their sakes are training teachers to carry on the work, there are,
in almost every home that shelters a little deaf child, blunders
being made that will retard his development and hinder your work
for years to come--blunders that a little timely advice might
prevent. We parents are not willfully ignorant, not always stupidly
so; but that we are in most cases densely so, there can be no
doubt.

"Can you for the moment put yourselves into our place? Suppose you
are just the ordinary American parents, perhaps living far from the
center of things. You know in a hazy way that there are deaf and
blind and other afflicted people--perhaps you have seen some of
them.

"Now, into your home comes disease or a sudden awakening to the
meaning of existing conditions, and you find that _your_ child is
_deaf_.

"At first your thought is of physicians; they fail you. Advice from
friends and advertisements from quacks pour in upon you; still you
find no comfort and no help.

"You stop talking to the child. What is the use? He cannot hear
you! You pity him--oh, infinitely! And your pity takes the form of
indulgence. You love him and you long to understand him; but you
cannot interpret him and he feels the change, the helplessness in
your attitude toward him. You try one thing after another,
floundering desperately in your effort to discover what radical
step must be taken to meet this emergency. After a time you seize
upon the idea that seems to you the best. Probably it is to wait