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44 Mary St. Cloud Belches A Family History [THE FOLLOWING “ower true tale” was forwarded to us by Mr. MacIntire, Principal of the Indiana Institution for the Deaf and Dumb; and may best be introduced to our readers by quoting a portion of his letter. “Dear Sir:—Enclosed please find a brief narrative of the early life of Miss Mary StC. Belches, a recent graduate of this Institution, which I send you for publication in the “Annals,” if you think it worthy. In justice to Miss B., I must say that the sketch was not written for publication, but at the request of her teacher,—and now, at my solicitation, she consents to have it sent to you,—with the hope that it will illustrate in some measure the efficiency and adaption of our system of instruction in benefiting the large class of deaf and dumb found in our country, to which she belongs, who, although having learned in some measure, the use of speech, yet becoming deaf before receiving an education, are by their infirmity shut out from the ordinary means of instruction. She lost her hearing at ten years of age, and by a seven years’ course of instruction by means of signs, has attained unto a degree of knowledge and intellectual and moral culture seldom found in young ladies of her age. At present Miss B. is engaged in giving instruction in a private family, to the daughter of a wealthy gentleman in this State.—Editor.] Narrative, by Miss B. Dear Sir:— In compliance with your request, I will now endeavor to give you some account of my past history. My Grandfather John B., was the youngest son of a landed proprietor in Gallowayshire, Scotland; his father’s estate being small, he had little to depend upon but his own exertions. At that period in Scotland the army was considered the most honorable profession for young men of gentility, and according to the prejudice of the times my grandfather became a soldier. A few years after his marriage he was taken ill with fever, and died; my father was then about two years old. On the death of her husband, my grandmother returned to her relations in the Isle of Skye; there she resided with her mother and brother, Col. D. McL. My father was brought up by his uncle. He wished, like his father, to be a soldier, but his mother being opposed to it, he ultimately entered the counting-house of a merchant in Grangemouth, a small seaport in Sterlingshire; here “A Family History” is from American Annals of the Deaf and Dumb 8, no. 4 (July 1856). A Family History 45 he first met with my mother, whose father was captain of a vessel of that port. After his marriage, my parents removed to London where they resided several years, my father being cashier to Messrs. M. & B., insurance brokers; after the dissolution of the firm, by the death of Mr. M., he embarked a considerable part of his savings in a mining company which had been started in Wales; the speculation proved a failure, and he lost about £3,000. After this he returned with his family to Scotland; on the voyage home my sister Margaret, then five years old took the whooping-cough; and was very ill; she recovered but with the loss of her sight. On arriving at Glasgow my father entered into partnership with a merchant, who a short time after departed secretly to America; on examining the books, it was found that he had embezzled the funds of the firm to a large amount, and taken with him all the available capital; this was of course followed by a failure of the business. This misfortune happened when I was a mere child. We afterward resided in Edinburgh, where my father was employed as a book-keeper in the office of the Evening Post. My two brothers, Donald and John, went to sea, and in the course of a few years my father concluded to remove to the U.S. After the necessary preparations we left Scotland; I was then eleven years old and well remember the day we left our native shore; it was in spring, but dark clouds obscured the sky, and thick mists veiled the summits of the distant mountains, but as the vessel sailed down the Clyde the sun burst from the clouds, scattering the gloom and dispersing the mists, revealing to our eyes once more our...

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