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.
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.