1236 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
September 27, 1924 
Hope Farm Notes 
You will remember that last week we 
were discussing the failure of many in¬ 
telligent people to understand the lan¬ 
guage of common things. This failure to 
understand often leads to both comedy 
or tragedy, and is responsible for much 
of the sorrow and failure in the world. 
I have come to think that the man with 
the most useful education is not the one 
who has studied most books, but he who 
has most of that kindly, understanding 
sympathy which permits him to under¬ 
stand what I may call the human lan¬ 
guage. While I was writing this the 
three little girls came tearing in to tell 
of their great adventures. School has 
begun, and these little students want 
me to know just how they are graded in 
their march up the steep hill of learning. 
As they cannot make me hear well they 
must resort to sign language. So little 
Camille holds up one linger to show that 
she is in the first grade. Rita can hold 
up two fingers, while Rose is proud to 
exhibit her entire hand—four fingers and 
a thumb representing fifth grade ! Rose 
had not really finished the full fourth 
grade, but the teacher gave her a chance 
to keep up with the other little girls, and 
all Rose wants is a chance. She evi¬ 
dently wants to communicate something 
of great importance. I cannot get her 
words or read those little lips correctly, 
so the girls all try sign language. After 
some thought they gave a very good im¬ 
itation of combing the hair with a fine¬ 
toothed comb and then hold up their 
little hands 10 times—which surely dis¬ 
plays 100 fingers and thumbs. Now 
what would you make out of that? If 
you were to be hung unless you solved 
the riddle would you go to the gallows? 
It could not be that there were 100 dis¬ 
coveries as a result of the combing. What 
then? It was too much for me, so Rose 
as interpreter for the party gets a sheet 
of paper. Hanging on a little black rib¬ 
bon around her neck is a small fountain 
pen. Of all the emblems or trophies of 
victory which men and women have ever 
worn, I presume none is more glorious 
in the mind of the wearer than the first 
pen or pencil which proves that the wearer 
has entered the glorious ranks of those 
who can communicate by means of the 
written word. You should notice the 
pride with which little Rose opens her 
fountain pen and laboriously writes her 
message: 
“What do you think? T got 100 on my 
examination in arithmetic to-day! ’ 
I could not grade this little note at 
100 if I noted the mistakes in spelling, 
and does not that first sentence violate 
one of the rules of rhetoric? “Avoid 
redundancy” said my old professor—but 
these three little students look at me as if 
to sav : 
“SVe want you to understand that, one 
of our group is a champion—and if the 
other two were far enough along for an 
examination there would be two more 
100 marks!” 
And now you may see that the sign 
language was perfect too. Isn’t the op¬ 
eration of a fine-toothed comb an “ex¬ 
amination?” When you hold up both 
hands with the fingers spread out 10 
times—isn’t that 100? What about it? 
I am the dull one. At any rate this is 
an event worth celebrating and with Rose 
on one knee and Rita and Camille on the 
other we make my big chair crack and 
groan a little as we sit here together. I 
think it will pay us to eat a peach or 
two, and very likely I can find a piece of 
chocolate in my pocket. Rose has be¬ 
gun her cooking experience by making 
some “butterscotch.” It was “scotched” 
or scorched a little—but what do we care 
for that when one of the group can get 
100 in arithmetic? I never got anywhere 
near 100 in my day’s work! 
* * * * * 
After the children skipped off to bed 
to dream of coming 100 marks, there 
came to mind the story of my old friend 
Joe Strong and his strange adventure 
in understanding. Joe was a deaf man, 
and as such should have known better 
than to go tramping off into strange 
neighborhoods alone. Rut when a man 
has an adventurous spirit by nature, an 
affliction seems somehow to lead him on 
into paths which he ought to avoid. I 
imagine this is because the blind or the 
deaf are too apt to settle back into very 
drab or monotonous lives unless they 
constantly attempt the impossible, and 
thus keep their spirit unchained. That’s 
the ^oint exactly. The great struggle 
for those who are afflicted or those who 
are passing beyond maturity is to keep 
the chains off the spirit. Very likely 
some of you have read Hugh Conway’s 
“Called Back”—a sensational story called 
cheap and trashy by many. A blind man 
in London, weary and discouraged by 
inactivity, escapes his watchers and goes 
out in the street at night for exercise. 
He wanders aimlessly about, counting his 
steps so as to bring himself back home 
in time. He mistakes his count and 
gets into a house where some fearful 
tragedy is being enacted. He heart: hut 
cannot see! Joe Strong was not eontenc 
to remain close to those who could make 
him understand. He needed adventure— 
and he had plenty of it. One Summer he 
went with his wife on a vacation. They 
stopped at a hotel in a wild mountain 
region. Joe’s wife was happy at the 
hotel. The small talk, competition in 
dress, tennis and genteel laziness suited 
her, but Joe was like a wild bird in a 
cage. He wanted life of some sort. The 
dark narrow mountain roads tempted 
him, so one day he shouldered a little 
knapsack, took his stick and struck out 
into the country alone. His wife tried to 
dissuade him, yet she understood some¬ 
thing of what was in his mind, and long 
experience had convinced her that there 
seems to be some special Providence to 
care for deaf and blind men. So Joe 
tramped off into the solitude fully at 
home in the silence. He had his lunch 
beside a mountain spring, and a little 
nap under a pine. Then he walked on 
again aimlessly. In such situations men 
forget their surroundings and become 
absorbed in their thought. You think of 
curious things as you tramp on through 
the silence until suddenly some strong 
material fact precipitates self out of the 
solution and you come back to earth. 
Joe suddenly realized that shadows were 
forming under the pine trees and in the 
little hollows. The sun was nearly at the 
upper edge of the Western hills. Night 
was coming rapidly, as it does in these 
mountains, and he was far from the 
hotel. In fact he had wandered on so 
aimlessly that he was lost. The deaf do 
not concern themselves greatly with such 
troubles. They go ahead, and Joe, hunt¬ 
ing for some adventure to put new fire 
into his spirit, went on along the road 
through the gathering darkness. 
***** 
The twilight was grouping thickly 
about him when on turning a corner in 
the winding road he saw ahead of him 
the lights of a farmhouse. It was a com¬ 
fortable looking house. You know that 
one can somehow tell by the quality of 
the light shining from the kitchen and 
sitting-room windows whether it. comes 
from the abode of happiness and joy or 
misery and meanness. There may be a 
finer welcome from the light of a kero¬ 
sene lamp than from a great battery of 
strong electric lights if there be home 
love in the oil. Joe sensed the welcome 
in this light, so he pushed open the gate 
and walked up to the door. Well, per¬ 
haps you know what it means to have a 
strange deaf man come walking out of the 
darkness up to the door of a lonely farm¬ 
house. There are so many tramps and 
strangers about that the women are fear¬ 
ful. Then who can blame the deaf man 
for being a little suspicious, too? But 
Joe was a good salesman and he could 
sell a good impression of himself. The 
farmer had gone to market—to be absenr 
all night. Mother and the children were 
there, and the school teacher. In the 
corner by the stove sat grandfather, an 
old white-haired man, while a sinister- 
looking hired man was filling the wood 
box. In truth this man was as harmless 
as a child, but a peculiar cast in his eye 
somehow twisted the upper part of his 
face into a scowl. You see how difficult 
it is for a deaf man, especially when the 
light is dim, to estimate character ac¬ 
curately. You must listen to the human 
voice before you can be sure. Thus Joe 
in the rather dim light saw this great 
black-haired man peering at him over 
an armful of wood as he came in at the 
door. That twitched eye contorted the 
hired man’s face so that it seemed to 
Joe that some highwayman was medi¬ 
tating murder, or at least robbery—when 
in fact the hiret^ man was trying as best 
he could to express his deep sympathy. 
Old grandfather had two good tests of 
character to apply to strangers. He 
watched the baby and the dog. The lit¬ 
tle girl stood in front of Joe as if study¬ 
ing him. Children are supposed to be 
unsophisticated and easily influenced, yet 
in fact they are the truest and shrewdest 
judges of character. Joe had a way with 
children, and on his invitation the child 
after a moment’s hesitation, came and 
sat on his knee. Grandfather considered 
this a good reaction as far as it went, but 
the dog test was better, for old Jack was 
not easily deceived. At a word from 
grandfather the big dog arose from his 
mat and walked slowly over where he 
could get a good look at Joe. Now, you 
may believe me or not, but the deaf and 
the blind and some with other serious 
handicaps often acquire, without realiz¬ 
ing it, a curious, instinctive power which 
enables them to gain the confidence of 
children and animals. I cannot explain 
it. I do not know where it comes from, 
but I know that, in some way, it actually 
exists. When Jack first stood before Joe 
his hair bristled and his entire attitude 
was that of a dog that had one idea in 
mind : 
“You may be all right, but it is my 
duty to assume that you are all wrong 
until I am convinced.” 
lie stood and eyed Joe for a moment. 
The man spoke to him, patted his knee 
and said: “Come on. Jack!” Slowly 
the bristling hair smoothed down. The 
tense muscles relaxed and the dog wagged 
his tail and came to put his head against 
Joe’s knee. It was a full test of char¬ 
acter. You never could deceive both 
Jack and the baby. Joe was an accepted 
guest. That hired man stopped with his 
second armful of wood to smile a wel¬ 
come—though to Joe, as he sat beside 
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