Evening star., 1915-07-25

has during the past four months Gre
ated a second Lighted Hearth" OF the
blind community under his direction In
Paris. for he has filled IT with the ra-
dance of hope where hope there was
none.
The first three days I spent her.
his work. were passed In the midst OF
sort Of earthly purgatory. 1 have
never before seen so much thorough
going misery foregathered in a single
long hours of the days. nursing their
bitterness. The stiffness of the nights
was broken often and often by their
hoarse sobs as they lay in torture on
AT that time our workshops were
not ready. and I was in despair to
know what to do with the men. But
the end of my difficulties came unex-
history here I discovered that our in
structor in the Braille system OF read
ing and writing-himself blind man
had learned the trade of a brush
maker. He said he could teach a man
to make a brush, after a rough fash
ion. in a few hours.
II seized the opportunity eagerly.
found the tools and materials for the
experiment. and. selecting purposely
the most Respondent man in the fnsti-
tuition. set him to work on brush
under the direction of the BrailIe In
structor. The result was that that
man came to me, before the day was
over, cured Of his melancholy.
"T am saved" he told me. I am able
to do something in life again! That is
all I ask.
Shortly every other unfortunate had
heard his story. The psychological ef-
feet was instantaneous. From that
the cheering influence of hope. No
sooner had they become aware of the
tremendous fact that they We're still
good for something in the world than
they took heart.
Half Of our task here is psycholoe-
ical. Our work consists Just as much
in building up the mems courage as in
giving them trades and professions.
One of our greatest cares is to teach
the blind soldier to forget his misfor-
tune. We never permit the word
blind to be used within the precincts
Of the institution. Nor do we make the
mistake of lavishing sympathy and
coincidence on gloomy newcomers. But
rather. we try to help each man to
laugh away his sorrow. Work is our
best aid. We seek at once to divert the
mems minds by setting them to a task
to perform. This course of treatment
has never yet failed.
I'VE made the mistake at first of try
ing recreation. concerts. games, lee
lures But we quickly discovered that
the men deserted everything in favor
of work. They would rather make
brushes and baskets or cane chairs
than listen to the finest music we could
games and lectures. We found the
psychological value OF work superior
to that of any other diversion we could
devise.
let % fhA -
convalescent home proves the worth
Of the methods described by NJ
Emard. In one room a dozen blind men
sit busily weaving cane seats into the
from a nearby furniture factory. and
the weavers, new as they are to the
trade. are already being paid for their
work. A nurse and a blind Instructor
as they ply their long bodkins: they
talk critically Of the war situation:
they banter each other happily. They
are literally made men" already-and
they know 1t.
In another corner of the same work
shop a handful of former trench war
riors is turning our very passable
willow baskets which will shortly be
sold to provision merchants in the big
Partisan markets at Les Halles." The
proceeds will revert to the pockets OF
the blind workmen and keep them in
tobacco for fortnight.
-
Other professions, too, are rapidly
developing new -votaries among the
blind soldiers. A professor from a
Partisan music school holds a class in
piano tuning three times weekly:
there is daily class In massage; type
writing and stenography are being
taught to a score OF clerically inclined
inmates. and every blind soul in the in
stitution is undergoing speedy fnitia-
ton into the mysteries Of reading with
the finger-tips by the Braille system OF
raised type.
Many, too, are making progress as
performers on the violin, the piano, the
flute and the mandolin, although moro
with the idea of keeping their hands
and brains occupied than with any hope
of shaping for themselves a musical ca
reer. Under the head of recreation also,
lace-making, of a rude sort, forms an
other of their occupations for passing
off an empty hour in the long day.
Every morning regularly the blind
into the lecture hall provided for such
occasions and listen intently to the
reading of the daily communiques from
the fighting lines or to any other
from their comrades in the trenches.
Late every afternoon. when work is
over and their hands are idle. they
locate their particular coteries of
friends and clutter off. group by group,
with tapping canes feeling their uncer-
tain way before them. to a favorite
bench or corner in the beautiful old
seventeenth century gardens.
There they await the supper gong,
some in making rude lace. some in lis
tening to simple tunes picked out on a
battered mandolin, some in playing a
quiet game of ''piquet" with greasy
-lo INA IL
by holes punched with a pin. and some
who give them the news from the
evening papers or read to them from
much-relished French classics.
So the blind soldiers of the French
republic pass their apprenticeship in
the school OF darkness.
But the apprenticeship must come to
an end. The convalescent home has ac-
commodations for only 800 blind, and
estimate says that the war will take a
toll of at least 5000 pairs OF eyes be-
fore peace terms are finally signed So
room has constantly to be made for the
despairing newcomers, who are to be
trained into happiness and efficiency
again, and those who are inmates OF
the home today must be sent out with
the utmost haste to take their places
in the world tomorrow. Yet they can
not simply pass through the front door.
n