The Deaf Mute Howls

9. ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL

ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL I WAS FORTUNATE in having had for my father an artist-a lithographer to be exact. He took me out of school when I was sixteen, which is five years earlier than is usually allotted to a pupil for graduation . I am certain it was this step that saved me from becoming a confirmed dummy, because the older one grows, the harder it is for him to change acquired habits. But my father did not take me from school because he mistrusted the system. He simply decided that I could not begin any too soon to learn drawing and painting, for he desired me to become a painter ofpictures. He put me in the studio ofan Italian artist and also had me attend Cooper's Union in New York. A year later, I entered the studio of the great H. Humphrey Moore. To me it was indeed a strange world. I could not have felt more different if I had been magically transported to another planet. After some intimate association with hearing people, mosdy art students, I began to perceive that I was different from them in endless ways. At first I was positive I was right, and they dead wrong. I was stubborn in adhering to the odd ways of thinking and acting that I had acquired while at school. I wondered, with a sinking heart, why I was shunned and left severely alone. I had to go through much pondering before I realized it was I who was at fault-that I was a thorough going dummy in my habits, behavior, ideas, language, character, oudook on life-all of which made me repulsive to my new acquaintances. It was the perseverance of my family, who had by this time THE DEAF MUTE HOWLS learned enough ofthe manual alphabet to talk with me, that helped me to mend my ways. But it proved a slow process, for I had to unlearn what I had been taught and acquired at school, and it is human nature for one to cling tenaciously to early acquired prejudices and habits. Frankly, I rejoice that I left school while very young, while my mind was still flexible enough to absorb new and better influences. The known effect of childhood impressions on later life should convince the serious minded of the need of the right schooling for the deaf. As I manifested signs of talent in my art work, some rich relatives sent me to Europe for intensive study. There I lived for three full years without meeting a single deaf-mute. I did not purposely avoid them. I merely did not seek them out; and I never missed their company. On the third day after my arrival in Paris, Iwas sauntering along the beautiful Avenue des Champs-Elysees. My eye caught the sign "Restaurant Ledoyen." Without further ado I strolled inside. With cheerful nonchalance I ordered a sumptuous repast, including a full quart botde ofheady old wine. As was to be expected, the fumes went to my head, and all objects around me swam and floated giddily. Finally I gesticulated to my waiter to make out my bill. My gestures attracted the attention of a fine looking, pordy, black-bearded man sitting at a table just behind mine. He beckoned my waiter and asked him if I were a deaf-mute. Upon receiving the latter's affirmative nod, he walked over and seated himselfat my table. At first he spoke orally. I shook my head, and pointed to my ear-the sign a deaf man usually makes to indicate his impediment. "Parlez-vous francais?" spelt he on his fingers. I again shook my head. 'i\re you English?" I shook my head emphatically, and spelled on my fingers, ''I'm an American!" "So am I." He laughed and shook my hand. Then, he gave me 37 Dreaming, painted by Albert Ballin THE DEAF MUTE HOWLS his card. I could not read the fine print, it was too blurred by the alcoholic fumes in my head. I nodded gravely as ifl understood and put it in my vest pocket. Then I handed him my card. After some desultory conversation through which I fumbled foolishly, I begged his pardon for my appearance, remarking that I was not accustomed to European climate. "Yes, I can see that plainly enough;' he laughed. I tried to rise, but my legs wobbled, and I sank...