngster, but the event was printed into my -brain. I know that news of this world-shaking event passed but slowly -out into the country. There were lonely farms out among the hills where -farmers did not know of Lincoln’s death for days. There was no way of -quick communication. I thought of that during the last deciding baseball -game between the Giants and the Yankees. Seated in our farmhouse beside -his little radio ’phone, my boy could even hear the crack of the bat -against the ball. He could hear the roaring of the crowd and the growl -of “Babe” Ruth when the umpire called him out on strikes. And all this -marvellous change has come about during my life! You may perhaps imagine -the feelings of the deaf when they realize that they are shut away from -such wonderful things.</p> - -<p>But modern life is so efficiently strung upon wires that even the deaf -must at times make use of the telephone. Some of our experiences in -selecting proxies to represent us at the wire are worth recording. -Every deaf man who takes even a small part in modern business must make -some use of the ’phone or be helplessly outdistanced in the race. In - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span> - -the West they tell of a Mexican who wanted to get a message to his -sweetheart. They offered him his choice between the telegraph and the -telephone, and explained the difference. He chose the telephone without -hesitation, for he “wanted no man in between.” The deaf man must have -some one “in between,” and usually it is a matter of nice judgment to -choose the person to occupy that position. From choice the deaf will -take the telegram; they can read it, and the fact that each word costs -a certain sum of money means a brief message. If telephone messages -were paid for in the same way, all the world would gain in brevity of -expression, or else the income taxes of telephone companies would soon -pay the national debt.</p> - -<p>It is remarkable how a deaf person with good eyes comes to be an expert -at estimating character by appearance or actions. I find that we -unconsciously analyze habits or manners, and group the possessors with -some skill. Let a man come to me and write out his questions, and I am -very sure that I can tell his business. A doctor accustomed to writing -prescriptions frames his questions slowly and stops at the end of each -sentence to make sure of the next one. A bookkeeper writes mechanically, -and seldom prepares an original question. A grocer or a drygoods clerk, -accustomed to writing down orders, betrays his occupation by certain -flourishes with the pencil when he tries to write out a question, just - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span> - -as he is seized with a desire to rub his hands together during a sale. -One would think that a lawyer would be very successful at this task. He -usually fails. I have appeared as witness in several lawsuits, and able -lawyers have completely lost their efficiency (and their patience) in -trying to cross-examine me. Should any deaf person who reads this be -called to the witness chair, my advice would be absolutely to refuse to -answer any question that is not written out and first read by the judge. -His examination will not become tedious. To the lawyer who desires -a clear, straight story from a deaf person, I should say make the -questions short and clear. Have most of them typewritten beforehand, and -keep good-natured. A deaf man who knows the resources of his affliction -can become expert at concealing evidence.</p> - -<p>Many men tell me that they finally estimate a man’s power and character -by the quality and tone of his voice. The substitute knowledge or -“instinct” which we gain through observation is nowhere more useful -than in selecting telephone proxies from strangers. Take this man -with the stiff neck and erect shoulders. Where shall we draw the line -between stupid obstinacy and firm character? Here is this shambling -and shuffling person. Does his manner denote a weak, nerveless will, -and inability to concentrate his mind, or is it merely superficial, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span> - -easy-going good nature, when at heart he is capable of flashing out in -anger or taking a bold stand? The fellow who keeps his hands in his -pocket and the other who constantly waves them about—a deaf man may -well beware when either approach him. And what of the man who seems to -be continually looking for post, tree or wall against which he may lean? -We come to know them all.</p> - -<p>Some years ago I chanced to be in a small Alabama town, among people I -had never seen before. My mission was a delicate one, demanding keen -judgment and careful diplomacy. It became absolutely necessary for me to -communicate promptly and privately with my wife, who at the time was on -a steamship somewhere off Cape Hatteras. I could not use a telephone, -but I found a man whom I could trust. So I telegraphed to Charleston and -instructed my wife to call a certain ’phone number in this Alabama town. -The message was repeated by wireless, and far off on the wind-blown -ocean it reached the ship and was delivered. When the good lady reached -Charleston she called up the number I had given, delivered her message -to good ears, and it was turned over to me accurately in writing. One -can readily see how tragic it would be if the interpreter for the deaf -man chanced to be careless or criminal, for I should regard it as no -less than a criminal act for one purposely to deceive a deaf person. I -have employed strangers of all colors and conditions in this position - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span> - -of trust, and it is pleasant to think that most of them have been -efficient and true in the emergencies. For it <em>is</em> an emergency when -one is suddenly called upon to act as interpreter in the affairs of a -stranger. This matter of using the telephone has become so simple to -most people that it is hard to realize the dire complications it may -involve for the deaf.</p> - -<p>Once I was delegated to meet my sister and daughter at the old Long -Island ferry in New York. They had spent the day on the island, and were -to come back at night. Before the Pennsylvania Railroad dug its tunnels -under the East River passengers came across from Long Island City at -Thirty-fourth street. The landing and the transfer to street-cars was a -jumble at best. It was about the easiest place in the world to miss your -friends in daylight, while in the evening, under the dim lights, hunting -for human express packages was much like going through a grab-bag. My -passengers did not arrive. There was no sign of them anywhere among -the masses of humans which boat after boat poured out. I began to be -worried, for neither of them had been over the route before. I found -that the train they had named had arrived on time. Either they had not -come or the great city had swallowed them. It was plainly a case where -the telephone became a necessity, but I could not go to the nearest -’phone and call up the friends with whom they had been staying. I had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span> - -to find some proxy who would deliver my message and give me an honest -report. All this was serious business at a time when the papers were -full of stories of abductions and insults to girls. Whom could I trust -in such a situation?</p> - -<p>I looked about, and finally decided to appeal to a man who resembled -a Methodist minister. At least, he wore a black coat, a white tie, -and had adorned his face with a pair of “burnsides.” Also, I caught a -gesture—a spreading out of the hands—which seemed to say: “Bless you, -my children!” So, as an occasional occupant of the pews, I confidently -approached the pulpit.</p> - -<p>“My friend, can I ask you to use the telephone for me?”</p> - -<p>I learned then how slight a contraction of the facial muscles may change -a beneficent smile into a snarl.</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you do it yourself?” I could see the words and the unpleasant -frown. “Are you too lazy?”</p> - -<p>I tried to explain the situation and show him that I could not hear; but -he took no trouble to grasp my predicament. Several women had stopped -to listen, and were smiling. I have learned that no man who wears white -vest and tie can feel that women are laughing at him and retain his -dignity. So my clerical gentleman turned on his heel and walked away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span></p> - -<p>“I have no time to bother!”</p> - -<p>No doubt, he was right. He could preach the Christian religion, but had -no time to practice it. It has always been my blessed privilege to see -the humor of a trying situation. That dignified exit made me think of -the deaf woman who lived in our old town. One day a stranger called, -said he was a retired minister, and asked her to board him a week free -of charge, so that he might “meditate over the follies of human life.” -She refused, and he became quite insistent. He roared in her ear:</p> - -<p>“Be careful, now, lest ye entertain an angel unawares!”</p> - -<p>She was quick to reply:</p> - -<p>“I’m deaf, but I’m reasonably acquainted with the Lord, and I know He -won’t send no angel to my house with a cud of tobacco in his mouth.”</p> - -<p>After failing with the ministry, I approached a man who looked like a -substantial farmer—a man apparently with some sense of humor, though I -judged him to be a bit stubborn.</p> - -<p>“Sir, I need your help. I must find someone to telephone for me. My -sister and daughter are in the country, and—”</p> - -<p>That was as far as I could go with him. He put one hand on his pocket as -if to make sure of his wallet, and waved the other at me.</p> - -<p>“No, you don’t! I’m no ‘come-on.’ None of your bunco games on me. That - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span> - -story is too old; I’ve heard it before. Get out or I’ll call the police!”</p> - -<p>I think the last sermon I ever heard was preached from the text, “And -they all, with one accord, began to make excuses.”</p> - -<p>Unfortunately, the preacher had never been deaf, so he did not develop -all the possibilities of that text. But these rebuffs did not discourage -me; they are only part of the “social service” which the deaf must -expect. These men merely lacked the imagination needed to show them -the pleasure which would surely come from doing a kindly act. They had -declined opportunity.</p> - -<p>Near the station was a saloon. It was a warm night, and the door was -open. I had just been offered the nomination for Congress on the -Prohibition ticket in my home district. Of course, a Prohibition -statesman has no business inside a saloon; but I paused at the door -and looked in. A pleasant-faced, red-haired Irishman stood behind the -bar, serving a glass of beer to a customer. I have always believed in -experimenting with extremes. By hitting both ends one generally finds a -soft spot at the middle. I was on a desperate quest, and, having been -rejected by the pulpit and the plow, I was willing to approach the bar. -So I entered the “unholy place.” The bartender ran an appraising eye -over me, and like a good salesman asked:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span></p> - -<p>“What’ll it be—a beer? Or you likely need some of the hard stuff to -brace you up?”</p> - -<p>“No; I want to find an honest man who will telephone for me. I cannot -hear well, and I must have help. Can you do it?”</p> - -<p>“Sure I can, me friend, sure! ’Tis me job to serve the people. I’m very -sorry for ye, and ye can borry me ears and welcome. Here, Mike! You run -the bar while I help this gentleman find his friends.”</p> - -<p>And he did the job well. I wrote out my message and he went into the -booth with it. Through the glass I saw him nodding his head and waving -his hands in explanation. He came out all smiles.</p> - -<p>“Sure, and it’s all right. They missed the train through stopping too -long to eat. They’re on their way now safe and sound, and happy as -larks—and due in half an hour. They’d have let ye know, but couldn’t -tell where to reach ye!”</p> - -<p>And he would have nothing but the regular toll for the service. But he -put his hand on my shoulder and said:</p> - -<p>“Happy to meet ye. It’s a pleasure to serve such as ye. Come, now, and -<em>have something</em> on me!”</p> - -<p>And right there I came as near accepting a drink as I ever did in my -life. But there is one thing I <em>did</em> do. I declined the honor of running -for Congress on the Prohibition ticket after receiving that kindly -Christian service from a saloonkeeper.</p> - -<p>I told this story to a missionary who had spent much of his life among - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 173]</span> - -rough-and-ready customers. His comment was:</p> - -<p>“Many a hog will put on a white necktie, and many a saint will wear a -flannel shirt, and one not overly clean at that. The best judge of a -necktie is the hangman, and the final judgment over the boiled shirt is -made at the washtub. He who sells beer brewed in charity is a better man -than he who delivers sermons stuffed with cant and selfishness.”</p> - -<p>I presume he is right, but how can a deaf man distinguish the virtues -and vices of the dispenser of selfish sermons from those of the -dispenser of charitable beer—when he cannot hear the sermons and -declines to taste the beer? However, since that night I have not been -able to trust the combination of white vest and necktie and a taste for -“burnsides.”</p> - -<p>My experience with this variety of costume had begun years before, -when I happened to be a receptive candidate for Governor of New Jersey -on this same Prohibition ticket. My boom never developed beyond that -receptive stage, but I started for the convention feeling well disposed -toward myself—as I presume all candidates do. At Trenton I had -to hunt for the convention hall, and, as usual, tried to select the -proper guide from his appearance. On a street corner stood a portly, -well-filled gentleman, wearing a suit of solemn black, with a beard to -match; also there was the white necktie and the voluminous white vest. -In truth, he was a prosperous grocer come to town to marry his third - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 174]</span> - -wife, but to me he looked like the chairman of the coming convention.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me where the convention is to be held?”</p> - -<p>“What convention?”</p> - -<p>“Why, the State Prohibition convention. I thought you were a brother -delegate.”</p> - -<p>“Brother nothing.”</p> - -<p>“But where is it to be held?”</p> - -<p>He muttered something that was lost in that black beard. I could not get -it, and finally held out my notebook and pencil. He stared at me for a -moment, and then wrote—about as he would enter an order of salt fish -for Mrs. Brown:</p> - -<p>“The Lord knows. I don’t.”</p> - -<p>It was a shock to my boom, the first of many it received that day. For a -moment depression came over me. Then philosophy came to my aid and gave -me the proper answer.</p> - -<p>“Well, if the Lord really knows, I guess it doesn’t make so much -difference whether you do or not! It is better to trust in the Lord.”</p> - -<p>I left him staring after me. It is doubtful if he ever got the full -sense of the incident, but I have always remembered it.</p> - -<p>It is one of my landmarks along the road to silence. For if the Lord -designs that the deaf man shall reach the convention, all the powers -of prejudice and selfishness cannot keep him away. I finally found a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 175]</span> - -bootblack who gave me the proper directions.</p> - -<p>One Winter’s night I found myself in the railroad station of a small -New England town, waiting for a belated train. A blizzard was raging -outside, with the mercury in the thermometer close to zero. My train -was far up in Vermont, four hours behind time, feebly plowing through -snowdrifts. In order to obtain a berth and comfortable passage for New -York on that train it was necessary to ’phone Springfield and have the -agent there catch the train at some stopping place up country to make -arrangements. Perhaps a prudent deaf man should have given up the effort -and remained in that little town overnight. But I have found that the -deaf, even more than others, need the constant stimulus of attempting -the difficult or impossible.</p> - -<p>It was necessary to find some honest proxy at once. The ticket agent had -closed his office and gone home. The array of available talent spread -before me on the seats was not, at first sight, promising. A German -Socialist had fallen asleep after a violent discussion about the war. -There was an Irishman who gave full evidence to at least three senses -that he did not favor prohibition enforcement. A fat, good-natured -looking colored man with a stupid moon face and a receding chin sprawled -over one of the wooden benches. An Italian woman, surrounded by several -great packages, was holding a sleeping child. There were two ladies - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 176]</span> - -of uncertain age, who evidently belonged to that unmistakable class of -society—the New England old maid. At one side, figuring out his day’s -sales of cigars and notions, was a typical Hebrew drummer, a little -rat-faced man with hooked nose, low, receding forehead, and bald head -and beady eyes.</p> - -<p>Now, if you had been the deaf man, forced to depend on one of these -agents to arrange for a sleeping place, which one would you have chosen? -The negro was too stupid, the German too belligerent, the Irishman would -have tried to bully Springfield, and who could think of asking the -stern-faced ladies to discuss such a matter? I selected the drummer as -the most promising material.</p> - -<p>“Sure, I get it,” he said, when I gave him a statement of what I -wanted. He disappeared inside the telephone booth, where I soon saw -him gesticulating and shrugging his shoulders as he talked rapidly. He -looked around at me, and with my slight knowledge of lip-reading, I -could make out:</p> - -<p>“This is a great man what asks this. You must help him out.”</p> - -<p>Soon he came rushing out holding up one finger.</p> - -<p>“It cost you one dollar!”</p> - -<p>I paid him and back he went to his conversation. Before long he emerged -with a paper, on which he had written the name of the car, the number -of my berth, the name of the conductor, and the time of the train’s - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 177]</span> - -arrival. It was all there. How he did it I have never been able to tell. -It was a marvel of speedy, skilful work.</p> - -<p>I seldom find such an efficient proxy, but through long experience one -becomes able to select some stranger with patience enough to attempt -the job. One man who seemed fairly intelligent completely twisted my -message, and put me to no end of trouble. Once a woman deliberately -misrepresented me, but I was saved by a good Samaritan who stood by, -heard part of the discussion, and set me right.</p> - -<p>Sometimes in public places the telephone operator will send the message -and report the answer, but it seems unfair to ask such service. A very -dignified gentleman once asked a stranger to telephone for him, and was -answered thus:</p> - -<p>“Why not go and visit with the ‘hello girl’ over there?”</p> - -<p>Being deaf, he lost one important syllable of the adjective, and -something of his dignity in consequence. Never select a person without -imagination as proxy for the deaf. In the city the colored porters who -are found about public places are usually excellent telephone agents; -colored waiters I have also found good. They are good-natured and -imaginative, usually intelligent, and always wonderfully faithful.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“No Music in Himself”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Music—Beethoven in the Silent World—And Milton—Our -Emotional Desert—Dream Compensation—The “Sings” in the -Old Farmhouse, and the “Rest” for the Weary—The Drunken -Irish Singer in the Barber Shop. -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“The man that hath no music in himself,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds</div> - <div class="verse">Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;</div> - <div class="verse">The motions of his spirit are dull as night,</div> - <div class="verse">And his affections dark as Erebus.</div> - <div class="verse">Let no such man be trusted.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>This passage always reminds me of the colored man who went to church -to hear the new minister’s trial sermon. The preacher was fond of -quotations, and among others he gave an old favorite in new guise:</p> - -<p>“He who steals my purse is po’ white trash!”</p> - -<p>One of the elders of the church immediately jumped up and interrupted:</p> - -<p>“Say, brother, where you done git that idee at?”</p> - -<p>“Dat, sar, am one ob the immortal, thoughtful gems of William -Shakespeare.”</p> - -<p>“Well, sar,” came in rich tones from the gentleman who had come to -criticise the sermon, “my only remark am: <em>Amen, Shakespeare!</em>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 179]</span></p> - -<p>Shakespeare certainly did not have the citizens of the silent world in -mind when he wrote that, but we deaf are often moved to say <em>Amen</em>. -Stratagems are somewhat out of our line, since they require good ears -to carry them through, but otherwise this is a perfect description of -what the lack of music may mean to us. It is our greatest loss. We may -rise in imagination above many deprivations, but we can never forget -the sinister fate which keeps from our ears forever the beauty of the -singing voice and the vibrating string.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.</div> - <div class="verse">To soften rocks or bend the knotted oak.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Probably Congreve was drawing on his imagination entirely, especially -as it is not likely that he ever encountered a genuine savage; but -a deaf man with a natural love for music could have given him full -understanding and appreciation of its mighty power. And, on the other -hand, the silent life becomes drab and cold without the sweet tones of -harmony. In this respect I think the man who was born deaf has less to -regret than he who has known music only to lose it.</p> - -<p>One of the most wretchedly pathetic figures in human history was -Beethoven when he became convinced that he was losing his hearing. He -realized at last that the melodies which meant all of life to him were -passing from him with ever-increasing rapidity. He must have watched - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 180]</span> - -them go as a condemned man might see the sands dropping through the -hourglass. For Beethoven was sadly deficient in the needed equipment -of one who must enter the silent world. He had nothing but his music. -There was no remaining solace. The deaf Beethoven does not present an -heroic picture; he seems like a man cast upon a desert island without -the instinct or the ability to search intelligently for food and water. -There can be nothing more tragic than the fate of such a man thrown into -alien conditions which demand skill and courage of a high order, who yet -stands helpless through grief or terror. Compare Beethoven’s unmitigated -despair with Milton’s heroic serenity:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">“Who best</div> - <div class="verse">Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state</div> - <div class="verse">Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,</div> - <div class="verse">And post o’er land and ocean without rest;</div> - <div class="verse">They also serve who only stand and wait.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>But here we also see something of the different effects upon character -of the two afflictions. The blind are more cheerful than the deaf. Some -of their cheerfulness comes through the ability to hear music; the -courage comes through their inability to <em>see</em> the danger.</p> - -<p>When we deaf are adapting our lives to the inevitable we are surprised -to find the number of new handles life really presents. We have been - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 181]</span> - -forced to look for them, and we can find new interests to give us a -fresh hold upon life. Yet there is nothing we can do, there is no -thought, philosophy or mental training that will ever be anything but a -poor substitute for music.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most peculiar sensation in all our affliction comes when -we sit in a room where skilled musicians are playing, and observe the -effect of sound upon our companions. They are moved to laughter or -tears. Their eyes brighten, their hands are clenched, or are beating -time to the music; their faces flush as waves of emotion sweep over -them. To us it seems most commonplace. We can merely see nimble fingers -dancing over the piano keys or touching the strings of the violin. -Perhaps we see the singer opening and shutting her mouth—much as she -would eat her food—and this is all we know. The mechanical processes -may even be grotesque. So far as any effect upon our emotions may be -considered, the flying fingers might as well be sewing or knitting, the -mouth might be talking the ordinary platitudes of conversation. The -thrill is not for us. Large audiences rise while “America” is being sung -or played—men and women listen with bowed heads. I stand up with them, -but I hear no sound. I feel a thrill—for it is <em>my</em> country, too; yet -can I be blamed for feeling that life has denied me the power to be as -deeply stirred with that great emotion, and has given me no substitute? - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 182]</span> - -The mighty charms which may “soften rocks or bend the knotted oak” are -made powerless by the little bones which have grown together inside my -ear, and they are the smallest bones in the body.</p> - -<p>I have talked with deaf persons about their conception of heaven. What -will be the physical sensation when what we call “life” is finally -stolen away? I have given much thought to that. Most deaf people tell me -without hesitation that, according to their great hope and belief, some -great burst of music will suddenly be borne in upon them when:</p> - -<p class="center topspace1 bottomspace1">“The casement slowly grows a glimmering square.”</p> - -<p>They can conceive of no greater joy or reward; no existence more sublime -than that which is filled with the noblest music.</p> - -<p>Partial compensation for the longing and its denial comes with the music -that we hear in dreams. The brain treasures up the desires of our waking -hours, and attempts to satisfy them during sleep. I knew of a man who -had lived a wild, sunny life in the open air. He was thrown into prison -unjustly, and was held in a dark cell for weeks. He was able to endure -this because, as he said, he had for years “soaked up all possible -sunshine.” The sun’s energy had been “canned in his system,” and it -carried him through his trouble. So may the deaf man be cheered after -he enters the silent world if in his youth he was able to “soak up” his -full share of music. It was my privilege as a boy to serve as “supe” - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 183]</span> - -or stage-hand at a theater, where I heard most of the great operas. -The memory of that music has remained with me all through these long -years. Sometimes I am tempted to sing one of those wonderful songs to my -children. I presume there are few objects more ridiculous to a musician -than a deaf man trying to sing. My people may well smile at my painful -efforts (though the children do not, until they become worldly-wise), -but they will never understand unless they become exiled to the silent -land what such remembered music really means. But I must wait for -dreams, wherein all outside conventions and inhibitions are thrown off, -to give me the perfect rendition of remembered melodies.</p> - -<p>There was an old farmer who used to scold his daughter because she would -spend five dollars of her money for an occasional trip to the city, -where she could hear famous singers.</p> - -<p>“Why,” said he, “what nonsense, what folly to spend five dollars for -only two short hours of pleasure.”</p> - -<p>But he did not realize that the money was paying for a memory which -would remain with the girl all her life. I would, if I could, have a -child soak his soul full of the noblest music that human power can give -him.</p> - -<p>In a fair analysis of the situation even the advantages of being deaf -to music should be stated. I am not asked to listen while little Mary -plays her piece on the piano. No one primes little Tommy to sing “Let - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 184]</span> - -me like a soldier fall” for my benefit. I am not required to render -any opinion regarding the musical ability of those hopefuls. I am told -that such musical criticism has developed some most remarkable liars, -chiefly, I fancy, among the young men who are particularly interested -in little Mary’s older sister. I am also informed that some of the -singing to which you must listen is rather calculated to rouse the -savage breast than to soothe it. Once I spent the night at a country -house where, long after honest people should have been abed, a company -of young men drove out from town to serenade the young lady daughter. I -slept through it all, from “Stars of the Summer Night” to “Good Night, -Ladies!” The father of the serenaded one was a very outspoken business -man, whose word carried far, and he assured me that I was to be envied, -for the “quartette of calves” kept him awake for hours. He wanted -someone to give them more rope. “Why,” said this critical parent, “you -should have heard these softheads sing ‘How Can I Bear to Leave Thee?’ -I tried to make them understand that I could let them leave without -turning a hair.” Hand organs beneath the window, German bands blowing -wind, wandering minstrels of all kinds, may start waves of more or less -harmonious sound afloat, so that my sensitive friends go about with -fingers at their ears, while I have the pleasure of imagining that it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 185]</span> - -is angel music. But at the end of all this satisfactory reasoning I -shrug my shoulders and begin to figure what I would give if I could go -back through the years to one of the old “sings” in my uncle’s kitchen. -How I should like to bring back the night when the stranger from Boston -sang “Jesus, Lover of My Soul” to that beautiful air from “Norma.”</p> - -<p>However, if I could have my choice tonight of all the music I have ever -heard, I should go back to that lonely farmhouse beside the marsh. The -neighbors have come over the hill for a Sunday night “sing.” No lamps -are needed, for there is a fine blaze in the fireplace. There is snow -outside, and creepy, crackling sounds from the frost are in the timbers; -the moonlight sparkles over all. One of the girls sits at the little -melodeon. I’d give—well, what <em>can</em> a man give—to hear old Uncle -Dwelly Baker sing “Rest for the Weary.” I can see him now sitting in -the big rocking-chair by the window. How his bald head and his white -whiskers shine in the moonlight! His eyes are shut, his spectacles have -been pushed to the top of his head. He rocks and rocks, singing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“On the other side of Jordan,</div> - <div class="verse">In the sweet fields of Eden,</div> - <div class="verse">Where the tree of Life is blooming,</div> - <div class="verse">There is rest for you.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>And here we all come in on the chorus:</p> - -<div class="blockindent-poem"> -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“There is rest for the weary,</div> - <div class="verse">There is rest for the weary,</div> - <div class="verse">There is rest for the weary,</div> - <div class="verse">There is rest for you!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 186]</span></p> - -<p>My reason for choosing this above all other music is that these people -in their dull, hard life were really weary, and they really found rest -in this song.</p> - -<p>Some years ago I went for a shave into a barber shop of a New England -city. I was to deliver an address, and somehow I have found nothing -more soothing to the nerves than to sink down into a chair while the -barber rubs in the lather and then scrapes it off. All this, of course, -is conditioned upon the sharpness of the razor and my inability to hear -the barber’s questions. I have often wondered if imaginative barbers -ever feel a desire to seize the victim by the throat and use the razor -like a carving-knife. Several of them have looked at me as though they -would enjoy doing this, and the thought has actually driven me to a -safety razor. But, at any rate, shortly before this speech was due I -went in for my shave. At that time I carried an electric instrument, a -sort of personal telephone, which enabled me to hear at least part of -conversations. It contained a small battery, a sound magnifier and an -ear piece. I hung this on a nail, threw my overcoat and hat over it, and -sat down for my shave when the boss barber motioned “next.”</p> - -<p>I think I must have drifted away in a half-dream while the barber went - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 187]</span> - -over one side of my face. He was just brushing in the hot lather on the -other side when I suddenly became aware of a great commotion in the -shop. I straightened up with one side of my face well lathered, to find -a “spirit hunt” in progress. The barber stood with his brush in one -hand and an open razor in the other. Several men had armed themselves -with canes and umbrellas. A fierce-looking Irishman with a club was -stealthily approaching my overcoat as it hung on the nail. He raised -his club to strike a heavy blow. I jumped out of that chair as I fancy -a person would leave the electric chair if he were suddenly freed. I -caught him by the arm.</p> - -<p>“What are you spoiling my overcoat for?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a spirit. The devil himself. Hear him holler in there! Hark at -him! Do ye not hear thim groans?”</p> - -<p>Then it suddenly came to me what the “spirit” was. I had put my -“acousticon” or electric hearing device into its case without shutting -off the electric current. It was really a small telephone, and while -the current is on, the sound magnifier gathers the sounds in a room and -throws them out in a series of whistles, groanings and roarings. The -Irishman and his friends had finally located the “spirit” emitting these -noises under my coat, where it certainly was hiding.</p> - -<p>With the coating of lather still on my face, I took the coat down - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 188]</span> - -and explained the instrument. The men listened like children as I -switched the current on and off, explained the dry cell battery, the ear -piece and the receiver. I let them try it at the ear until they were -satisfied—all but the Irishman. He looked at the machine for a moment -and then glanced at me and raised his voice:</p> - -<p>“Ye poor thing; ye don’t hear nothin’, do ye?”</p> - -<p>“Not much. I have the advantage of you, for you must listen to -everybody. I don’t have to. I am sure you have heard things today you -were sorry to hear.”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t that right now? But don’t nobody ever come and bawl ye out?”</p> - -<p>“No; not even my wife, for, you see, her throat would give out before my -ears would give in. Bawling out a deaf man is no joke for the bawler!”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s good to be delivered from the women; they have tongues like -a fish-hook, ’tis true. But don’t ye hear no good music?”</p> - -<p>“No; I have not heard natural music for years; the little that comes to -me seems to have some tin-pan drumming in it.”</p> - -<p>“But, say, mister, don’t ye hear no good music in your dreams? I ask ye -that now—as man to man. Have ye no singing dreams?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is the strangest part of it. While I am asleep music often -comes to me, such music as, I am sure, mortal rarely hears. It seems to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 189]</span> - -me like music far beyond this world.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, but don’t ye hate to wake up and leave that music behind ye? Don’t -ye hate to come back to life, where ye hear no sound? Ain’t it terrible -to think God has forsaken ye by shutting out music? Wouldn’t ye rather -be dead when ye might sleep forever with music in your ears?”</p> - -<p>“No; for God has not forsaken me. I have my work to do in the world, and -I must do it. I will not run away from a thing like this. I will rise -above it. You see, I have friends. You are interested, and I know you -would help me if I needed help.”</p> - -<p>“Would I not, now? Just put that tail-piece to your ear.”</p> - -<p>I hesitated for a moment, but he repeated, sternly:</p> - -<p>“Put that tail-piece to your ear and let on the juice again right away.”</p> - -<p>With the cold lather still on my face, I put up the ear piece and turned -on the current. Then a beautiful thing happened. My Irish friend took -off his hat, put his mouth close to my receiver, and began to sing. He -had a beautiful tenor voice, and it came to me sweet and clear, while -the barber and the others gathered to listen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 190]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Kathleen mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.</div> - <div class="verse">The lark from her gray wing the bright dew is shaking—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh, Kathleen mavourneen,—what? lingering still?</div> - <div class="verse">Oh, hast thou forgotten, this day we must sever,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh, hast thou forgotten, this day we must part?”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>He sang it through—the sad, hopeless longing of a weary heart. “<i>It -may be for years, and it may be forever.</i>” I glanced at the barber, and -saw him still with the open razor and the brush in his hands, while the -others stood about with heads bowed as they listened. And at the end of -the song my friend started another:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Come back to Erin, mavourneen, mavourneen,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Come back, Aroon, to the land of thy birth.</div> - <div class="verse">Come with the shamrocks of springtime, mavourneen,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And its Killarney shall ring with thy mirth!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>I have often thought that to another deaf man we would have presented a -most ridiculous spectacle. By this time I had discovered that my musical -friend was by no means a prohibitionist; the breath which carried the -sweet sound had a flavor all its own. He had been tarrying with other -spirits besides the collection under my overcoat. I, still with the -thick smear of lather, diligently held the “tail-piece” to my ear; -the barber was scowling to hide his emotion, and with the open razor -he looked like a pirate. Yet I think there has never been such music -since the glorious night long ago when the angels’ song was heard by -men. You will smile at the extravagant language of a deaf man who has - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 191]</span> - -no other music for comparison. Yet I think you never heard anything -like this. No doubt you have listened at the opera or at church while -some golden-voiced singer poured out marvelous melody. Ah, it could not -compare With the soft, tender voice which came to my dull ears in that -dim-lighted barber shop. For this man out of the troubles of his own -life put all the sorrow, all the yearning, all the tender hopelessness -of an imaginative race into its native songs. And with this came the -glow of feeling that he was doing a kindly deed for an unfortunate -person.</p> - -<p>As he sang I saw it all; the sunshine splintering on the white cliffs, -the sparkle of the little streams, the grassy meadows, the heavenly blue -sky over all. And there was the heavy, muttering ocean with the glitter -of the sun on its face. I thought of the thousands who had bravely -passed over it seeking a distant home, but loyal in their hearts to the -old green hills.</p> - -<p class="center topspace1 bottomspace1">“Come back to Erin, mavourneen, mavourneen!”</p> - -<p>We were carried back, and for the moment all the troubles and -afflictions were forgotten. I saw tears in the eyes of the barber. The -others shuffled their feet, and one found it necessary to blow his nose. -And then—the song ended, and I was back on earth with only the old -dull roaring in my ears, and a mass of lather on my face. I thought the -Irishman turned sadly away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 192]</span></p> - -<p>“I cannot tell you, my friend, how much that means to me. It seems to me -the most beautiful human music I ever heard. What can I do to repay you?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing—it was only a neighborly deed, what any man should do with his -poor gift. You cannot pay me. ’Tis only from love of the music and of -helping that I did it.”</p> - -<p>“But who are you—with such a voice?”</p> - -<p>“I’m a poor Irishman, half-drunk now, ye see. I cannot sing without -whiskey. I make me living at vaudeville, and the movies is bad for the -business. I sing funny songs—some of them nasty. I know it’s a bad -living, but sometimes, like now, I love the best old songs. But on the -stage—” He shrugged.</p> - -<p>“But tonight, instead of singing your comic songs, go on the stage and -sing as you have done for me. It would be wonderful.”</p> - -<p>“No, they’d get a hook and pull me off. You don’t understand. The people -who come to hear me have got to laugh or die. Their lives are too hard. -They must laugh and forget it. Make them <em>think</em> and cry and they would -go crazy. That is where you folks go wrong on us. You say to <em>think</em> -and work out of our troubles—but sorrow is always with us, and we must -laugh or we shall drink and die.”</p> - -<p>Then came the reception committee on the run for me, for my time on the -program had come and the speaker who was to hold the stage until I came - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 193]</span> - -had already repeated part of his speech three times. The barber finished -shaving me, and I went my way; but I shall always remember my Irish -singer and his philosophy.</p> - -<p>“<i>A man in trouble must either laugh or die.</i>”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">Silence Not Always Golden</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35"> -Looking Wise and Saying Nothing—Passing Encouragement -Around—The Critic and the Short Skirts—The “Lion” and -the Honest Deaf Man—How Reputation and the Deaf Man -Overtook the Hon. Robt. Grey—The Simultaneous Blessings -at the Dinner-table—Jealousy and Mrs. Brewster. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">It has been said of a Cape Cod man that if he will tell where he comes -from, <em>look wise</em> and say nothing, he will pass as a person of fine -intellect. Much the same is true of the deaf man. He is too apt to talk -all the time, or else to say nothing—and sometimes he does both at -once. Many of us betray the shoals of our mind and our shallow waters of -thought by talking too much. The Yankee is naturally inquisitive. He has -injured his position in history by asking too many useless questions. -Unfortunately, this is also the failing of too many of the deaf. Instead -of realizing that the choicest bits of conversation are reserved for -them, they persist in trying to borrow the dross. Cardinal Wolsey’s -outburst of bitter self-reproach would be a valuable memory gem for us:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“I charge thee, fling away ambition.</div> - <div class="verse">By that crime fell the angels.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 195]</span></p> - -<p>Here we must part with the foolish ambition to deal in small talk. The -surest way for us to become social nuisances is constantly to demand the -details of current conversation, and some of our worst embarrassments -come when some well-meaning, loud-voiced person diligently relays to us -the trivial remarks. For be it known that the bubbles of words which -work up from the feeble fermenting of shallow thoughts are usually stale -and unprofitable. And many a deaf person has passed an hour of agony in -company smiling and pretending to enjoy conversation which might as well -be carried on in Europe, as far as his understanding goes. A student of -lip-reading can find much amusing practice in such situations, but it -is far better for the rest of us to say frankly that we cannot hear the -talk, and then retire from the field with a book.</p> - -<p>Every deaf person who possesses even a trace of humor can tell how -he or she has passed as an important personage by looking wise and -saying nothing. On several occasions I have played the part of -intelligent critic with some success. I can sit on the front seat at -a lecture or a concert, look intently at the speaker or singer, smile -and frown at the right places in the program, and make an effort to -look wise. The performer soon comes to think that he has at least one -very keen and appreciative listener, and soon he aims the best points -at me. Of course, we all know how the heart and spirit glow in the -face of evident appreciation. I do not hear a sound, but I present - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 196]</span> - -the appearance of the mighty rock in the weary land of inattentive -listeners. I have even had the susceptible artist hunt me out -afterwards, evidently seeking some delicate compliment—for who is proof -against such desires? However, I keep out of the way, for it would never -do for him to find that the appreciative hearer is a deaf man. A friend -of mine, working on the same principle of passing encouragement around, -keeps an eye open for deaf men or those who seem discouraged, and when -he meets some one who seems to be losing his grip, he gives a military -salute. When his children criticise such a performance, he says:</p> - -<p>“Why not? It makes him feel good. It inoculates his pride. He goes on -his way thinking that perhaps after all he may be somebody, since that -‘distinguished-looking man’ recognized him!”</p> - -<p>There is a sorry old joke that I have played repeatedly on vain or -inquisitive people. I worked it off on my friend, Brown, three times -running. Brown is the type of fellow who is much in love with his own -voice. They tell me that he can deliver a fair speech, but that he -spoils the effect by making it quite evident that he is casting pearls, -and that lack of proper appreciation classes the audience with a -well-known suggestion of the New Testament. I have never heard Brown’s -words, but his actions speak loudly to a deaf man. So I wait until he - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 197]</span> - -begins to describe some oratorical triumph and then start on him.</p> - -<p>“Great! I know a man down town who would gladly pay five hundred dollars -to hear you speak. Thus far he has not been able to hear you.”</p> - -<p>Brown absorbs the compliment with the air of a man well accustomed to -such little tributes. But I know how his mind is working, and, sure -enough, soon he rises to the bait.</p> - -<p>“By the way, what did you say about that man who is anxious to hear me -speak?”</p> - -<p>“I said that there is a very intelligent man down town who says he would -give five hundred dollars to hear you speak. Thus far he has been denied -that privilege, but I think he means what he says.”</p> - -<p>“That’s good! No doubt some one who has heard me has told him about it. -I expect to speak at a banquet next week. Perhaps we could have this man -invited. I should be glad to give him pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly would give him great pleasure. I am sure he would travel -far to get within sound of your voice.”</p> - -<p>“By the way, I do not recall that you mentioned the name of this -gentleman.”</p> - -<p>“<i>He is a deaf man. He has not heard a sound for years! I know he would -give five hundred dollars to be able to hear you.</i>”</p> - -<p>And then Brown refuses to speak to me for a month. He has no use for -these “funny men.” His vanity finally gets the best of him, however, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 198]</span> - -and a little later he “falls” for the same story with variations. You -can tell him of the man who would willingly give a thousand dollars -to see the great orator. Of course, he is blind. Then there is the -enthusiastic citizen who would gladly run a mile in order to join the -audience. He is a cripple with only one leg. Of course, these are -worn, old jokes, but the deaf man may be pardoned for indulging in the -old-timers if they help to offset some of his own blunders and mishaps.</p> - -<p>Let it be known, however, that we deaf never shine as critics where our -opinions will have weight. Some men, naturally strong and dominant, -reach high positions, where they have power over others, and they become -hard taskmasters because through their inability to hear they make too -many snap judgments and become too critical. They may be efficient, but -frequently it is a raw and brutal efficiency which accomplishes little -good. One very deaf man was invited to a meeting of a literary society -in a Western town. It seemed to be the only entertainment in town that -night, and though it was obviously no place for a deaf man, he went -along with his friends. We know how to amuse ourselves at such places. -We may not hear a word, but the mind can be kept active with some detail -of business, or a review or something we have read. This man applauded -and smiled with the rest. It is often a foolish performance, but we - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 199]</span> - -invariably fall into it. By assuming a serious expression of countenance -whenever it was apparent that the program called for thought, this -man found himself being accepted as a wise critic. One young woman -was determined to attract the attention of the distinguished-looking -stranger. She read her essay with one eye on him, and he did his best to -look appreciative. When the literary exercises were over the chairman -called various leading citizens to discuss the meeting and criticise -the various performances. The young woman was anxious to hear a word -of praise from the visitor. So, at her suggestion, the president wrote -a note and passed it to the deaf man—a note suggesting that he give a -truthful criticism of at least one number. This fishing for compliments -is like other forms of angling; you never know what you are going to -catch. My friend protested and tried to explain, but there was no -escape. Being a man of some determination, and, moreover, with severe -old-fashioned ideas, he stood up and delivered his criticism:</p> - -<p>“My friends, I am no critic. Nature has made it necessary for me to -hear with my eyes, and I can offer but one suggestion. I may be wrong. -Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but it seems to me that if I had to walk -through life on such a pair of pipestems as I have seen tonight, they -would be the last thing in the world that I would take pride in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 200]</span> - -exhibiting. I’d wear a dress that would sweep the floor.”</p> - -<p>The company reserved their laughter until they were safe at home, but -with one accord everyone glanced at the short skirt of the literary -young woman. It is safe to say that she never again suggested an unknown -deaf man as critic of her literary efforts.</p> - -<p>Sometimes the deaf go fishing for compliments themselves, with very -disastrous results. We may wisely conclude that few bouquets will be -thrown in our direction. Even those which reach us may contain some -kind of hook concealed amid the flowers. Yet there was Henry Bascom, -very deaf, very vain, and filled with the almost criminal idea that he -could write poetry. He refused to work at his trade, for he felt that -his muse did not care to brush her skirts against overalls or working -clothes. His brother-in-law, a blunt, outspoken man, was growing weary -of “feeding lazy poets.” Once he roared out a protest, but Henry did -not get it straight, and hoped it was some sort of compliment. So he -insisted that his sister repeat it. But she hesitated. Finally she -temporized:</p> - -<p>“George merely said something about the great need of energy in the -world.”</p> - -<p>Of course, Henry should have known that there was explosive material -hidden in all this, but he only decided that something fine was being -kept away from him. So when George came home he began again:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 201]</span></p> - -<p>“George, I was much interested in what you said this morning. Won’t you -repeat it so that I can have it exact?”</p> - -<p>And George very willingly complied. He wrote the message carefully in -ink:</p> - -<p>“<i>I told Mary that if you belonged to me I would make you work even if -you bust a gut!</i>”</p> - -<p>Investigation will destroy illusion nine times out of ten. If you think -your friends are saying nice things about you, let it go at that. Take -my advice and let analysis of such doubtful remarks alone. Eight times -out of ten, for the deaf, it will lead to an explosion.</p> - -<p>And there was the deaf man who went to the reception with his wife and -daughter. Some remarkable literary lion had come to town, and the elite -had turned out to see him feed and hear him roar, if he could be induced -to perform. The deaf man, at his distance, watched the lion carefully -and felt that here was a kindred spirit. For back of the stereotyped -smile and the smug mask of conventionality there was another person, a -real human being, who had grown weary of the foolishness, and was eager -to get back into the wilderness, where outsiders, like the deaf and the -uncelebrated, may have their fling.</p> - -<p>But the women continued to parade themselves and their ideas before the -celebrity with an ostentation that was quite enough to rouse the ire of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 202]</span> - -a sensible dweller in the silence. This man held in as long as he could, -and then remarked to his wife in what he thought was a whisper:</p> - -<p>“Those silly girls make me very tired.”</p> - -<p>The entire company heard him, and the wife and daughter were deeply -mortified. They did manage to cut off the rest of his remarks, and -finally, exceedingly conscious that he had made a bad blunder, the deaf -man retreated to the porch to look at the stars. They are old friends -who never find fault when one stumbles over some woman-made rule of -society. And there came the lion, broken away temporarily from his -keepers, fumigating with a cigar some of the thoughts which his admirers -had aroused. He went straight to the deaf man and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>“My friend, you are the only honest man in this house. The <em>rest</em> of us -are tired, but we lack the courage to admit it in public. How do you -come to be so brave?”</p> - -<p>Another deaf man went back to his old town after fifteen years’ absence. -They were about to hold a political convention to nominate a candidate -for Congress. The Hon. Robert Grey controlled most of the delegates. -No one in particular was enthusiastic about the Hon. Robert excepting -himself and his close friends, yet no one could quite summon the courage -to tell the truth about him. The deaf man arrived, and saw a large, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 203]</span> - -black-haired man dominating the stage.</p> - -<p>“Why,” he said, in what he intended to be a subdued tone, “there is Bob -Gray. He’s the man who stole the town funds while he was treasurer. -What’s he doing here? He should be in jail!”</p> - -<p>He had not gauged his voice correctly, and half the people in the hall -heard him. It was just what the rest had lacked the courage to say. The -deaf man, with his simplicity and directness, had penetrated into the -hiding place of the big issue of the campaign. His remark changed the -entire spirit of the convention, and the Hon. Robert Grey was left at -home.</p> - -<p>The deaf man is often laughed at for his blunders, but, unwittingly, -he has pricked many a bubble and exposed many a fraud through his -blunderings. Take the case of the young man who fancied the minister’s -daughter and went to church with her. The congregation was small, -and the collections were generally in line with the congregation. -The collector was a deaf man, a faithful attendant, who, as he said, -could not even hear the money drop into the box. Our young man took a -five-dollar gold piece out of his pocket and held it up so that the -minister’s daughter could see it and observe his great liberality. She -protested in a whisper:</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s too much! I wouldn’t give that amount.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s nothing. My usual habit is to give ten dollars, but I don’t -happen to have such a coin with me today.”</p> - -<p>So the bluffer waved her away, and really would have been able to -“get away with it” had it not been for the deaf man. When the box was -presented the young man deftly palmed his gold piece and dropped a penny -into the box. The organist played on through the offertory, and the deaf -man marched up the aisle with his contributions. The minister had tried -to tell him several times that it was not in good taste to report the -size of the contributions publicly, but the deaf man was a zealous soul, -and did not quite understand, so he carefully counted the amount found -in the box, and, just before the last hymn, he stood up in front of the -pulpit.</p> - -<p>“My friends, I want to announce that the contributions for the day -amount to $3.27. ‘The Lord loveth a cheerful giver.’”</p> - -<p>And the minister’s daughter, being rather good at mental arithmetic, -glanced at the young man, and fully understood.</p> - -<p>Dr. A. W. Jackson tells a story which all deaf men will appreciate. He -was invited to preach the sermon in a country church, and after the -service he was taken for dinner to Deacon Bentley’s house. There was a -great family gathering, and the long table was spread in the kitchen. -The deacon sat at one end, the minister at the other. Naturally, the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 205]</span> - -minister expected to be asked to say the “grace,” so he prepared his -mind for it. We deaf demand a “sign” for such invitations, and Dr. -Jackson thought he had one when the deacon, far down the room, seemed -to nod his head as at a suggestion. So the preacher shut his eyes, bent -down his head and blessed the food with a long and fervent prayer. He -knew something was wrong, for he felt the table shaking, but he went -serenely on until he finished with a devout “amen.” How are we to -know what really happens at such times until we get home, where our -faithful reporter can tell us about it? Dr. Jackson did not in the -least understand until his wife explained that Deacon Bentley had not -given the expected sign, and, being deaf himself, he had bowed his own -head and said a rival blessing. Probably the spectacle of the two deaf -men offering simultaneous petitions blessed all who were present with -abundant appetite.</p> - -<p>This was indeed ridiculous, but, no doubt, you have seen normal men -acting in much the same way, foolishly interfering with the jobs or -prerogatives of others when they know full well they have no business -out of their own corners. It is like the group of men I saw at a -country railway station trying to turn a locomotive on an old-fashioned -turntable. The engineer had run his machine on to the table, and though -the men were pushing on the lever with all their might, they could not -move the engine. Finally the engineer backed her about two feet. The - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 206]</span> - -weight was then so nicely adjusted that a single man turned the table -with ease. At first there had been a poor adjustment. The men were -trying to lift the entire weight; when it became nicely balanced the -engine nearly turned itself. I think most men at some period of their -lives get out of their own corners to show others how the job of life -should be worked out. They throw the machinery out of balance and double -the world’s work.</p> - -<p>Years ago, when I worked as a hired man in a back-country neighborhood, -I belonged to a debating society. I was on the program committee, and we -found something of a task in selecting subjects for debate which were -within the life and thought of our audience. “Resolved, that the mop is -a more useful element in civilization than the dishcloth” was a prime -favorite with the women. “Resolved, that for a man starting on a farm a -cow is more useful than a woman” brought out great argumentative effort -from the men, and as I recall it, the cow won on the statement that if -crops failed and you could not pay the mortgage, you could sell the cow. -If I were back there now, knowing what I do of life, I should suggest a -new topic: “Resolved, that deafness is a greater affliction to a woman -than to a man.” Here is fine opportunity for argument. The man is shut -out of many lines of bread-winning, while the woman is denied the right - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 207]</span> - -to indulge largely in small talk and gossip.</p> - -<p>I think deaf women are more likely than men to be exceedingly jealous. -Mrs. Helen Brewster was deaf, and she made life a burden to her husband, -Frank. He was really one of the most circumspect of men, but if he -stopped for a moment to talk with Miss Kempton, the sixty-year-old -dressmaker, poor Helen was quick to imagine him taking advantage of her -affliction to exchange nonsense with the other ladies. And right here -let me say to the deaf and the near-deaf: force yourselves to believe -that your friends, and particularly the members of your family, are -absolutely true; do not ever permit your mind to suggest that those -upon whom you must rely for help or interpretation are unfaithful. -Never admit this until you cannot escape the conviction. Remember -that most persons we meet are kindly and well disposed, if selfish -and thoughtless. They are not plotting our destruction or even our -unhappiness. It is too easy for the deaf to turn life into a veritable -hell by permitting the hideous devils of depression to master the brain.</p> - -<p>Now, Helen Brewster was jealous without reason, and perhaps the -unreasonable phase of that disease runs its most violent course. The -Brewsters lived on the ground floor of an old-fashioned town house. In -the family living on the upper floor was a daughter, Mary Crimmins, who -caused Helen’s worst paroxysms. In Winter, after an unusually hard - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 208]</span> - -storm, the old roof was endangered by its load of snow. Mary Crimmins -called from her window to Frank as the only man then in the house to -mount the roof and shovel away the snow. And Helen, washing dinner -dishes at the sink, saw the two talking, Frank looking up and smiling, -and immediately concluded that the topic was much warmer than snow. -Frank got a ladder and a shovel, and mounted to the roof, while poor -Helen sat in the sitting-room bathing her soul in misery, for while -men do not usually present a ladder when planning an elopement in -broad daylight, all things were possible to her distorted mind. Soon -there came a small avalanche of snow from the roof, but the distracted -deaf woman did not hear it. Then her son came rushing into the room, -screaming with such breath as was left in him:</p> - -<p>“Oh, ma! It’s terrible!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p>“The snow all slipped and knocked the ladder down, and pa—”</p> - -<p>“What about pa?”</p> - -<p>“He’s up there hugging—”</p> - -<p>Johnnie really finished his sentence, but the words “pa” and “hugging” -were enough for Helen.</p> - -<p>“He is, is he? I’ll attend to him!” And she rushed upstairs and knocked -loudly at the door; then, without waiting for any invitation, she strode -in. Old Mrs. Crimmins sat knitting by the window, while in a corner - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 209]</span> - -behind her sat Mary with a stranger, a fine-looking young man. Before -the irate deaf woman could properly unload her mind, Mary blushing red, -came and screamed in her neighbor’s ear:</p> - -<p>“This is my fiance, Henry Jordon. We meant to keep it secret, and you -are the first one I’ve told. I know you won’t repeat it.”</p> - -<p>“But where’s Frank?” the astonished Helen at last managed to say. -Johnnie had followed her upstairs, and he was well drilled in handling -the deaf. So he caught hold of his mother’s dress and pulled her to the -door.</p> - -<p>“Come and <em>see</em>, ma,” he cried.</p> - -<p>He led her downstairs, out into the snow and pointed. And there was pa. -The snow had slipped beneath his feet, and carried him to the very edge -of the roof. He had saved himself only by catching at the chimney. There -he stood, with both hands clasped about it, “hugging” literally for dear -life.</p> - -<p>It was a very silent and thoughtful deaf woman who raised the ladder -and gave her husband a chance to discontinue his attention to the -chimney. And that is about the way nine-tenths of our imaginary -troubles terminate. It never did pay to hug a rumor or a delusion -too strenuously. Better conserve your strength for something more -substantial.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">Cases of Mistaken Identity</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Traveling for the Deaf—When the Deaf Man Saved a Leg -for Someone Else—The Cornetist Who Couldn’t Play a -Note—When the Deaf Meet the Drunk. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Some deaf persons make the mistake of concluding that the affliction -chains them at home and that they should not attempt to travel. This is -wrong, for they thus lose many extraordinary adventures. It is better -for us to get about if possible, and to take our chances with the world. -I travel about as freely as any man with perfect ears might do, and -thus see much of human nature which would otherwise be lost to me. No -adventures are more amusing or exciting than those which start with -mistaken identity. I have come to think that in the molding or shaping -of humanity comparatively few patterns are really used, judging from the -number of times that I and other deaf men have been mistaken for strange -persons in the mental shuffle of ordinary minds. The man with good ears -can usually explain at once, but we do not always understand, and we are -led into embarrassing situations.</p> - -<p>Once years ago I went to the country to spend the night with an old -friend. It was dark when we reached the little town where I was to meet - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 211]</span> - -“an elderly man with a gray beard,” who would drive me to the farm. We -deaf are careful to have all such arrangements understood beforehand. -It was a black, gloomy night, and there were no lights at the little -station except the lanterns carried by the agent and a few farmers. The -deaf man is at his worst in darkness. It holds unimaginable terrors for -him. Perhaps I should say perplexities, for the deaf are rarely afraid.</p> - -<p>Most of us do more or less lip-reading, whether we make a study of the -science or not, and through long habit we come to make use of the eyes -without realizing how largely our lives must depend upon light. Thus, -when suddenly plunged into darkness, we are lost. I carried in my hand a -small black case containing the electric instrument which I used as an -aid to hearing, and this proved my undoing. Such a case may be accepted -as professional evidence; it may contain only a lunch or your laundry, -but lawyers and physicians also carry similar ones. As I stood looking -about in the dim light an elderly man with a short beard stepped up and -held his lantern so as to view my face. I saw his lips frame the words:</p> - -<p class="large">“Come on; hurry! We are all waiting.”</p> - -<p>I supposed he referred to supper, for I knew my friend had a very -orderly and precise wife, who is a little deaf. One must be promptly on -time in keeping appointments with such a character. The old man caught - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 212]</span> - -me by the arm, hurried me to a carriage, and fairly bundled me into it. -He paid no attention to my questions, but jumped into the front seat and -urged on the horse to full speed. The lantern swinging from the front -axle went out as we bumped off into the darkness over mud holes and ruts -without number. I tried to get my electric device into operation, but -the plug had dropped out of place and I could not make connections. So -on we plunged. Soon I found that the old man in front was nearly as deaf -as I. The combination of two deaf men in the darkness rushing through -what was to one of them an absolutely unknown country should have been -thrilling, but the deaf man rarely experiences a thrill; he must wait -for some one to tell him what it is all about. As usual, my mind worked -back for some comparative incident.</p> - -<p>I remembered two. The year before I had gone to Canada during the -Winter. A farmer met me at the station after dark. It was very cold, and -the body of a closed carriage which had been put on runners was filled -with straw. This made a warm, comfortable nest, and the farmer got in -with me, while his son sat up in front to drive. The same plug to my -hearing device had dropped out, and in order to give me a light for -finding it, my host struck a match. He held it too long and it burned -his fingers. Then it fell into the straw and started a great blaze. No - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 213]</span> - -two men ever showed greater activity than we did as we plunged out of -that carriage and threw in snow until the fire was extinguished. That -scene came to my mind, and then followed the story by Ian Maclaren of -the great surgeon who came up from London to perform an operation, and -was carried off into the wilderness against his will by the local doctor.</p> - -<p>We drove several miles, it seemed to me, and then suddenly turned into -the yard of a farmhouse. I felt the carriage shudder as the wheel grazed -the stone gatepost. The door opened and a long splinter of light darted -out upon us. Two women hurried down the walk and helped me out of the -carriage. They were strangers to me, and now I was sure that I was in -the midst of an exciting adventure, not at the home of my friend. The -women escorted me to the house, where I found two solemn-faced gentlemen -evidently waiting for me. One of them held up a finger and beckoned me -into an adjoining room, where upon a bed lay a man who glared at me with -no agreeable face. By this time I had my “acousticon” in working order, -and as this man evidently had something to say, I held the mouthpiece -down to him and heard him shout:</p> - -<p>“<em>I tell you I won’t have it cut off!</em>”</p> - -<p>The two men who had brought me in were very much startled when the exact -contents of my black case was revealed. They glanced at each other and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 214]</span> - -then promptly escorted me out of the room. We went into the kitchen, -and there, beside the stove, the mystery was explained. One of the men -looked curiously at me and then asked:</p> - -<p>“Are you not Dr. Newton of New York?”</p> - -<p>I hastened to explain that I had never before heard of Dr. Newton. Then -it was revealed to me that these men were country doctors, waiting to -hold a consultation with the great surgeon, who had been expected to -arrive on my train. The man on the bed had had serious trouble with his -knee. These physicians had agreed that the limb must be removed, yet -both hesitated to perform a complicated operation. Hence, the surgeon -was coming to do it. The sick man’s father-in-law had gone to the -station; he had been instructed to bring back a man of medium size, who -said little and carried a black case of surgical instruments. I was to -look for an elderly man with a gray beard. Father-in-law and I had mixed -our signals.</p> - -<p>It took me but a short time to convince these physicians that I could -not fill the bill or saw off the leg. At last it developed that the -actual surgeon was detained and could not come until the following day.</p> - -<p>The man on the bed forgot his terror and laughed when I told him my -story, and it gave him the fighting courage to compel his wife to -telegraph the surgeon not to come at all. But those doctors acted as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 215]</span> - -though I had deprived them of their prey. In my capacity as substitute -surgeon I gave the patient the best advice I knew of:</p> - -<p>“As one afflicted man to another, I advise you to hang right on to your -leg. Try the faith cure and make yourself believe it can be saved.”</p> - -<p>“You bet I will. They’ll have to cut my throat before they cut this leg -off!”</p> - -<p>I saw him some years later. He carried a cane and limped, but he still -had two legs.</p> - -<p>“They never cut it off,” he reported. “They put a silver cord in the -joint, and it has held ever since. It’s a little stiff—but <em>it’s a -leg</em>. I guess if Pa Morton and you hadn’t been deaf that night they -would have finished the job.”</p> - -<p>I have heard of a deaf man who had an experience somewhat similar to -this. He also left the train one dark, stormy night in a good-sized -city. He was a stranger, so he was quite unfamiliar with the place. -He carried a small black case containing his hearing device and a -few toilet articles. As he stood in the dim light looking about for -his friends, two men rushed up to him, talking quite excitedly; they -grasped him by the arms and hurried him outside the station. Unable to -understand the performance, the deaf man followed, trying to explain -that he was waiting for his friends. Almost before he knew it he found -himself inside a car with these excitable gentlemen, driving rapidly -through the streets. Of course, you wonder why deaf men under such - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 216]</span> - -conditions do not explain and break away.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t catch <em>me</em> in any such situation,” says my friend Jones. -“I’d soon make ’em understand.”</p> - -<p>There is only one thing the matter with Jones’ point of view—he has -never lived in the silence. Let him try that and he will understand that -philosophy assumes a form of patience in such situations. We are usually -quite helpless in the darkness, and when we go among strangers we must -either suspect everyone who approaches us or consider him a friend. Most -of us conclude from experience that it is wiser to drop suspicion and -assume that the majority of human beings are honest. And as the great -emotion of fear apparently enters the brain through the ear, we are apt -to be calm under most extraordinary conditions.</p> - -<p>We left our puzzled deaf man rushing in a car through the streets of an -unknown city. The auto finally entered a narrow, dark alley and stopped -before what appeared to be the back door of a large building. The deaf -man was urged out of the car by his nervous companions and was hurried -up a steep stairway. They blundered through several dark passages and -finally came out on the stage of a theater, where they stood in the -wings and watched a long-haired pianist in the center of the stage -laboring to unlock the keys of a piano in a way calculated to let loose - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 217]</span> - -a horde of imprisoned melodies. A vast audience filled the house.</p> - -<p>A man who appeared to be master of ceremonies rushed up to the deaf man -and wrote on his notebook:</p> - -<p>“Delighted to see you! We feared you were not coming. Your first number -is next on the program. We will give the professor an encore while you -are preparing.”</p> - -<p>The poor deaf man could only stare and protest in wonder, but soon a -ponderous German puffed up the stairs in great excitement. He pulled -the unfortunate victim back among the heaps of properties and roared, -shaking his fist:</p> - -<p>“I am the cornetist what plays here! What do you mean, you impostor, who -try to take my place?”</p> - -<p>After they had succeeded in pacifying the German they explained to the -deaf man. They had engaged a celebrated cornet soloist for the benefit -concert, and had sent a reception committee to the station to meet him. -It was late, and these nervous men had never seen the great musician. -They did see a dignified man carrying what looked like a case for -musical instruments. When they asked him if he was Professor Hoffman, -the deaf man merely nodded his head as the quickest way to get rid of -them, and they naturally rushed him to the theater without further ado, -leaving the musician to find his way alone.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 218]</span></p> - -<p>This deaf man had a keen sense of humor, and greatly relished the -situation, but the German had never recognized a joke in his life, so he -continued to glare at the “impostor.” After a most humble apology about -all the committee could offer as recompense was an invitation to the -deaf man to <em>remain and hear the music</em>. He remained and was interested -in seeing his musical rival blow himself up to nearly twice his natural -size in order properly to express his feelings through his cornet.</p> - -<p>Many of his most amusing and at the same time tragic experiences come -to the deaf man through his association with drunken people. We meet -them in all our travels, and I must confess that I have never found a -more interesting study than that which deals with the effect of alcohol -upon the human character. A drunken deaf man is a most pitiable object, -but to the observant deaf man his drunken neighbor presents a case -of infinite wonder and variety. We see men naturally grim and silent -singing ridiculous songs, or attempting to dance. Men usually profane, -making no pretense at religion, suddenly quote from the Scriptures -devoutly. Quarrelsome men of rough, ugly temper overwhelm us with -attentions, while men of kindly nature challenge us to fight. We see it -all, and must judge such people mainly by their actions.</p> - -<p>Usually drunken men begin to talk to me. When they find that I do not -reply they generally foam over with sorrow or anger, and it is hard to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 219]</span> - -decide which is the more embarrassing. Once in a strange town when I -was looking about for my friends the town drunkard accosted me. I have -never known just what he did want, but when I explained that I was a -stranger looking for a certain street he volunteered to show me the way. -So he caught my arm and led me up the street, staggering against me at -every other step, and talking loudly. And on our way we met my friend -and his wife, sober and dignified persons who were horrified at my -appearance under the escort of the town drunkard. In his sober moments -my guide would never have thought of associating with these aristocratic -representatives of Main Street, but now he greeted them jovially, as old -friends. It was a most embarrassing situation, and my friends, being -absolutely devoid of humor, have never felt quite sure of me since the -incident.</p> - -<p>A drunken man once approached a friend of mine with a remark which he -did not understand, as he was deaf, so he merely shook his head and -turned away. The intoxicated man, full of fight, followed, shouting -challenges and pulling off his coat. A crowd gathered about them, and -two rough-looking fellows got behind the deaf man and offered to act as -his seconds. One of them advised:</p> - -<p>“Give him an upper cut on the chin whisker and follow it up with one on -his basket!”</p> - -<p>What the deaf man did was to pull out his notebook and pencil and give - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 220]</span> - -them to the drunken man, who now was quite ready for the fray.</p> - -<p>“I cannot hear a word you say. Write it out for me!”</p> - -<p>This is offered as a suggestion to the peace-makers, that they may be -more blessed than ever before. Whenever a man curses you, and you want -to gain time—ask him to write it out! Here the drunken man looked -curiously at the deaf man and then at the notebook. He pondered deeply -for a moment and then slowly began to put on his coat. He walked -unsteadily to a little box nearby, mounted it carefully and delivered a -short speech something like this:</p> - -<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, I am wrong. This man is not my enemy, but my -friend, made so through affliction. He is in need. I suggest that we -all chip in and help him on his way. I’ll start with the price of three -drinks! Come now, loosen up! He who giveth let him give quickly!”</p> - -<p>Once I lived in the house with a kindly man who had a fierce craving for -drink. He really fought against it, but it mastered him again and again. -One year at Christmas he had gone for several months without drinking. -He was like a consumptive who imagines that he has overcome his disease -while it still lurks within only waiting for favorable conditions to -blaze up. A few days before Christmas several old friends stepped out -of his wild past and broke down the man’s self-control. When I came - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 221]</span> - -home he was “roaring drunk”—I had never seen him in worse condition. -As I came up the stairs he rushed suddenly out of his room and caught -me unexpectedly by the collar. As I was taken off my guard he was able -to pull me inside the room, shut the door and throw himself against it. -At that time I could hear much of what he said. He glared at me like -a maniac. His fists were clenched, his eyes were bloodshot and he was -altogether a terrifying and a pitiful spectacle.</p> - -<p>I expected him to throw himself upon me, and I was ready. I had no idea -wherein I had offended, and I did not want to hurt him. I derided that -when he sprang at me I would sidestep and give him the “French trip” -which I had learned in the lumber camps. That will floor anyone who is -not prepared for it, and I knew that I could tie him if necessary. But -there was no fight in him except the frightful battle he was waging -against himself. His fists opened and he held out his hands appealingly.</p> - -<p>“<em>I’ve brought you here to pray for me!</em> Get right down on your knees -and pray that I may be a man and not a skunk!”</p> - -<p>Well—take it as you like, the deaf man has his share of excitement with -all sorts of men. There seems to be no good reason that we should lead -uneventful lives! I have often wondered what various pompous friends -of mine would have done with the above situation. Or I should like to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 222]</span> - -see them master another incident which involved the same man. Once he -approached me as I stood talking with visitors.</p> - -<p>“I want you to do me a favor!” he said in the thick, eager voice of the -intoxicated. “I want you to kick me, and kick me hard!” As I did not -reply he thought I had not heard, so taking off his coat he backed up to -me in a way any deaf person could understand!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">All in a Lifetime</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The Training School for Robbers—Eavesdroppers Who Heard -Not a Word—The Fox and the Wolf—The Murderer—The -Plans for Eloping—Regarding the Deaf as Uncanny—The -Narrowness and Prejudice of the Deaf Themselves—Dancing -and Singing Eliminated—The Blind and the Deaf, and the -Man with Both Afflictions. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">On a lonely corner in New York City I once saw three boys practicing -the gentle art of highway robbery. One played the part of victim; he -walked along giving a good imitation of the ordinary citizen busy with -his own thoughts, giving little attention to his surroundings. The other -two boys approached him carelessly, apparently laughing at some joke. -As they passed, one of the “robbers” suddenly turned and threw his left -arm around the “citizen’s” head just below the chin. Then he quickly -slid his right arm down to pinion the arms of the victim just above -the elbow. He put his left knee at the middle of the victim’s back and -pulled with the left arm. It was a murderous grip; the more the victim -struggled the closer drew the “head lock” under his chin, and the neck -was forced back to the breaking point. The other boys deftly emptied -the unprotected pockets of watch and money. Then they threw the victim -to the ground and ran away. They rehearsed this over and over—taking - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 224]</span> - -turns at the different positions, perfecting themselves in this -barbarous business.</p> - -<p>I watched this fascinating play for some time, studying to think of some -way in which the victim might defend himself. He might possibly use his -feet, but taken unaware probably his breath would be shut off before -he could organize any defense. One can easily realize how powerless an -unsuspecting stranger would be at the hands of three trained villains -such as these boys seemed likely to become.</p> - -<p>Two years later I had occasion to pass through the street where this -rogue’s training had been carried on. It was after dark, and just as my -mind reverted to this grewsome drill two men appeared from under the -shadow of the elevated station. They stopped and spoke to me, but I did -not understand. One of them repeated his question, pointing at my watch -chain. Naturally I pulled back my arm to strike him as I saw an opening, -but the other man quickly caught my head and arms in that murderous lock -which I had seen those boys practicing. He did not hurt me, but I found -myself powerless to move or speak. I cannot describe the feeling of -utter helplessness caused by that grip at my throat and arms. The first -man took my watch from my pocket and held it to the light, looked at it -carefully—<em>and put it back again</em>! He looked over my shoulder at his -companion who held me captive, and as his face was then in the light, I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 225]</span> - -could read the words on his lips:</p> - -<p>“Only nine o’clock?”</p> - -<p>Then I read once more:</p> - -<p>“Thank you!”</p> - -<p>My arms were set free, and, smiling, the two men hurried on. I assume -that they merely wanted to know the time. They saw that I could not hear -them and that I might call for help and put them in a bad position, so -they helped themselves to the time of day in true hold-up style.</p> - -<p>One man’s adventure illustrates how deafness may be converted into -an asset if the affliction can be kept concealed. He went to a city -park, and was sitting on a bench which was partly concealed by trees -and shrubs. He was undergoing one of those periods of depression which -often fall upon us in the silence, after some sharp rebuff, or when -the real trouble of our affliction is visited upon us by some careless -associate. Completely absorbed, this man did not notice that a nearby -seat was occupied by a young woman and a man. Finally he did perceive -that they were talking earnestly—the man was evidently pleading and -the woman was inclined to deny him. But at last she evidently consented -to his proposition, and he looked cautiously around to make sure that -they were alone before sealing the agreement in the usual way. Then for -the first time he discovered my deaf friend within ten feet of their - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 226]</span> - -bench! Of course these young people assumed that the deaf man had heard -it all. From the beginning conscience has made cowards of most of us. -The girl started to advertise her feelings with a scream, but her -companion checked her just in time by pointing to a park policeman who -was swinging his club at the corner of the path. Then he took out his -notebook, and without trying to talk he wrote this brief explanation and -handed it to the deaf man.</p> - -<p>“Please don’t betray us. It is true that we have planned to elope. We -will be married this afternoon in New Jersey. I am sure her father -will forgive us when we return; it is our only way. You overheard by -accident—now be a good sport and let us alone!”</p> - -<p>The deaf man put on his glasses to read the note. Through the film which -gathered on the lenses he saw only visions of youth and romance. No -woman would be likely to come into the land of silence and elope with -him! That would be but a clumsy and ridiculous performance, and he knew -it well. These young people were probably all wrong. Yonder policeman -would question them, find where they lived and notify the father of -the girl. As a sober-minded citizen opposed to youthful folly and far -removed from it, was it not his duty to stop such nonsense? And yet—</p> - -<p>He who hesitates is frequently spared the necessity for decision. He -looked up to find that the young people had disappeared, they had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 227]</span> - -slipped out of sight during his meditation. And in his lonely silence -the deaf man could smile, for he was glad that they got away.</p> - -<p>Another deaf man was traveling through a Western State in a Pullman. -This man noticed two men who seemed to be engaged in a most earnest -discussion. They sat across the aisle from him and as they talked they -glanced furtively about. They were a forbidding pair, one a great -hulking brute with a broad red face—the other a little rat of a man -with a low, receding forehead and a bright, restless eye. The wolf and -the fox appeared to be hunting together. Frequently the big man became -emphatic and struck the back of the seat with his great fist while -the little man shook his head and bared his teeth in a smile which -seemed like a menace. The deaf man wished to change his position so -as to get a better view of the country, and he happened to drop into -the seat which backed up against the one in which the wolf and the fox -were laying their plans. At first they paid no attention to him, but -continued to argue and gesticulate. Finally the fox realized that the -head of the deaf man was within a foot of their conversation. How was he -to know that the “listener” might as well have been a mile away in so -far as successful eavesdropping was concerned? He instantly signalled -to the wolf and the discussion stopped. They both soon moved to the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 228]</span> - -smoking-room, where they whispered for a little time; then the fox came -to sit beside the deaf man. He glanced about anxiously, but finally said:</p> - -<p>“Did you happen to hear what we were saying?”</p> - -<p>The “eavesdropper” read some of the words on the lips of the other, and -vaguely nodded his head. Then the fox took a piece of paper and wrote:</p> - -<p>“It is a good joke. I made a bet with my friend that we could make you -think we were in earnest in planning the job. Of course there is nothing -to it. It was a fake talk.”</p> - -<p>Just then the wolf appeared with his hat and suitcase. The train was -approaching a small town. “Come,” he said, “we get out here.” His friend -jumped up to join him. They sprang off as the train stopped, though the -conductor said that their tickets would have carried them fifty miles -farther. The deaf man caught a look of fear and suspicion from the fox -as the two disappeared. Of course they were planning mischief, but fear -of this deaf man caused them to run from him as they would have fled a -plague.</p> - -<p>Many years ago I passed a Winter in a lumber camp far up among the -snows of Northern Michigan. My bunk-mate was a gigantic, silent man, a -stranger and a mystery to all the rest of us. He said little and made -no friends. He had a curious habit of glancing hurriedly about him; he -started at light sounds and appeared to keep a watchful eye always upon - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 229]</span> - -the door. Frequently at night I found him awake, gazing at the lantern -which always hung at the door, near the end of the camp. One day the -driver of the supply team smuggled a bottle of whiskey into camp and my -bunk-mate was able to get two good drinks. We worked together that day -in a lonely place, and he became quite talkative. I could not hear him -well, but he was evidently trying to tell some incident of his own life. -There in the forest, knee deep in snow, he appeared to be acting out a -tragedy. At the last he did not seem to realize that I was there. He -addressed some imaginary person, holding out his hands as if in appeal. -Apparently this was rejected, and his face changed in anger. He caught -up his axe and rushed up to a fallen log; he struck it a blow which sent -a great chip flying a hundred feet away. Then he looked at me in wonder, -seeming to realize that I must have overheard him. He sat on the log, -took great handfuls of snow and held them against his head. I found -myself helping him with a great chunk of ice which I had brought from -the brook.</p> - -<p>“It was the whiskey,” he suddenly shouted. “It’s poison. It makes me -talk and think. Say—did you hear what I said? What was it?”</p> - -<p>He looked at me with hard, savage eyes. I had not heard his ravings and -did not recount his actions. He continued to stare at me silently, axe -in hand. Then he decided to believe my denial and he kept at work as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 230]</span> - -before, silent and grim. As we went back to camp that night he asked me -once more, with apparent irrelevance:</p> - -<p>“Did you hear what I said?”</p> - -<p>I again assured him that I had understood nothing, which was the truth. -He seemed satisfied, but during the evening he divided his attention -between me and the outside door; he was again puzzled over the chance -that I had heard. In the early morning I awoke to find myself alone in -the bunk. The man did not appear again.</p> - -<p>Two nights later I sat on the bench by the camp stove drying my clothes -after another day in the wet snow. At the moment when I was remembering -that curious watch-dog habit of my bunk-mate’s the door suddenly opened -and two men entered. One was the sheriff of a county in the lower -tier, near the Ohio line; the other was also armed. They were after my -bunk-mate—too late.</p> - -<p>“What’s it for?” asked the foreman.</p> - -<p>“Murder, I reckon. He quarreled with his wife and hit her with an axe.”</p> - -<p>And to this day I wonder what would have happened to me in the woods if -I had heard what he said.</p> - -<p>Deaf persons undoubtedly come to be really troublesome to many kindly -and essentially generous men and women. I have never been able to -understand the feeling; perhaps it resembles the creepy terror which - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 231]</span> - -the touch or the sight of a cat arouses in some persons. At any rate -I have been introduced to people who are unmistakably afraid of me. -They cross the street to avoid a face-to-face encounter. I think they -would not dare to walk alone with me at night. I have come to realize -that a fair proportion of the human beings I meet are actually afraid -of me, or uncomfortable in my presence until I in some way make them -understand that I will not annoy them, or that I have a message for them -which can be delivered by no one else. Some deaf people live tormented -by the thought that society rejects them, or at best merely tolerates -them. They would be far happier to admit frankly that they are not as -other men, and realize that there is no reason why the world should give -them special accommodation. They should rather seek to acquire original -personality or power which would make them so luminous that the world -would eagerly follow them. This is possible in some way for every deaf -person. It is our best hope.</p> - -<p>One of the finest men I ever knew told me frankly that two classes -of people make him shudder; men belonging to the Salvation Army, in -uniform, and deaf persons, trying to hear. This friend is a thoroughly -sincere clergyman, with a leaning toward the full dignity of the cloth. -The Salvation Army came to his town, and being charitably disposed -toward the workers, he attended one of their meetings. Greatly to his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 232]</span> - -embarrassment the captain called in a loud voice for Brother Johnson to -pray. The clergyman started in the formal manner but at the first period -he was greeted with a loud chorus—“<em>Amen, brother!</em>” While the drummer -pounded on his drum and clashed his brass. My friend still suffers -from the shock. His feeling for the deaf may be traced to Aunt Sallie. -At the bedside of a sick friend he was asked to pray. Before he could -even start, Aunt Sallie, very deaf but anxious to miss nothing, planted -herself so close as to place her ear about six inches from his mouth. -I do not wonder that this man will cross the street at the approach of -deafness or a uniformed Salvation Army officer.</p> - -<p>And it must be admitted that it is quite easy for the deaf themselves -to become narrow and prejudiced. Frequently when exiled to the silent -world, with poetry and laughter shut out, we use a clipped yard-stick -to measure the good which is always to be found in everyone. Sometimes -prejudice is carried to a ridiculous extreme. When I was a boy Deacon -Drake of the Congregational Church went to a funeral at which a -Unitarian minister officiated. The Deacon had not heard for years, but -he sat stiff-necked and solemn until the choir sang a hymn which visibly -affected the people. He asked his daughter for the name of the hymn and -she wrote it out—“Nearer, My God, to Thee.” The old man had heard not -a note, but as he disapproved of the sentiment expressed he rose and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 233]</span> - -tramped firmly out of the room.</p> - -<p>Job asked “Where is wisdom to be found?” Surely the deaf may eliminate -singing and dancing as promising prospects for their search! Once a deaf -man went to a party and fell into the hands of a feminine “joker.” This -lady had wagered that she could dance a Virginia reel with a man unable -to hear a note of the music. She contended that she would make him hear -through vibration and thus guide him properly. Of course the deaf man -knew better, but what was he to do? What could any man do in such a -case? You yourself would probably trample all over judgment and common -sense and stand out to make yourself ridiculous as man has done for -centuries, and will doubtless continue to do!</p> - -<p>They started bravely, but half way down the line the music quickened and -the ill-starred deaf man landed heavily upon the foot of his partner. -It was a cruel smash. The vibration process was reversed. She lost her -wager and he was counted out, but he should have known better.</p> - -<p>Perhaps you have seen a deaf man trying to march in a parade; I once saw -one trying to keep step to his own wedding march! Well, I may say that -the wife of a deaf man has many trials, usually she must do the marching -for both.</p> - -<p>I have often been asked whether total deafness is a greater affliction - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 234]</span> - -than total blindness. It would be very difficult to decide. At times -the blind man would gladly exchange his hearing for sight; he so longs -to see the faces of old friends or of his children. Yet frequently he -is glad that the burden of deafness has not been laid upon him. In like -manner the deaf man would sometimes give all he has for the sound of -some familiar voice or the melody of some old song. Yet, considering -carefully and weighing all the evidence, total blindness seems the -greater affliction. But I have had blind men “feel sorry” for me because -I miss the sounds of the birds and cannot hear whispered confidences.</p> - -<p>However, I think the blind are happier than the deaf. There is less of -the torture of Tantalus about their affliction. If they are surrounded -by loving and considerate friends they have less to regret than the -deaf; their embarrassments are not brought home so cruelly, for they -do not see the consequences of their own blunders. I know a woman who -was suddenly blinded, twenty-five years ago. She has lived usefully and -happily with her family. Her children are now middle-age men and women, -showing the wrinkles and the wear of life. Her husband and her brother -have aged, but not for her. She only sees the old vision of youth and -power. An illuminated silence would have given her all the signs of age -creeping upon those nearest her, and would have destroyed her intimate -part in the everyday family life. Her children never could have come - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 235]</span> - -to her, weeping, seeking her sacred confidences, had she been unable to -hear them.</p> - -<p>Society has a more kindly feeling for the blind man than for the -deaf—at least so it seems to us. You may find a good illustration of -this at some party or social gathering in the country. The neighbors -gather; very likely it is Winter and they come from lonely places, -eager for human companionship. It is a jolly gathering. Perhaps a blind -man and a deaf man of equal social importance, will enter the room -simultaneously. The blind man hears the laughter and the happy chatter -and at once enters into the spirit of the evening. The deaf man catches -no happy contagion, he feels a melancholy irritation. He would have been -far happier at home with his book, but his wife and daughter urged upon -him the duty of coming to “enjoy himself” and—here he is.</p> - -<p>Half a dozen people rush to the blind man. He must be guided to a -comfortable seat where a willing interpreter will quickly make him feel -at home. He is told about the new red dress which Mrs. Jones is wearing, -it is so becoming! Miss Foster is in blue, and her hair is arranged in -the latest New York style. Henry Benson has shaved off his beard. John -Mercer has a bandage on his hand where he cut it with the saw. The Chase -girls have new fur coats. The blind man sees it through the eyes of his -neighbor. It is a pleasure to sit unobtrusively and talk to him—it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 236]</span> - -gives one a thrill of satisfaction to feel that the blind man is made -happy.</p> - -<p>But who rushes to the deaf man for the privilege of being his -interpreter? In all my experience I have known only one person to do -this. As he looks about him for a vacant seat the deaf man sees few -inviting hands or faces. If he is able to read facial expressions at all -he soon fancies that there are many versions of the thought:</p> - -<p>“Oh, I hope that man will not sit near me!”</p> - -<p>Who desires to attract attention by screaming at the deaf man or to -spend the evening writing out for him what others are saying?</p> - -<p>A little handful of people once attended a prayer meeting at a little -country church back among the hills. It was during a severe, gloomy -Winter, a season of unusual trouble and unusual complaint. The little -stove could barely melt the thick frost on the windows. The feeble lamps -gave but a dim light. Yet as the meeting progressed through prayer -and song that melancholy group of farmers mellowed, and undoubtedly -something of holy joy came to them. I, of course, heard not a word -of the service, but apparently each person waited for the spirit to -move them, then rose and repeated some well-worn prayer or a verse of -Scripture. It was utterly crude and simple, but a certain power fell -upon that company and for the moment it was lifted out of the dull -commonplace of daily life. Little or nothing of the spiritual uplift - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 237]</span> - -came to me. At the close of the service I saw people who had come gloomy -and depressed acting like happy children, shaking hands, forgetting -old troubles, buoyed and braced. And some of them seemed to regard my -calmness with wonder—I could not fully join in their happiness.</p> - -<p>It is evident that a sincere religious spirit can bring great comfort -to the deaf. Now and then I find a deaf man who practices what I -call professional religion with all the cant and the pious phrases -necessary. It never seems to ring true. The deaf are notorious failures -at deception. But a firm trust in God and a sincere belief in His power -and mercy should be “As the shadow of a mighty rock in a weary land”—of -silence. We must have the best possible moral support.</p> - -<p>I know of a man who is both blind and deaf. Once when I gave way -momentarily to depression his wife wrote me:</p> - -<p>“I felt like writing an invitation to you to come and look at my husband -who is both blind and deaf. An accident twenty-one years ago caused the -loss of sight, which came on gradually but finally became complete. When -I told him you were to write “Adventures in Silence,” he said, ‘Why -not the wonders of silence and darkness?’ That has been his attitude -all through these burdened years. These are but a small portion of the -misfortunes and trials which have befallen us, but as he guides himself - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 238]</span> - -by lines hung from one point to another just high enough to take the -crook of his cane there comes never a word of discouragement or despair. -Here let me say that an educated, trained mind is the finest gift you -can give to your children. It is the possession of a wonderful mind well -trained by a splendid education that has been next to God’s love that -has kept ‘my man’ upright and strong through the darkened and silent -valley.”</p> - -<p>We may all of us readily understand that no human or material power is -strong enough to sustain a man through such a fate.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">Imaginary Fears, Stuffed Lions and Bogus “Wild -Men”—Sound as Stimulating Emotions, Even of Animals—The -Brazen Courage of the Deaf—The Rum-crazed Men—The -Overflowing Brook—The Drunken Prizefighter Challenged -by a Deaf Man—The Terrors Lurking Within—Demons of -Depression—The Deaf Man and the Only Girl. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">Most of our fears are imaginary. I am convinced of this after a long -study of deaf people, and a careful analysis of my own experience in -the silence. I believe that physical fear is almost invariably induced -by sound. We all see lions in the way. The man with good ears hears the -roaring and hesitates, or turns aside. The horrible sound does not reach -the deaf man, and he feels more inclined to go ahead and investigate. -Most frequently the frightful object turns out to be a stuffed lion, a -creature without effective claws or teeth, with nothing but wind in its -roaring!</p> - -<p>With a little thought every man can remember incidents which tend to -prove this statement, but in time of threatened danger he is likely to -forget them. Years ago in my boyhood days a couple of us youngsters -went to a circus in the country town. In one of the side-shows was a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 240]</span> - -fierce-looking creature labelled “The Wild Man of Borneo.” It appeared -to be a human being of medium size with long claws, rolling eyes, -and a dreadful, discolored, hairy countenance. His most frightful -characteristic was his voice, which was exhibited by a horrible roar, -a sound well calculated to chill the simple hearts of the country -people who listened to the “manager’s” tale of a thrilling capture. -There had been a bloody fight in which the wild man had killed several -dogs and wounded a number of hunters. He would never have surrendered -had they not first captured his mate; he followed her into voluntary -slavery—“Thus proving that love is the primal and ruling force of the -universe. The love-song of this devoted couple, ringing over the hills -and dales, would have daunted the stoutest heart.” In proof of which the -two caged creatures started a chorus of roars which would have sent the -country people home to shudder in the darkness, had not a very practical -deaf man been moved to investigate. He heard nothing of the explanation, -and but little of the roaring; he only saw a couple of undersized -creatures, exceedingly dirty and not particularly interesting. The “love -song” gave them no glamour for him. So he idly lifted a curtain which -hung at one corner of the tent, and, lo, the fountain of sound was -revealed at its true source. A hot and perspiring fat man was working -industriously at the pedal of a “wind machine,” a device resembling - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 241]</span> - -an old-fashioned parlor organ. Here was the real explanation of those -primitive cries proving the deep affection which the “Wild Man of -Borneo” felt for his mate. The deaf man pulled the curtain completely -down and exposed the humbug.</p> - -<p>Well, it broke up the show! Next to the fury of a woman scorned is the -wrath of a crowd of country people who have paid their money for a -thrill only to find themselves served with a very thin trick. They see -no humor in the situation, and an exposure of this sort is a cruel blow -at their pride and judgment. People with humor and philosophy would have -laughed at the joke and polished it up for the benefit of their friends, -but this hard-headed, serious folk could only find relief by pulling -down the tent. In a far larger way this is what the solid, unreasoning -and unimaginative element of a population will do to a state or a -national government when some political trick has been exposed.</p> - -<p>It was the “wild man” himself who saved the situation in the circus -tent, and tamed the outraged audience. He pulled off his wig and beard -and shed the claws which were fitted to his fingers like gloves. Then -there stood revealed a small Irishman with a freckled, good-natured face.</p> - -<p>“Sure,” he said, “the game’s up and I’m glad, because it’s a tiresome -job. I’ve worked on a farm in my day, and I’d like to do it again. If - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 242]</span> - -any of you farmers here will give me a job, I’ll take it.”</p> - -<p>“And me, too!” said the “mate”; when “her” frowsy head dress came off -there was a red-haired young fellow of pleasant countenance. They both -got farm jobs and lived in that community for several years. The “mate” -finally married a farmer’s daughter!</p> - -<p>It has been said that the primary effect of sound is the creating of -moods; psychologists have spent much time in analyzing the connection -between sound and fear and kindred emotions. It is easy enough to -realize that sight must inform or directly affect the intellect. Theater -managers prove the necessity of supplementing sight with sound when they -obtain a full play of emotion by giving the audience appropriate music, -which they stress during emotional passages. Perhaps what we <em>are</em> is -determined by what we see, while what we <em>feel</em> is decided by what we -hear. The deaf are frequently termed hard-hearted and even cold-blooded. -I have known deaf persons actually to smile at cases of grief or injury -which seemed tragic to those who could hear what the unfortunate victims -were saying. They saw only the physical contortions. Suppose you with -good ears and I in my silence, walking together, meet a little crying -child. I can only observe the outward signs of distress; I see her tears -and watch the little chest rise and fall with her sobs. My sympathy can - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 243]</span> - -be only vague and general—I may even smile to myself over the shallow -sorrows of childhood. It will pay you to stoop over and hear the whole -story, to catch every tone of the little, grief-stricken voice. I have -no means of offering intelligent consolation, perhaps you can explain -the trouble away or offer a quick diversion.</p> - -<p>There are hundreds of instances where the deaf have undergone battles, -shipwrecks or other frightful adventures with composure, while their -companions were stumbling or jabbering with fear. These latter would -tell you that the most horrible part of their experience was the cries -of the suffering who faced death in agony and fear. The mere spectacle -of the suffering did not upset the cool judgment of the deaf.</p> - -<p>It seems evident that sound also has a greater stimulating effect upon -the emotions of animals than do the other senses. A friend who has -studied this subject says:</p> - -<p>“I have imitated different animals many thousand times, and can easily -deceive them at their own game, but cannot long deceive the average -person. A dog relying on sight, smell and hearing—and maybe a little, a -very little reasoning—although he may be very brave—can easily be made -to flee in terror by the right sort of growling and noises connecting -first wonder, then anger or terror. He hears a very ferocious dog, but -can neither see nor smell him; here is something new, which he cannot - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 244]</span> - -reason out—he curls his tail, gives a frightened yelp, registers fear -in other ways and runs with all his might.</p> - -<p>“Recently I was out hunting wild turkeys, and had nearly induced one to -come near to me when a stick fell from a tree, and without waiting to -reason, away he went. My call would not deceive a person, but any sort -of an amateur squawk easily deceives a gobbler. Not long ago, a friend -of mine, while calling a gobbler, called also a wildcat who was trying -to get the gobbler for breakfast. Animal sight may be ultra-human, but I -am very sure that animal hearing is not.”</p> - -<p>Doubtless we all rely on hearing to keep us informed concerning the -fear instinct. Children hear a great deal subjectively, aided by their -fears plus imagination. I am almost prepared to state that deafness is -connected with fearlessness above the average, but I am not yet sure -of my ground. Any defect of the five senses strengthens in a measure -the remaining channels, and deafness cannot but assist concentration -in those persons of studious contemplative habit, since it closes -one avenue of interruption. I have noticed that with those of a -philosophical turn plus strong will—or won’t—deafness saves nerve -fatigue, from hearing many noises or remarks.</p> - -<p>I have observed the habits of several deaf cats and dogs, and have -noted instances of exceptional bravery, and evidences of a new sense, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 245]</span> - -probably the substitute for the one they have lost. Some of my own -experiences also show how sound dominates physical fear.</p> - -<p>During my Winter in a large lumber camp of Northern Michigan I found how -far life can swing from the ideal republic even in this country. The -snow had shut in our little community for the Winter. The majority of -our choppers were French Canadians and Swedes, strains of humanity which -are completely unlike until whiskey breeds in both a desire to fight -and kill. In some way the Canadians had obtained a supply of “white -whiskey” (a mixture of grain alcohol and water) at Christmas, and the -entire outfit prepared to celebrate gloriously. The boss prepared to -follow Grant’s famous plan of campaign. He cut off the enemy’s base of -supplies by locking the door of the cook’s shanty and refusing to feed -the rioters. This brought the revolution to a head. A crowd of savage -men gathered in front of the buildings with their axes, and threatened -to cut the doors out and to kill the few of us who were left on guard. -After it was all over I was told that the cursing and the threatening of -these rum-crazed men was frightful, but as I could not hear a syllable -of it I walked up to them, entered the group and talked the situation -over with French Charlie, Joe the Devil and the Blue Swede. The rest -of my side expected to see me chopped into pieces, but most men who - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 246]</span> - -threaten before they act will talk a full dictionary before they kill. -These drunken men were so astonished at a deaf man’s disregard of their -threats that they were diverted from their anger, and I was able to make -terms with them. I probably should not have dared to go near them if I -had received the curses and threats direct.</p> - -<p>Years later a sudden cloudburst in the hills above our farm filled the -streams to overflowing. The little river near our home jumped out of -its bed and spread over the road—a rushing, roaring, shallow sheet of -water. I had to cross that part of the road in order to get my train, -and I took a steady horse, with one of the little boys in the buggy -with me. At the edge of this overflow we found a group of excited men -who were listening to the roaring, and were afraid to venture over. I -used my eyes calmly and observed that the bridge was quite sound, and -the water was too shallow to be really dangerous. So in I drove with my -boy—who was white with terror—while most of the men tried to stop me. -The old horse waded calmly and safely, and we crossed without trouble. -The water never reached the hub of the wheel! Yet on the other side men -stood half paralyzed <em>because they heard the roaring water</em> and stopped -to listen. On the other side my boy said, “But you never would have done -it <em>if you could hear that water</em>!”</p> - -<p>As I look from the silent land out into the busy world I see men - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 247]</span> - -hesitate, falter and fall back at terrors which appear to me imaginary. -They <em>stop to listen</em>—and are lost. Like my boy on the edge of the -river, they hear the roaring water and become unfit for calm judgment, -or keen analysis of actual danger. Most people with good hearing stop -too frequently to listen. A scarecrow may have been making a noise like -a fighting man! If you listen long enough to the tales of a liar you -will come to regard him as a lion.</p> - -<p>A friend of mine relates a strange adventure which befell him on a New -York subway train. He was a “strap-hanger” in a crowded express car -rushing up town. As is the habit of the deaf he forgot the throng around -him and let his mind become absorbed in the business he was engaged -in. This is the privilege of us deaf; we may be near enough to a dozen -men to touch them with our hands, yet the mind can take us miles away -from all distractions. This man was rudely shaken from his oblivion by -a great commotion in the car. The passengers rushed forward past him, -stumbling over each other in their eagerness to get away to the front -of the train. Two so-called “guards” fled with the rest. The deaf man -did not join the stampede because he had no idea what it was all about, -and long experience of the vagaries of people who can hear had taught -him the wisdom of keeping out of the rush. He glanced over his shoulder -and saw that the back of the car was empty save for one man, who stood -quite near to him. This was a thick-set individual with a small, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 248]</span> - -bullet-shaped head, set firmly on a bull neck. He had a heavy red face, -and small, deep-set eyes, but his most singular feature was his right -ear—it did not look human at all, but resembled a small cauliflower. -The eyes of the deaf are quick to seize upon the most unusual or -conspicuous part of an object—my deaf friend noted first of all that -cauliflower ear.</p> - -<p>Its owner advanced and shook his fist menacingly, shouting words which -only served to increase the confusion of the stampeders. The deaf -man merely hung to his strap and over his shoulder shouted into the -cauliflower ear:</p> - -<p>“Oh, shut up! Give us a rest!”</p> - -<p>The “guard” who was trying to jam through the door nearly fell with -astonishment. As the man continued to approach from behind, the deaf man -turned and pointed a finger at him.</p> - -<p>“I can’t hear a word you say, and I don’t know who you are—but shut up, -and stop your noise!”</p> - -<p>The antagonist glanced sharply at him—then the deaf man read on his -lips:</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know who I am?”</p> - -<p>“No, and I don’t care!”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you hear what I say?”</p> - -<p>“No, and I don’t want to! Mind your own business!”</p> - -<p>The bullet-headed man uttered one short expressive word and sat down. -At Forty-second Street two good-sized policemen appeared, but they - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 249]</span> - -waited for reinforcements before arresting the disturber. However, he -went willingly, casting back a look of mingled fear and admiration at -the deaf man. My friend did not know he was a hero until he learned -that the belligerent gentleman was a champion middle-weight boxer, very -drunk and very ugly. He had threatened to clean out the crowd—hence the -sudden stampede. This deaf man tells me that if he had really known to -whom the cauliflower ear belonged he would have been the first man out -of the car. As it happened he gained a reputation for being the only man -who ever told a “champ” to shut up, and then cooled him off by shaking a -finger. I have known many deaf men who have escaped from such situations -most marvelously uninjured.</p> - -<p>Yet while the deaf man is smiling at most of the terrors which approach -him from without, he falls an easy prey to those which attack from -within. Imagination will often lead a sensitive man into untold misery. -Our hardest struggles come when we must strangle the imps of depression, -our personal devils. They come with evil suggestion, frequently with -actual voices, eager to poison the will and paralyze the courage. I have -no doubt that Whittier’s great poem beginning:</p> - -<p class="center">“<i>Spare me, dread angel of reproach</i>”</p> - -<p>was written as the result of subjective audition. I suppose the average -person can never know how close the deaf are driven to temporary - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 250]</span> - -insanity in their struggles to overcome doubts and imaginary fears. -Sometimes the fear concentrates upon the idea that they will lose sight -as well as hearing! Or perhaps doubt of wife, children or friends will -present itself forcibly. Little incidents, a feeling that people are -laughing at their expense, some unintentional slight, a misunderstanding -or a rude nervous shock, any of these may start the hateful imps which -live in one part of the brain at their fearful work of poisoning the -mind and the will. At times the deaf man finds it almost impossible to -wrench free from these accursed influences.</p> - -<p>Some readers become so completely absorbed in books that they cannot -take the mind from a sad or an exciting story. I have known deaf men to -enter into such a story as George Eliot’s “Mill on the Floss” so that -they lived through the lives of the various characters and found that -they could not shake off the depression. Usually I can tell when the -author is deaf by the general character of the story. The dialogue is -as a rule unnatural and the tone is apt to be gloomy. Music, or light, -aimless conversation would clear the mind and make the reader remember -that it is only a story—but to the deaf man, deprived of these aids, -the tragedy depicted on the printed page becomes shockingly real. -The best remedy for me is to “read in streaks.” Whenever I find that -a book is liable to have this powerful effect on me I do not read - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 251]</span> - -continuously, but after a few chapters I take up something in lighter -vein, or even a serious volume of solid thought. Some of us deaf acquire -a morbid desire to read sad or sombre literature. This mistake should -be overcome even if it requires a supreme effort. If one can acquire -faith in the Bible and reverence for its teachings it will give greater -comfort to the deaf than will any other book. I place Shakespeare next, -then Milton and the other great poets. But let a deaf man read what -interests him, if it be nothing but the local paper. If he lives in the -country let him become a correspondent for his local paper, and join -the hunt for local news. He should leave out of his list all tales of -depression and sin. The deaf person should make a point of reading half -a dozen of the “best sellers” each year. They are likely to be stories -of human nature, and they will undoubtedly contain natural dialogue; -these elements are sadly needed by the deaf, yet they are the least -likely to come into the silent world.</p> - -<p>Of course you will contend, and truly, that it is supremely foolish -for grown men and women to give way to imaginary fears and doubts. Yet -the very absurdity makes it harder to bring cool reason into the fight -against these imps. As Claude Melnotte in “The Lady of Lyons” puts it:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“It is the sting of such a woe as mine</div> - <div class="verse">To <em>feel I am a man</em>!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Again, my best remedy is to force the mind backward into familiar - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 252]</span> - -incidents which clearly show that these fierce lions of the imagination -are at best mere scarecrows. There is one favorite adventure which -usually serves to lift the spell.</p> - -<p>Many years ago a certain young man met a certain young woman, and the -young man was soon completely certain that here was “the only girl”. -Ever since the world began young men have singled out young women by a -process of selection, not usually scientific or always safe or sane; -yet life has continued for many centuries with upward tendencies as -a result. This young man’s ancestor, the cave man, would doubtlessly -have taken a club (if he had been big enough), knocked down the male -members of the family, and dragged the young woman off to his own hole -in the rocks. The race has progressed since then, and the family must be -approached in a more gentle manner. This young woman had a wide choice. -She was bright and lively and pretty, with a long string of attendants. -The man was serious-minded and poor, with prospects far from the best. -His hearing was failing, and he knew that deafness was inevitable. He -had reasoned out the whole situation with the greatest care. Here was -the “only girl,” but the cold future lay on ahead. Have the deaf a -right to marry? Is it fair to ask anyone to share the results of such -an affliction? What he did was to go straight to the “only girl” with -the truth. Probably the imps of depression had begun to talk to him - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 253]</span> - -even then. No doubt he made his future chances seem harder than he might -have done. It is said that John G. Whittier made the same blunder of -exaggerated honesty when he offered marriage to another “only girl.” The -girl rejected him and Whittier never married. But in our case the “only -girl” said that she would “think it over.”</p> - -<p>Then came the lawn party. The young man was a little late, and dancing -had begun when he came and looked through the window. Those were the -good old Southern days when we swung about in the old-fashioned waltz; -the happy days before the war were still in mind, and we danced to such -plaintive tunes as “Old Kentucky Home,” and “Nellie Was a Lady.” The -young man outside saw the “only girl” dancing with Henry. Henry was a -good fellow, bright and clean; his mother was the richest woman in town. -When the music stopped the couple came out onto the lawn. The waiting -young man saw them find seats under a tree, back from the lights, where -they sat down to talk earnestly. The watcher could think of but one -probable topic for conversation. Once as he walked down a path under a -lamp they looked at him and he saw the “only girl” smile. He lost all -interest in the party. He walked on out along the lonely country road, -and like Philip Ray of Enoch Arden, “had his dark hour alone.”</p> - -<p>The imps came to him in the dark, but he mastered them and reasoned it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 254]</span> - -out to a great peace. “It is better so. Henry can give her an easier -life. She will be happier here in her old home town. I must fight for a -place in the world, and she is not a fighter. I am handicapped. In the -years to come, as a deaf man I shall be worse off than a man with one -leg. I really have no right to ask her to share an uncertainty with me. -Henry is the better man—and yet, she is the ‘only girl.’ I cannot stay -here. I’ll go back North!”</p> - -<p>The deaf spend less time on regrets after the struggle than do those who -can hear. So the young man walked back to the house with a great peace -in his heart. The “only girl” was sitting on the steps, one of a group -of happy young people. And Henry came walking across the lawn straight -to the deaf man. The latter braced himself and held out his hand to the -rival—for what did it matter after all if the “only girl” could be -satisfied? But Henry got in ahead. He put out his hand impulsively and -said:</p> - -<p>“Old man, I congratulate you! She has told me all about it. She’s not -for me. She says she admires a self-made man, and that’s more than I can -ever be. Mother took the job off my hands too early!”</p> - -<p>This is undoubtedly the best antidote for my fears and imaginary -vagaries, and I like to pass it in mental review. And this lady who sits -at the other side of the fire! I wonder how much of it <em>she</em> remembers? -Does it have the effect of an antidote for her? She is writing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 255]</span> - -something for me now. No doubt she is remembering that night long -ago—the music and the moonlight and all the rest of it. Here is proof -of the power of mental communication. The good lady passes the message -over to me. Let me rub my glasses a moment in pleasant anticipation. I -read:</p> - -<p>“You went away this morning without leaving me any money. I must have -ten dollars to pay a few little bills!”</p> - -<p>Remembering happier days appears to be a special privilege of the deaf!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“The Terror That Flieth by Night”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockindent35">The Terror that Flieth by Night—’Gene Wilson in the Dark -Silence—How He Fought off Insanity—Childhood Fears—The -Cat in the Garret—The Blind and the Deaf at the Dark -Railroad Station—A Georgia Experience. -</p> - -<p class="topspace2">The sense of utter helplessness and the heart chill which envelop a deaf -person suddenly plunged into darkness are indescribable. For example, of -course, I know perfectly well that the darkness does not of itself carry -evil or extra danger; I have come through it repeatedly without harm, -yet in spite of all that I can think or do I invariably experience an -instant of paralyzing fear. Persons who have never known perfect hearing -do not feel the full terror, I think, but there is tragedy in the sudden -withdrawal of light for those who have gradually, perhaps imperceptibly, -come to substitute eyes for ears. They may recover their mental poise -after a moment of mental struggle but for a brief space, before they can -adjust the mind, they will come close to insanity. I can assure you that -at such a time the moments are hours.</p> - -<p>I know of at least one deaf man, a farmer, who will vouch for the truth - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 257]</span> - -of my statements, though you with good ears may contend that it is -fantastic to be so affected. ’Gene Wilson had come to depend on his wife -and children as interpreters in his communications with others. Many a -deaf person has lost the habit of listening, of paying close attention, -through his perfect confidence in the family interpreter. In any case, -many men of middle-age are inclined to shirk the responsibility of -effort if they can find some one willing to assume it. The deaf man -loses his <em>will to hear</em> if not his actual hearing, the man of middle -years thus is inviting old age; both by effort could extend the “years -of grace.” ’Gene Wilson had sent a car load of potatoes to the city and -had followed to sell them, with his wife and little girl. During the -crowded noon hour he attempted to cross Broadway at Forty-second Street. -A policeman stood on guard to direct the traffic, but ’Gene did not -understand the signals. He tried to run across just as a big car started -uptown—of course the policeman shouted, but ’Gene could not hear him. -The driver could not stop in time and the deaf man was smashed to the -ground, where he lay stunned and bleeding. There was the usual call for -an ambulance, and ’Gene was hurried to a hospital. The deaf do not cry -out when injured or frightened; probably they lose the habit of this -form of expression since they do not hear others use it. Instead there -comes a whirling, a roaring of the head and a sort of mild paralysis of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 258]</span> - -the brain, but when this clears away it leaves the mind most acute and -active. ’Gene Wilson lay in this half-dazed condition, conscious only of -a fearful pounding at his brain. The doctors questioned him, but he did -not hear. They finally put him down as idiotic or at least half-insane. -Several deaf friends have told me how this label was attached to them -when they met with accidents while among strangers. One can scarcely -blame hurried, over-worked hospital doctors and nurses for paying scant -attention to such cases, and the afflicted must suffer.</p> - -<p>So they bandaged poor ’Gene’s head in such a way that his eyes were -covered. What difference could seeing make to a half-wit? How were those -doctors to know how much more the blessed sunshine meant to this deaf -man than it could possibly mean to them? And then ’Gene’s mind suddenly -cleared. His head was racked by pain and the roaring still sounded in -his ears, but he remembered back to the moment before the accident—and -now he found himself suddenly helpless, in the darkness. He forgot the -usual caution of the deaf and shouted! The nurses came running and tried -to make him understand, but a new terror possessed him. He tore at the -bandages which covered his eyes, but strong hands held him back; he -fought with all his power, lying there in the darkness and the silence, -but how were the nurses to understand that he was only fighting for the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 259]</span> - -sunshine? None of their explanations pacified him, so they strapped his -arms securely to the bed and held him a prisoner. Who knows what their -report might have been?</p> - -<p>’Gene Wilson tells me that a full thousand years of torment were crowded -for him in the next half-hour. He thinks that Dante missed one act -in his description of life in the infernal regions! ’Gene says that -frightful shapes stepped out of the shadows and seemed to lead him along -a lonely road, up close to a great house with transparent sides through -which he could look upon the grotesque shapes which dwelt therein. -Part of his mind seemed to know that it was the home of insanity. -Faces peered at him through the windows; some stared in a stupor of -melancholy, others showed grinning deviltry or hateful sneering, and -all were waiting to welcome him! And all around poor ’Gene were kindly -souls eager to help him and to draw him away from the awful place, but -he could not make them understand that he was not insane—only deaf.</p> - -<p>“You may believe it or not,” says ’Gene, going on with his story, “but -as I stood there struggling to get rid of those shapes at my sides my -mind searched for a strong, sane picture which should counteract the -spell of the evil ones. Suddenly there came to me the Twenty-third -Psalm, which as a boy I had committed to memory. It had been lying -forgotten at the back of my mind, but at that awful moment it returned - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 260]</span> - -complete and distinct. I lay there quietly, repeating the words over and -over.</p> - -<p>“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in -green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my -soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. -Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will -fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort -me.”</p> - -<p>I told ’Gene that here was evidence of the subconscious mind throwing up -something which had been buried deep into it years before.</p> - -<p>“I know nothing about that,” said he; “but as I lay there repeating -those words over and over a great peace came to me. The shapes at my -side disappeared, and I could walk away from that frightful place. Then -I felt a hand on my head which somehow I recognized, and another smaller -hand caught at my thumb. They loosened those hateful bandages and let -in the light. Then I saw—as I seemed to know I should—my wife sitting -beside me, and the little girl holding my hand.”</p> - -<p>I could assure ’Gene that I completely believed his story, for I have -also felt the strong emotions and imaginings which stir the deaf at -such times. Always the head noises grow louder when light is withdrawn -from our hearing eyes, and the voices which go with subjective hearing -become more pronounced. Probably the deaf are more sensitive to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 261]</span> - -subconscious thought than are those who hear well; we are deprived of -much of the sound which stimulates many trains of conscious thought. -Also we deaf must naturally deal with the past where most subconscious -thought is buried. I believe that the deaf hold very closely to memories -and associations of childhood—our long, quiet hours of reflection are -largely filled with remembering the most vivid impressions we have -received.</p> - -<p>Perhaps this accounts for some of the terror which the darkness brings. -Many of us remember the horrible shapes which peopled the black night -around our beds, and lurked in shadowy corners, often emerging to -dance grotesquely in the moonlight. When I was the “boy” on a New -England farm there was only one room in the house which was reasonably -warm in Winter, but at eight o’clock the old farmer would point with -unmistakable significance to the tall clock in the corner, and there -was nothing for me to do but to rush through the cold parlor, up the -colder stairs into the still colder attic, where my bed was in the -shadow of the great central chimney. Needless to say, I undressed in -bed. Then down under the covers I lay and trembled at the snap of the -frost. Once a piece of plaster fell from the unfinished wall above me -and struck my shoulder; again “Malty,” the gray cat, crawled in through -a hole in the roof and sprang upon my bed, striking terror to my soul, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 262]</span> - -though she really came as an old friend. The appearance of this unknown -crawling thing on my bed inspired a frenzy of fear—but I knew that -it would do me no good to scream or call for help. My aunt was deaf, -while my uncle slept like the proverbial log; both log and deaf ear -are alike, unresponsive to sound. Also, I realized that the journey -downstairs with my story would have been unprofitable (and freezing!). -I should have been sent back with a scolding and perhaps a blow. My -own little children sometimes waken in the night with some of these -vague terrors, and I have known them to run through the dark to their -mother’s bed, where they are always taken in. My old folks were not -cruel or even consciously unkind; they merely lived in an arid region -where understanding and imagination could not come. They knew nothing -of ghosts and goblins, so why should a child fear them? Darkness was -really a good thing, if one didn’t waste lamp oil. So I lay alone with -the terrors until sleep banished them. I could not see that they must be -futile, since such an unsubstantial foe as sleep could master them.</p> - -<p>Of course, thousands of grey-haired persons can recall just such -terrifying childhood situations. Usually as we grow older the memories -fade away, though they are never entirely lost; they are probably -waiting in the subconsciousness for darkness and a worried mind to bring -them forth. They are clearer to the deaf, and nearer to the surface of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 263]</span> - -consciousness; hence they are more easily roused to play their strange -tricks upon us. It seems strange to me that novelists have rather -neglected this strong emotion of fear, and it is particularly remarkable -that they have seemed to slight the mighty struggle to overcome it, -which all deaf people know.</p> - -<p>Some years ago I planned to visit a New England town to attend a college -celebration. I had never been in this particular locality before, but -I supposed I should find a large town with full hotel accommodations, -so I took a night train. At about eleven I alighted at the railroad -station, and, to my astonishment, found myself in complete darkness. -The train made but a brief stop; it hurried off like a living thing, -glad to escape from the lonely place. I watched the last glimmer of its -rear light disappear around a distant curve, and then I was completely -wrapped in a dense, inky blackness, through which I could feel the moist -fingers of a thick, creeping fog. They seemed to clutch at my face and -throat. For an instant the old wild terror seized me, and then there -came an impulse to rush through the blackness desperately—anywhere—to -escape the clinging things which seemed to be reaching for me. But I -stood still, and finally there came to me a sort of amused sense of -adventure—I remembered the night in the hotel when I wandered about the -dark passage and ran into a drunken man. The fight sobered him, and as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 264]</span> - -he led me back to my room he thanked me, for he said that his wife was -waiting up for him.</p> - -<p>Now my first thought was to locate the railroad station. That would at -least prove a starting point; but I had absolutely no idea in which -direction to start, for I could not even tell whether any buildings at -all were near. The last light on the train had traveled east, but I had -turned around several times since I watched it out of sight. I dared -not call out; I remembered the deaf man who was shot and nearly killed -under similar circumstances. Being lost in the darkness, he called for -help, not knowing that he was near a farmhouse. The farmer heard him and -pointed a gun from the window, calling:</p> - -<p>“What do you want? Stand still or I’ll fire!”</p> - -<p>The deaf man continued to advance; the farmer fired at random and shot -him down. I knew better than to call out in the darkness. I did not even -dare walk freely about, for I know of a man who in the darkness about a -railroad station ran into a mowing-machine; another became entangled in -a roll of barbed wire. These incidents stayed in my mind quite vividly, -and I will confess that I got down on my hands and knees and crawled -carefully in what I hoped was the direction of the station. Foot by foot -I crept along, and at last I came up against what I took to be a picket -fence. Then a dull light began to glow down the track. The midnight - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 265]</span> - -freight rumbled by, and its headlight showed the station behind me. I -had crossed the road in my travels, and now I slowly recrossed it. With -arms outstretched, I ran into the building. I carefully groped my way -around it, much as a blind man would have felt his way along a wall. -But he would travel with greater confidence, trusting to his ears to -warn him of approaching danger. I passed one corner and proceeded to the -other side, but suddenly there came to me a feeling that <em>someone was -near me in the dark</em>! I cannot describe the uncanny, “crawly” sensation -which envelops a deaf person when he senses an unseen presence. I -suffered acutely until I actually ran into a man who also seemed to be -feeling his way along the wall. He told me afterward that he had spoken -to me several times, but, of course, I did not answer. Happily he had no -pistol or he would have fired. As it was, each clutched the throat of -the other, and we struggled like two wild animals. I had the stronger -grip, and I think I know the vulnerable point in the throat. At any -rate, his hand dropped, and I knew from the quiver inside his throat -that he was gasping for breath.</p> - -<p>Then I told him who I was and what was my trouble. After a little -fumbling I got my hearing device into working order and held up the -mouthpiece to his month. At first he thought it was a pistol, but I -reassured him, and he told me his story. Like myself, he had come on - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 266]</span> - -the late train, expecting to find a town, and a good hotel near the -station. And it happened that he was nearly blind; he retained only part -of the sight in one eye. He told me that he had heard me walking about -in the dark and had called loudly. There we were—a man nearly blind and -a deaf man, stranded in this lonely place. If ever two human beings had -need of each other, we were the men, yet a moment before both of us were -ready to fight when co-operation was the only possible hope for us. This -is not unlike the larger struggles that go on in the world.</p> - -<p>We agreed to graft the blind man’s ears upon my eyes, and together we -made our way slowly along the road. Our hope was to start up some dog -at a farmhouse, rouse the family by any means, and plead for lodging. -Finally, far down the road I saw a moving light. I judged it to be a -lantern in the hand of a farmer going to the barn for a last look at the -cattle before retiring. I know that New England habit. So I called and -the blind man listened. The light stopped moving at my call, and a big -voice roared back:</p> - -<p>“What do you want at this time of night?”</p> - -<p>I explained as best I could, but it was hard to convince that farmer.</p> - -<p>“Too thin! I’ve heard such tales before! Stop where you are till I come -back.”</p> - -<p>The lantern moved back to the house, and we waited in the road. Soon - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 267]</span> - -three lights appeared and moved towards us. That farmer had called -up his son and the hired man, and as they moved down the road in our -direction I thought of “The Night Watch”—a fine picture I had seen -at an exhibition. The farmer carried a shotgun, the boy had an old -musket, and the hired man brandished a pitchfork. When we came within -range of the lantern, the farmer ordered us to hold up our hands while -we explained; the hired man meanwhile advanced with his pitchfork -extended as if to throw half a haycock on a wagon. These men could not -be blamed for their caution, for, as we later learned, thieves had been -busy in the neighborhood. We finally convinced the belligerents that -we were harmless. The farmer left us under the guard of the hired man -while he went to his barn and harnessed a horse. Then he carried us to -the distant town, where we routed out a sleepy landlord and ended our -adventure. But the farmer gave us a bit of homely advice.</p> - -<p>“If I was a deaf man, or if I had only half an eye, I’d stay at home -when night comes.”</p> - -<p>“But in that case you would miss a good deal of life—many adventures, -and many new friends.”</p> - -<p>“Well, maybe that’s so; I hadn’t thought of that.”</p> - -<p>He departed shaking his head over the advantages of adventurous blood, -but I think he possessed a dash of it himself.</p> - -<p>A friend of mine tells a Georgia experience of deafness and darkness. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 268]</span> - -Long after dark he reached the small town where he was to spend the -night. However black true “pitch” may be, there never was anything -darker than that portion of the atmosphere which surrounded the railroad -station as this deaf man stepped off the train. Finally a light appeared -from behind the station. It proved to be a dim lantern in the hands of a -colored man so black that his face seemed to make a shadow in the dark. -Conversation with the deaf regarding details is not satisfactory under -such conditions. The colored man held his lantern up near to his face -and talked, but his mouth was too large and open to make lip-reading -easy. The deaf man did finally grasp the fact that this agent of the -night represented the leading hotel in town. So, under his guidance my -friend found his way to an old closed carriage. The colored man hung his -lantern on a spring, roused his sleepy mule, and off they started over a -succession of humps and mud holes. Finally, after one tremendous bump, -the lonely lantern went out and the carriage halted. The deaf man could -distinguish ahead only two luminous spots of light; they were the eyes -of the mule, who, instead of running as a horse might have done, merely -looked reproachfully at his driver. The colored man had no matches, but -he drove on through the blackness, placidly trusting to the mule for -guidance. Now there are times in the life of every deaf man when he -must either aspire to philosophy or retire into insanity. My friend, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 269]</span> - -inside of that rickety carriage, smiled at the thought which entered -his mind. Ages before one of his stone age ancestors had crouched far -back on his bed of leaves, shrinking in terror at the evil spirits which -the darkness was hiding. Here he was in the silent darkness after all -the long ages, but he was serene in soul because hundreds of years of -artificial light had brought to him their message of courage and faith.</p> - -<p>The “hotel” proved to be an old-fashioned Southern mansion, rambling -and shaky, fronted by large unpainted columns which sagged a bit, -with windows that rattled and big echoing halls in which old memories -congregated. My friend was tired, and after a light supper he asked -to be taken to his room. The landlord, a grave and dignified man, who -limped a little from a wound received at Gettysburg, took up a lighted -candle and led the way to a big corner room at the back of the house on -the first floor. He put the candle and the matches down on the bureau -and then pulled out a revolver, which he placed beside the candle.</p> - -<p>“We have been having a little trouble with some of our niggers,” he -said. “They steal. Keep your windows fastened, and put your watch and -money under your pillow. If anyone should get in, fire first and inquire -afterward. That is our plan. Good-night.”</p> - -<p>This deaf man hardly knows how to fire a modern revolver. It is - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 270]</span> - -doubtful if he could come anywhere near to a barn door in sunlight, to -say nothing of the inky blackness which encompassed that house. However, -he obediently put his valuables under the pillow, placed the big -revolver carefully on the chair beside his bed, blew out the light and -retired. In such a situation it seems to me that keen, quick ears would -have been a misfortune. And this deaf man, being philosophical as well -as very weary, fell asleep before he could fully realize the surrounding -conditions.</p> - -<p>How long he slept he cannot now tell, but he suddenly woke with a start -and sat up in bed, <em>knowing</em> that someone was within a few feet of -him. I know that both the blind and the deaf have a curious faculty -of divining the presence of others in the silence of the darkness. My -friend knew that somewhere in the silent darkness human beings were -going through some stealthy performance. He reached for the revolver, -<em>but the chair upon which he had placed it was not there</em>! As quietly -as possible he groped his way to the bureau and found the matches. <em>But -it was impossible to light them.</em> He scratched at least a dozen until -they broke in two, but they would not ignite. The candle was in his -hand, but the light within, which he craved, could not be produced. -Alone in the silent blackness, a numb terror fell upon the heart of -the deaf man. He was as helpless as his remote ancestor, shrinking -into his primeval black cave. He was even in a worse situation, for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 271]</span> - -the cave man had hearing with which to note the approach of his enemy. -The modern man would not know how near was the lurking enemy until he -felt the clutching hand. He dared not cry out or grope for help through -that rambling house—the landlord had stipulated that questions be -asked <em>afterward</em>! Finally, urged on by that mysterious instinct of -the deaf, he groped his way along the hall until he reached the corner -window. This he opened, and he stood there waiting for the terror to -reveal itself. Suddenly he perceived that someone had passed close to -him through the outside darkness—he even felt a slight movement of air -as something passed by; he thought a human hand was laid on the window -sill for an instant. With eyes strained to the limit of tension and ears -quickened a little by terror, the deaf man realized that a door near -him had gently opened. Then came a dim sound and the air waves of a -struggle, and the deaf man knew that someone was creeping back past him -through the darkness. As startling as would have been a nail driven into -his heart came the thud and the shock of a quick blow on the side of the -house nearest him—a low, stifled cry penetrated even his dull ears. -Then off again crept a human form, feeling its way along the house.</p> - -<p>No, the deaf man did not dream all this. It all happened just as I -relate it. Out in that silent blackness a tragedy had been enacted. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 272]</span> - -After a time the deaf man cautiously put his hand out of the window -down toward the place where that quick blow had fallen. His reaching -fingers slowly crept down past the sill to the wooden post upon which -the house was built. There they encountered a soft, warm, sticky smear, -which coated the top of the post. The fingers did not dare to close. The -horror-stricken, lonely man held his right hand rigid and suffered one -of those crises when either philosophy or insanity must come to the aid -of the deaf. He determined to keep his mind clear. Finally he became -aware that light was coming; off in the east a crimson streak appeared -along the sky; the wind was blowing the mists away. Little by little -the light gained. The man looked at his hand, and, as he had feared, -it showed a red stain. The light grew, and he finally gained courage -to look out of the window. The post was covered with blood. There was -still visible the mark of a blow of an axe. Just back from the corner -was a small house, within which a rooster was crowing—half a dozen hens -were on their way out for the day’s wanderings. In the door of a small -cook-house in the backyard a fat colored woman was picking a Plymouth -Rock chicken. The deaf man glanced once more at the house post and saw -on the ground beside it the head of a rooster!</p> - -<p>It was a thoughtful man who washed his hands and looked about the room. -The revolver still lay on the chair where he had placed it; he had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 273]</span> - -evidently put his hand out on the wrong side of the bed. There was the -candle and there were the matches—untouched; near at hand was a <em>box of -toothpicks</em>, half of them broken in pieces, with scratches on the box.</p> - -<p>Later the deaf man sat out in the gallery, watching the sun rise, his -mind busy with strange matters as he waited for breakfast. At length the -landlord appeared.</p> - -<p>“I hope, sir, you rested well. I feared you might be disturbed. We -wanted to give you a taste of fried chicken, Georgia style, so the -nigger killed one this morning. I hope it did not disturb you, sir.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">“Grouch” Or Gentleman</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="topspace2">When a man becomes convinced that he is definitely headed for the -silence, he must make up his mind whether he is to be a grouch or a -gentleman. The word “grouch” has not yet been fully accepted by the -guardians of good English, but it seems to me one of the most expressive -words in the language. Perhaps that is because I have spent much time -in trying to escape from the condition which might probably carry this -label. The deaf man may, if he will, excel all others in playing the -part. Here is one case in which he may certainly pose as a star. It -is hardly possible for a grouch to be a gentleman, and it is quite -inconceivable that the gentleman should wish to be a grouch. Yet, if -left to himself, the deaf man will naturally come to play the part, -and it is certainly the one part in the great adventure of life which -he can handle to perfection. The grouch wraps himself in a mantle of -gloom and tries to throw the skirts of it all around his fellow-men. -The gentleman, when under the spell of affliction, struggles to light -a candle of faith and hope within him that will make his whole life -luminous as he walks among men. It costs most of us a struggle in our - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 275]</span> - -efforts to throw off depression and appear content with life, and the -struggle will be long and constant, but it is worth while, and so in -this last chapter I would like to briefly review some of the rules of -life which have come home to me during my sojourn in silence. I have -found in my own case that I paid very little attention to the rules and -regulations of the trouble, but, at any rate, those of us who have been -over the ground like to nail up the danger signal when we can.</p> - -<p>The deaf should remember that they are in a way abnormal. We cannot be -like other men. It could not well be otherwise when we realize that we -are deprived of what is perhaps the most important of the senses. It -seems to me far better to face the fact that we cannot well conceal our -handicap. Usually when we mingle with others in everyday life every -person within 100 feet of us will know sooner or later that we are deaf. -Some of the worst blunders which the deaf man can make are those which -come from pretending that he can hear. We shall receive better treatment -and be freer from disappointment if we frankly admit our handicap and -throw ourselves upon the generosity of our friends, or even of strangers.</p> - -<p>I suppose that curiosity causes more real torture to the deaf man than -anything else. Some of the deaf are exceedingly curious. They must know -what others are talking about, and they often pester their companions - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 276]</span> - -almost beyond endurance in an effort to learn all the trivial details -of small conversation. They bring themselves to believe that most -conversation going on about them refers to something in which they are -vitally interested, and in this way they come to imagine all sorts of -disagreeable things. This idle curiosity leads to endless grief and -trouble. Forget it! That brief advice is peculiarly applicable to the -deaf, for it is much harder for them to forget things than for those -whose minds are constantly diverted by sound. One of the greatest -troubles of the average deaf man is that he cannot forget the things -which annoy except by driving them out of the brain by new suggestions, -or by forcing himself to think of happier and more interesting things. -That is why every deaf person should have some harmless or interesting -hobby which he can always mount and spur into speed whenever the imps -of the silence come out of their holes. Yet, there is such a thing as -riding a hobby so hard that the rider loses his hat, and the deaf man -makes a very ridiculous John Gilpin when his hobby runs away with him.</p> - -<p>Above all things, we must believe in the loyalty and affection of our -family and companions. Remember that they are human, perhaps more so -than we are. We can easily become a nuisance to them. They may perhaps -show their annoyance for the moment, but at heart they are true, and -we should never lose faith in them, if we can possibly avoid it. I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 277]</span> - -think, too, it is a mistake to allude to our trouble as an affliction, -as too many of us are tempted to do. It is a handicap, and often a very -serious one. Yet, we may easily find people with real afflictions, -worse than ours, and we well know that we would not readily change -our identity if such a thing could be done. I find that successful -teachers of lip-reading insist that deafness should never be spoken -of as an affliction. It is a handicap, perhaps, but the surest way to -make it worse is to go about classing the deaf with afflicted people; -and the intelligent deaf scarcely, if ever, speak of those who are deaf -and dumb. That is a term to be avoided, for education or scientific -treatment is ending that condition. The entire life of the deaf, if they -hope to enjoy even ordinary happiness, must be built on the sunshine -theory; always search for the bright side. In all our life there is -nothing so destructive of character as self-pity. Far better look -about for undoubted advantages of life in the silence, and train our -rebellious spirits to work patiently under the yoke. In that way we -may easily gain new strength of character and greater power from our -trouble. I like to repeat the statement over and over that I have found -this a good world. It is well filled with kindly people, who on the -whole are ready to give every man with a handicap a fair start if they -can only be made to realize that he is willing to fight the good fight - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 278]</span> - -with cheerfulness and without complaint.</p> - -<p>I have found it well to go out among my fellow-men and take my chances -on getting through. Some people seem to think that deafness should shut -them away from travel or society. I cannot agree with that. I think we -should move about among people. It is, I grant, a peculiar sensation -at times to realize the appalling loneliness of a crowd. You stand in -groups of people, see them move about, know that they are talking and -laughing; you can reach out your hand and touch them; yet, for all that, -you are living in another world apart from them. It gives one at times -an uncanny feeling to realize such a situation, yet I think it is well -for us to seek our fellows in this way, and live among them. It gives -us opportunity for the finest study of character, and if we would only -think so, there are few things more interesting or exciting than the -attempt to locate strangers in occupation or habit by their appearance. -Some deaf people seek to hide themselves, and shun society and travel -through fear of ridicule or accident. This is, I believe, a mistake. So -long as one has eyes of reasonable strength which may be trained for -quick and close observation, it is far better for the mind and spirit -to get out among men. When you go on a journey, always plan to carry a -flashlight lantern and an abundant supply of paper and pencils. You are -quite sure at some point of your travels to find yourself in darkness - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 279]</span> - -along the way, and there is little hope for the deaf man in the dark. -Unless you are expert at lip-reading, my advice would be to insist upon -having the message written out. With the very deaf attempts to make them -hear or to communicate by signs are little better than wide guesses. -In all my experiences I have never found but two people who refused -to write the information when I called for it. One was an impatient, -selfish man, and the other a woman, who evidently feared that certain -young men would laugh at her if she made herself conspicuous with a -deaf man. In one of these cases a bystander, seemingly ashamed of the -discourtesy shown me, volunteered to help me, and was ready to fight -the man who had refused. Oh, I shall have to repeat it once more! I -have found this a good world to live in. It is filled with people who -at heart are kindly and sympathetic. Many of the fancied rebuffs which -we experience are due to the fact that people do not understand how to -communicate with us. Above all things, the deaf man should never lose -his nerve. He should always believe that he is the favorite “child of -fate,” sure to come through every obstacle. Then let him go bravely and -confidently on his way, supremely sure that he will be cared for.</p> - -<p>The problem of occupation is the vital one for the deaf. What can we do -to earn a living when our hearing fails? There is without question a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 280]</span> - -prejudice against the deaf which it is hard to overcome. We who live in -the silence cannot quite understand why people seem to fear us, and are -evidently uncomfortable when we come near. We are as harmless as anyone, -and we are capable of giving good service, but we realize only too well -that society in general seems to class us among the undesirables. I know -of one woman who is struggling to support and educate two children. She -is an admirable cook, good housekeeper, clean, quick and efficient, yet -no one wants to employ her because she is deaf. One would think that -her condition would be something of an advantage in a household where -there are family secrets to be kept. But, no matter how capable this -woman may be, most people seem afraid to employ her. The fact is that -the condition of deafness is a distinct advantage in many cases—for -example, the faithful deaf helper will not be liable to change -frequently. He will stay by his employer, yet most deaf people come face -to face with prejudice which society shows them.</p> - -<p>I know of a clergyman who filled his pulpit acceptably until deafness -drove him from it. One might think without bitterness that a man of -God with a trouble of this sort might in his daily life come closer to -what his people need, but his congregation would not have it so, and -he was retired. For some years the old man lived in the town, sawing -and splitting wood for a living. The woodpile he built was a sermon on -neatness and honest labor, and he went happily on through life. Someone - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 281]</span> - -asked him how he could be cheerful at such labor, and his answer was: -“I put joy in my job.” There are deaf men in all walks of life. Some -are highly successful as teachers, editors, salesmen, watchmen and -other lines where one would suppose that perfect hearing is more than a -necessity. In general a deaf man must take the work that comes to him. -He cannot always choose, but he can usually dignify any job, and excel -at it if he will keep his courage and put his mind to it. He should -remember that spirit of the old minister who, when retired from his -pulpit, took up the saw and axe, and was cheerful because he put joy in -the job.</p> - -<p>The moving picture show is a wonderful help to the deaf. Here he is on -terms of equality with all men. In this remarkable world of the movies, -where the villain is always punished and the virtuous always emerge -with roses and a crown, the deaf man may find much of that optimism -which seems like an electric light to the soul. It is the height of -enjoyment for him to see pictures illustrating some favorite book thrown -on the screen, and that enables him to make a mental comparison with -his own conception of the characters in the story. The fact is that -the life of the ambitious deaf is one long effort to keep cheerful -and bright-minded, and thus steer away from depression. To that end -he should soak his mind with all possible poetry and humor and good - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 282]</span> - -literature. In fact, let him take in anything that will frame pleasant -pictures on the walls of his mind, and it is a blessing ranking close to -a godsend to be able to sleep when other aids in the struggle against -depression fail. There will surely come times after the work has been -laid aside when all the wakeful philosophy will fail to keep the spirit -bright. Then the ability to lie down and sleep becomes a genuine -heavenly gift; for in sleep the head noises and troubles are forgotten, -when we may even hear music and voices of friends. And do you know -that in that thought lies one of the most curious and pathetic things -connected with the life of the deaf? We wonder just how the voices of -wife and son or friends actually sound. In real fact they may croak like -ravens or scream like a door that needs oiling, but to us in imagination -they are musical and full of sympathy. I think that of all the curious, -mysterious things which come to us in this world of silence there is -nothing sadder or more remarkable than this unsatisfied desire to listen -to the actual tones which ring in the voices of those we love.</p> - -<p>It is without doubt true that the deaf are closer to subconscious -thought than those who have perfect hearing. It seems to be easier for -us to go back to childhood or to raise into the mind memories of other -days. It often becomes a wonder to me that old friends forget so many of -the scenes and sayings of youth. I presume they have more to distract - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 283]</span> - -their attention. It seems to me that the useless or trivial conversation -which most people indulge in must in time dilute or distort memory and -drive away the pictures of youth. With the deaf these pictures seem -to grow clearer with each year, and this, I take it, is one of the -compensations which accompany the trouble. For as we march along the -road and reach a hill from which we begin to see the end, I think it -must be a lonely road which those must travel who have forgotten the -pictures and companions of their youth. It is practically impossible for -the deaf to weep as others do. They are for the most part denied what I -may call the healing balm of tears, unless there can occur some great -shock, some volcanic eruption of emotion which breaks down the dam and -lets in the flood upon a dry desert of lonely years. But the deaf man -who has kept his mind cleanly occupied and his spirit bright may find in -happy memories a joy of life which others rarely know.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 284]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Sometimes when night pulls down the shade after a weary day,</div> - <div class="verse">I sit beside my open fire and watch the shadows play.</div> - <div class="verse">Then memory takes me by the hand, and happily we go</div> - <div class="verse">Back to the kindly days of youth—when I was Mary’s beau.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Oh! Mary! In those golden years, when you and I were young,</div> - <div class="verse">When all the symphonies of youth by hopeful lips were sung,</div> - <div class="verse">When every avenue of life led out to rosy skies,</div> - <div class="verse">And fortune’s fingers dangled there the gifts that all men prize!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Old Time is kind. He hides the years which bear the loss and stain,</div> - <div class="verse">And only those which shine with love and happiness remain.</div> - <div class="verse">As one may find a violet beneath the Winter’s snow,</div> - <div class="verse">I go back to the kindly years—when I was Mary’s beau.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I was a chunky farmer boy—her father lord of lands.</div> - <div class="verse">She was a little village queen—I only had my hands.</div> - <div class="verse">Yet in the pure democracy of our New England town</div> - <div class="verse">Youth never could be quite denied—love beat the barriers down.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Yet she was wise—to reign a queen—one must keep step with wealth.</div> - <div class="verse">And Mary knew full well that I had nothing but my health.</div> - <div class="verse">To me she played a sister’s part—but settled down with Joe,</div> - <div class="verse">I went out West with but a dream that I was Mary’s beau. -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 285]</span></div> - -</div><div class="stanza"> - - <div class="verse">I’ve journeyed East, I’ve journeyed West—I’ve had my hour of life.</div> - <div class="verse">I’ve lingered in the pleasant ways—I’ve faced the storm and strife.</div> - <div class="verse">Fame, wealth, have missed me and yet they will envy me I know,</div> - <div class="verse">Those days back in the golden years—when I was Mary’s beau.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">No, no, dear wife, deny me not these fair old dreams of youth,</div> - <div class="verse">You well may smile, for life has taught the patience and the truth.</div> - <div class="verse">Time tried, long tested, up the hill we’ve journeyed side by side,</div> - <div class="verse">Or drifted in the ebb and flow of fortune’s fateful tide.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">The years may come, the years may go, yet love will find the test.</div> - <div class="verse">Youth’s dreams are good, yet that which lives on life’s hard road is best,</div> - <div class="verse">And so you grant me my romance—perhaps I do not know,</div> - <div class="verse">You, too, are thinking of the days when you were Henry’s beau.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">And so I sit beside the fire when night pulls down the blind,</div> - <div class="verse">And wander back to youth once more with all my cares behind.</div> - <div class="verse">The winds of trouble rage outside, we care not how they blow,</div> - <div class="verse">Back in those golden days of youth—when I was Mary’s beau.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="transnote"> -<p><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes.</span></p> - -<p> 1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical - errors.</p> -</div> -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures in Silence, by -Herbert Winslow Collingwood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES IN SILENCE *** - -***** This file should be named 61918-h.htm or 61918-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/1/61918/ - -Produced by ellinora, Brian Wilsden and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/61918-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/61918-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 742bb0c..0000000 --- a/old/61918-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null |
