When I was little and playing with my brothers, I did not always do
what they wanted. So they'd sometimes say, "We'll put him in Coventry,
then he'll do it." They did not really _put_ me anywhere. They simply
would not speak to me or answer anything I said. It was just as if I
were entirely alone. Of course it was a quick way to make me ready to
take my part in the game again.

How do you think you would feel if you never, never could speak to
anyone, and no one could speak to you? What a quiet world we'd have!
Almost every day I meet a boy who can't hear and can't speak. How does
he ask for things? He makes letters and spells words with his fingers,
and his friends watch his fingers and read what he says. Is that the
way you do? "No, indeed," you say, "I talk." "What do you talk with?"
"I talk with my mouth." Yes, that's true enough; but if you did not
use something besides your mouth, you'd never make a sound.

Where does the sound come from? Feel gently with your finger and thumb
along the front of your neck. Do you find something harder than the
rest of your throat? That is the large tube called your _windpipe_. Do
you feel a ridge sticking out from this? Now sing or talk a little.
You can feel the ridge move up and down, and the sound thrill in it.
That is where the sound comes from. That is your voice-and-music box,
or _larynx_.

You have seen the little red rubber balloons, haven't you? You blow
into them until they are big and round; and then, when you take your
mouth away, out comes the air, making a squawking or whistling sound.
Now, if you look closely at the mouthpiece, you see a tiny piece of
rubber tied across it. The air rushing past this rubber is what makes