The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-02-27

| fused.
 "No no, madamoilselle!" he protest ed. Truly, I thought it was an M. |"
 ALL LOST TO HIM
 He laughed guiltily. The laugh shook you. You saw all that he could never see; inside the room the great ladies and latest American countesses, eager to help forgetful of self, full of won- | derful, womanly sympathy and outside 1 the Place de la Concorde. the gardens i of the Tuilleries, the trees of the Champs Elysees, the sun getting behind the gilded dome of the Invalides. 1 All these were lost to him, and yet as he sat in the darkness, because he 1 could not tell an N from an M, he laughed, and laughed happily From where did he draw his strength and l courage? Was it the instinct for life i that makes a drowning man fight ] against an ocean? Was it his training as an officer of the Grande Armee? Was l it that spirit of the French that is the one thing no German knows and no 1 German can ever break? Or was it 1 the sound of woman's voice, and the l touch of woman's hand? If the read 1 CT wants to contribute something to l help teach a new profession to these gentlemen, who in the fight for civil | lZdllOn nave COHLTlpuLeu lnGlF 0y6SlBnJ, write to the secretary of the commit tee, Mrs Cooper Hewitt, Hotel Ritz, l Paris.
 SOME WORK IN LONDON
 What is going forward at the Crillon for blind French officers is being car ~ied on in London at St Dunstans. Re- gents Park for blind Tommies. At this school the classes are much larger than are those in Paris, the pupils more numerous and they live and sleep on the premises The premises are very beautiful. They consist of IT acres of gardens, lawns, trees, lake and a stream on which you can row and swim, situated in Regents park, and almost in the heart of London.
 In the days when London was farther away the villa of St. Dunstans be- 'Onged to the eccentric Marquis of Hertford, the wicked Lord Steyne of Thackeray's Vanity Fair" It was a country estate. Now the city has closed in around it, but it is still a country estate with ceilings by the Brothers Adam, portraits by Romney, sideboards by Sheraton and on the lawn, sheep.
 To keep sheep in London is as expen-
 sive as to keep race horses and to own a country estate in London can be af- forded only by Americans.
 The estate next to St. Dunstan's is
 owned by an American lady. I used
 to play lawn tennis there with her hus-
 band. Had it not been for the horns
 of the taxicabs we might have been a
 hundred miles from the nearest rail-
 road. Instead we were so close to Ba- ker street that one false step would
 have landed us in Madame Tousseaux's.
 When the war broke out the husband
 ceased hammering tennis balls and
 hammered German ships of war. He
 sank several; and is now waiting im- l natiently outside of WilhelmshaVen :. | fnI
 St. Dunstans also is owned by an 3 American, MT. Otto Kahn, the banker.
 In peace times in the winter months, MT.
 Kahn makes it possible for the people I of New York to listen to gooo music at the Metropolitan opera house. When war
 came at his country place in London ! he made it next to possible for the blind
 to see. He gave the key of the estate to MT. C. Arthur Pearson. He also gave him permission, in altering St. Dun-
 stan's, to meet the needs of the blind to go as far as he liked
 GREAT EXECUTION
 | When I first knew Arthur Pearson he and LCrd Northcliffe were making riva collections of newspapers and magazines They collected them as other people col l lect postal cards and cigar bands. Pear. | son was then, as he is now, a man oi the most remarkable executive ability of keen intelligence, of untiring nervous | N then that he was going blind. And wher the darkness came, he accepted the bur den; not only his own, but he took upor his shoulders the burden of all the blinC l in England. He organized the natioa | institute for those who could not see He gave them of his energy, which has | not diminished, he gave them of hi. fortune, which happily for them has moi | diminished, he gave them his time hi intelligence. If you ask what the time of blind man is worth, go to St. Dun stan's and you will find out. lou vii see a home and school for blind men run by blind man. The same efficiency | knowledge of detail, intolerance of idle | ness. the same generous appreciation Of the work of others, that he put into running the Express and Standard. hs now exerts at St. Dunstan's. It hal Pearson written all over it just as { mile away there is a building covered with the name of Selfridge, and cathe dral with the name of Christophel | Wrenn. When I visited him in his room at St. Dunstan's he was standing witt his back to the open fire dictating to ;
 stenographer He called to me cheer.ly caught my hand, and showed me wher, I was to sit. All the time he was look ing straight at me, and firing questions When did you leave Salonika? Hoy many troops have we landed? Our posi-
 tions are very strong, aren't they?" III He told the stenographer she need no wait, and of an appointment he hat which she was not to forget. Before sh,
 reached the door he remembered tw, more things she was not to forget. Tn, telephone rang, and still talking he walk ed brisSly around sofa avoided a tabl, and an arm chair, and without fumblin. picked up the instrument What he heart was apparently very good news. H laughed deligntedly, saying That's fine That's splendidl"
 A secretary opened the door. and trie'