BELED.

The
WILLIAM L.
CLEMENTS
LIBRARY
The University of Michigan



Celia
Trake


THE
MIND UNVEILED;
OR,
A BRIEF HISTORY OF TWENTY-TWO
Imbecile Children
"THERE IS A SPIRIT IN MAN, AND THE INSPIRATION OF THE ALMIGHTY GIVETH
THEM UNDERSTANDING.”
PHILADELPHIA:
U. HUNT & SON, No. 62 NORTH FOURTH STREET.
1858.

HENRY B. ASHMEAD, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER,
George Street above Eleventh.

TO
MISS D. L. DIX,

THE
FAITHFUL FRIEND
OF OUR INSTITUTION,
THIS LITTLE VOLUME
IS
RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
BY
The Author.
3

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE.
Our Household Pets
13
BECKIE
15
BESSIE
25
CHAPTER II.
Blighted by Disease
29
GEORGIE
ib.
JAMES OR JIMMIE
34
CHAPTER III.

Two Low Cases
37
EDWARD
ib.
ABRAM
42
CHAPTER IV.
A Boy that we are proud of.
48
GRUBB
ib.
1*

vi
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
PAGE.
Our Sewing Girls
61
ELLEN
ib.
FRANCES.
62
LIZZIE
65
SARAH
67
CHAPTER VI.
four Low Cases
忍
​ANNA
ib.
SALLIE
75
MARY
77
ANNIE
78
CHAPTER VII.
Two Interesting Semi-Mutes
82
ALFRED
ib.
JOHNNIE.
93
CHAPTER VIII.
Our Little Mimics
97
NEDDIE
ib.
ALICE
102

CONTENTS.
vii
CHAPTER IX.
PAGE
Our Southern Boy
105
EDWIN
ib.
CHAPTER X.
X
Our Traveler
116
ORVILLE
ib.
CHAPTER XI.
Our Type
121
JAMES
ib.
CHAPTER XII.
Amusements
127
ORIGINAL PLAYS
ib.
BLOCK BUILDING
130
KRISS KRINGLE
131
MAGIC LANTERN
132
MUSIC AND DANCING
133
DUMB BELLS TO MUSIC
ib.
DOMESTIC ANIMALS
134
.

A WORD TO BENEVOLENT FRIENDS .
136
CHAPTER XIII.
How we Live
138
ST


INTRODUCTION.
BY JOSEPH PARRISH, M. D.


Among the greatest discoveries of the present century is the
fact that Idiots may be redeemed, from their sorrowing night of
ignorance and degradation, to enjoy the light of knowledge, and
become co-laborers with their more favored fellow-men, in the
productive interests of our social and Christian civilization.
This fact is demonstrated in the little volume before us; and

the means that are employed for its accomplishment, are also de-
scribed. In perusing it, I have been forcibly struck with the
simple eloquence of the imperfect words and broken sentences, of
the poor children who are noticed, and with the valuable lessons
which they teach.
They not only have a claim upon us, but they have a message
for us.
They represent different phases of imbecility, as it is manifest
in different spheres of life.
Feeble-mindedness comes not to the poor alone, where it casts
a deeper gloom over the home of want; but it visits the mansions

X
INTRODUCTION.
of the rich, and looks all the more ghastly, in the midst of the
luxury with which it is surrounded among the lofty of earth.
In the domestic circle, it is a sad evil everywhere. It weighs
heavily upon parents, and bedews the hearth of home with drops
of grief.
Within the friendly, social circle, it is an eye-sore spot from
which every one turns, with either pity or disgust; and in the
community at large, it is a burden which taxes the public purse,
and calls loudly for relief.
This book is put forth, to awaken a more general interest in
the hearts and minds of Christian people, in the good work of
training and instructing idiots. It is true, that they bear the
humblest form of humanity, but yet they have an exalted mission
to the children of men.
They appeal to the heart, to keep alive its sympathies; to the
mind, to awaken research; to each faculty of the mind to strength-
en and perfect it.
They teach the wise, how foolish is their wisdom; the lofty, how
easily the pride of man, may be made ashamed; the rich, that
moth and rust will corrupt their treasure, if it is not bestowed on
the poor: and they present their deformity before a vain world,
proclaiming that idiotcy with all its loathsome characteristics, is
not the fault of those who bear its mark, but that it comes, and
rests like a cloud over all their nature, as the result either of
Providence or accident, over which short-sighted men seem to
have no control.

INTRODUCTION.
xi
The slender limbs of the idiot, totter under the weight of his
feeble frame, as a type of parental or ancestral infirmity, to
teach a rash and hasty world, the silent, yet impressive lesson,
that
every law of nature, disregarded, reacts upon the successive
developments which are the result of its exercise, with sad and
fearful consequences.
No man pretends that his finger will not be burned, if he holds
it in the fire, or that his conscience will not suffer the sting of re-
proof, if he tramples upon the moral law; and yet we ignorantly
err in our modes of life and social arrangements, and as a result,
the physical constitution lacks the elements of strength which
give it energy, while the mental and moral power is enfeebled
for the want of a natural vital balance in the body. Insanity,
blindness, deafness, idiotcy, and all the catalogue of diseases,
physical and mental, have their source in the same fact,-a de-
parture from the laws of nature.
A deficiency in the plasm, or mould from whence a human
being begins his life, or a defect in the vital process by which his
successive development is continued, must be exhibited in some
deficiency of expression, either in the body or mind, or both.
We cannot build a sound and sea-worthy ship out of ill-seasoned
or knotty timber, nor yet drive one that is sound and sea-worthy
successfully across the ocean with tattered sails, or stupid pilot,
or drunken commander; and yet the human race is being multi-
plied, in the midst of all the luxuriance and extravagance of a
boasted civilization, and imperfect men and women are launched
2 그근
​
xii
INTRODUCTION.
upon the ocean of life, without a warning or a fear. How few of
them live out the allotted span, the sad records of the world can
only tell. And then, the few who may start out well built and
well equipped, as they rush madly on in the race for riches, or
labor with all their might to find the goal of highest fame; how
soon they fall, as shattered wrecks, upon the wave.
Such is the short history of human infirmity; such the source
of our long list of social evils—they belong to us, and are of
ourselves. Then how potent the obligation, to provide for the
suffering, who are around us on every hand.
There exists no brighter, or more beautiful evidence of the divine
clemency than, that, in the midst of all this unnatural and
perverted life, the same society that inflicts the evil, is endowed
with the means to restore and humanize those who are forsaken.
And if any class has a strong claim upon the sympathies and aid
of a people, whose prosperity is only allowed them that they may
do good with their abundance, surely it is the little children who
are left by the bare hand of penury, and the cold heart of a
thoughtless world, as a legacy to the rich and benevolent—that,
by giving to such, they may lay up treasure where there is no
consuming rust, to spoil the glitter of their gold, but where it
shall all come back to them, in smiles, and blessings, and crowns
of everlasting value.
Pennsylvania Training School,
Germantown, 1858.



13
CHAI
LEI
I.
Our Household Prts.
Two children have attached themselves to all of
us, on account of their infancy and beauty, and are
justly entitled to the appellation of “pets,” in our
household. We shall call them Beckie and Bessie.
A warm-hearted mother enters our school-room,
with the preconceived and popular impression, that
all the inmates of an Idiotic Asylum are necessarily
objects of disgust. BECKIE, our little mute girl, trips
up to our lady visitors. A sweet expression rests on
her countenance, and her cheeks quickly change
color, with the varying emotions that swell her little
bosom; and her eyes dance with intelligent delight,
as the tiny hands of the infant which rests in the
arms of the mother, are thrown out to meet her.
Much surprise is manifested. “Can't she talk?"
“No, she never talked.” 6 Can't she hear?”
2

11
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
“Yes, her hearing is remarkably acute.” “Why!
exclaims the mother, “that child is intelligent
enough; there is nothing the matter with her!”
“But, Madam, she is very nervous; she is unsettled
in all she does; she has been, and is now, occa-
sionally, subject to violent paroxysms of passion;
she is a perfect mute; she may become
“Oh! but you ought to place her in the Deaf and
Dumb Asylum. This is no place for her!”'
BESSIE, a little, flaxen, curly-haired girl of three
years old, is trying by every artifice, to escape from
her seat, to share the attention that Beckie is receiv-
ing. She is unloosed, and with wild delight, skips
across the floor, and backs herself up, into the lap
of one of our fair visitors. She is overwhelmed with
kisses. “Oh! what a little beauty! Oh! you little
witch-you cherub!" are the enthusiastic remarks
of our enthusiastic friends.
Why! what's the
matter with this child ? Why! Doctor, she don't
look wrong—Really, I don't think this child ought
to be here.” We remind the lady of the sad neces-
sity that places the rosy, happy child among us—her
life here, at this early date, may be her salvation
from hopeless idiocy, or insanity.
Now, all these remarks, betoken right good feel-
ing and interest in our visitors, and we like earnest-
66

BECKIE.
15
ness of expression, if tempered with a moderate ap-
preciation of the fact, that we would not be so unjust
as to immolate a healthy, intelligent, natural child,
in an institution devoted to the care and relief of
precisely opposite conditions.
BECKIE.
This child is one of the most interesting of our
group. The following references to her early his-
tory, may be interesting.
In infancy, her health was considered good,
except during dentition, when she had repeated
nervous twitchings. She was backward in com-
mencing to walk, but when she had once learned,
was quite active. In some respects, her habits were
She was particularly careful of her
shoes; but would clean them when soiled, with
a new dress or apron. Her tastes for certain colors
and styles of dress were odd. In disposition she
was unsocial; preferring solitude to society; she
preferred even to play by herself, and her amuse-
ments were as eccentric as they were original.
very nice.

16
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
Her attachments though few, were quite decided.
She was timid in the presence of strangers. She
disliked domestic animals, and was often annoying
and even destructive towards them. She tried to
utter several monosyllabic words, at the time that
children ordinarily talk, and never but one at a
time; this she soon discontinued entirely.
We shall describe BECKIE as she came under our
notice, eighteen months ago.
She was in the grove, alone; and carried in her
little clenched fingers, a quantity of sticks and stones,
and a small tin cup: her form was crouched, and she
moved about among the leaves, apparently in search
of something; but on our approach, she bounded
away with the grace and lightness of a startled gaz-
elle. We followed her, and after much coaxing and
many maneuvers, succeeded in getting her to ap-
proach. She seemed very slender and nervous, and
her face pallid; the clear, transparent skin, reveal-
ing the delicate veins that coursed beneath: her eye
possessed a peculiar pensiveness,-indeed, sadness,
which corresponded well with the soft outlines of
her interesting face. Once seen, she was long re-
membered, for she seemed with her dream-like
silence in that green retreat, more like a spiritual,
than a physical existence.

BECKIE.
17
On further acquaintance, we found her to be of a
violent temper, and easily excited to a manifestation
of it, by any interruption to her designs or habits.
During such paroxysms, she frequently threw herself
on the floor, stamping her feet with rage, and turn-
ing blue in the face; at other times she would bite
and slap herself, and once pinched her finger severe-
ly in the crack of a door, to excite a relenting spirit
in the person offended with her.
She had been severely reprimanded by her teach-
er, and after the first storm was over, approached
the latter with all the signs of deep contrition and
repentance-reconciliation under similar circum-
stances, was always effected by a kiss; on this occa-
sion, the preliminaries were not valid, for in the very
act of kissing, the child bit the lady's cheek so
severely, that the marks lasted several days.
Her mischief knew no bounds-where no other
form could glide, Beck, winged with the spirit of
mischief, might be found; a sly tip under the elbow
of a stranger at tea, has dashed the cup from his
lips, and its contents upon his satin and linen. An
annual clearing of the flues, has restored rulers,
scissors, collars, and all the et ceteras of the school-
room, mostly deposited there by BECKIE.
Recently, this innate mischievous propensity, has
2*

18
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
exhausted itself in another form. 6 James” is se-
lected as the victim, and a more appropriate one
could not be—a huge slate rag, pendant to his coat-
tail, is one of her favorite exhibitions.
Her attachment was always confined to but one
individual at the same time, and the bond was irk-
some enough to the consenting party, for her affec-
tion was too tyrannical in its demands to be comfort-
ably supported, while she was disobedient as she
could well be.
The few child-like amusements she had, seemed
distortions of simple, easy childhood; her arms were
often loaded with two or three geometric blocks, a
long ruler, or a yard-stick-these were her “babies”
—they were with her in the woods—on the ladders
-in the school-room, and at the table in respective
seats; they were taken to bed, where they lay on
each side of her, and her soundest sleep would be
wakened, if any one had the temerity to attempt
their removal.
No improvement was apparent in her case, until
she was fully impressed with a course of tonic medi-
cine, to soothe and settle her excited nervous system,
while it was necessary to rectify her perverted moral
tendencies. To this end her solitude was interfered
with; she must join in the dumb-bell exercise with

BECKIE.
19
other children—a rag baby must be substituted for
her blocks and sticks, which are returned to the
places and uses designed for them. She must be
taught that first lesson, in progress, which she has
not yet learned—obedience; she must not be over-
petted, and yet not forsaken—she must seek for as-
sociation, with each, and all. This plan was only
partially carried out; yet her health improved; she
became less exacting in her demands on her favorite
instructor; and she sometimes made lip motion,
when asked to talk. We extract from our Register.
December 3d. “The seal which has been set for
so long a time on articulate speech, is broken; and
to the surprise and joy of the household, she is now
a talking child. "I did it.'_ Mamma,'—'Papa,'-
'Baby,'—Apple,' and 'You,' are the words to which
she has given utterance; thus answering our antici-
pations, and giving assurance, that it is but the
beginning of greater things. She is too much excited."
BECKIE, after preparing for bed, in taking a glass
of water, mischievously poured some of it on the
floor; this was a habit of her's to excite a mock
scolding, which she enjoyed. She was immediately
called to, in a stern, loud voice—“ Who did that ?"
The little thing danced about in high glee, and sud-
denly exclaimed, “I did it!" Excitement was now

20
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
heaped on, and the frenzied child repeated the ad-
ditional words-indistinctly it is true, but they were
words. Mark what follows in five short days.
“December 17. Since 8th instant has been quite
sick, with Irritative Fever."
A few days of protracted excitement, and the child
had lapsed into her helpless silence; no enthusiasm
could awaken that little heart to speech; her face
was pallid; her breath fætid; she was out of tune,"
after striking but a few notes, for a rude hand had
swept over strings too tensely drawn. A slow fever
prostrated her; and for many days after she lay on
her couch, gentle and quiet; not sick-not well ;
but her animal forces completely exhausted.
The above remarks need not reflect unpleasantly
on any person; the natural impulse of a warm affec-
tion with many, would be to excite, in a case like
the present, by every means, that most beautiful of
all harmonies, the human voice.
About this time, two circumstances occurred,
which had a very happy bearing on Beckie's future.
Dr. Parrish wisely forbade any inmate to fret the
child for words, under the conviction that language
would come naturally, when she was physically and
mentally prepared for it.
Beckie, too, had an attendant, and between them a

BECKIE.
21
reciprocal affection sprang up; the latter possessed the
rare quality of persons in this station, of not desiring,
and concerting, to monopolize the attachment of her
little charge—she compelled her to look to many
sources for her entertainment, and never became
herself the victim of the child's tyrannical habits.
Under such favorable auspices, she improved; she
was no longer restless and inattentive in the school-
room; a new intelligence seemed to dawn from those
pensive eyes, and when our phonetic exercises were
engaged in, she indicated her willingness to join
them, by twisting her mouth in all possible direc-
tions, and modeling her lips with her fingers.
One day, about this period, she accidentally spoke
two words. In a crowded dining-room, she was in-
terfered with, and called out in a half audible voice,
“ go away!" But immediately she ran into a corner,
hid her face, and held her lips fast together with
her hand, as if showing an instinctive dread of the
excitement which the forcing plan had engendered.
It was a natural sign, that true wisdom could not
disregard, in the management of such a case.
We return to our register :
January 24. For five evenings past, R. has
indulged in a free use of her organs of speech; this
is only after retiring, and when under the impression

22
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
ing. *
of being alone. What is most gratifying, is to find,
that her intellectual powers are not so dormant as
was supposed by some—her words are the representa-
tives of intelligent thought.
“Her language is addressed to her doll; its nose,
eyes, etc., are pointed at and named, with some lisp-
* She sings, with some errors, “ The Lakes;'
(a school-room exercise ;) her pronunciation of these
is poor, but sufficiently distinct to be understood by
any one, familiar with our singing exercises.
“She makes attempts to recite our Addition
Tables, and pronounces perfectly, many of the figures.
“Baby! Dannie had a fit! Poor Dannie,' are
words frequently uttered, with immoderate glee at
the circumstance.
“She sings with a clear mellow voice, many of
our school-room songs, and with a precision of note
that astonishes us. Her favorites are, The Geography
Tune;' "Old Dog Tray;' 'I think when I read that
sweet story of old;' My own Mamma, my dear
Mamma!' and Sweet Lillie.'
666
“Her want of co-ordination in the movements of
the tongue, lips, and laryngial muscles, prevents
clear articulation; as confidence, and her own
powers by exercise, are developed, she will be much
improved by phonetics, which school-room exercise

BECKIE.
23
she is evidently fond of, indulging, as she now does,
in the vocalization of many sounds, for the benefit
of her mute rag baby.”
The intelligence, of a darling child having been
thus wonderfully restored to speech, must have
thrilled the hearts of the fond parents, and numerous
friends, and a few months after, an aged grand-
mother from her distant home, visited the child, to
catch from her own lips, their liberated music.
BECKIE was happy; she recognized her venerable
relative, submitted to her tender caresses; but would
not talk; only that morning, had her cheerful voice
been heard by all the house—now she was mute
again. The grandmother turned to leave, sorrow-
ing that she could not hear with her own ears, those
cheerful sounds. When only a short distance down
the avenue, Beck, in the most provoking manner,
ran up to one of us, and said, in a whisper, “Grand-
mom' gone home-see baby.” Much of the “old
leaven” remained in her composition.
September 23d. Has returned from a protract-
ed visit, home. Parts with her father with regret,
and seeks those now, whom she never sought before,
to point where “Papa' has disappeared; when asked
what she means, with a face full of sorrow, she says:
"Gone home to baby William.' Juliet, her good

24
HOUSEHOLD PETS.
OUR
nurse, is gone also; and a hearty cry indicates the
genuineness of her childish sorrow, and draws her
still closer to us, as her present grief is a natural one
-the first she ever exhibited.
“Her habitual gayety is soon restored, and she
goes through our halls, making them echo with her
cheerful songs. She seldom talks aloud—she whispers
very loudly, so as to be heard across a room, but
her singing is an annoyance and disturbance during
school hours.
“She has much to say about her little baby being
very sick, because a naughty girl whipped it.' On
one occasion, she met one of us at the door, and
with the most earnest expression of concern, said in
a hurried voice, ‘Doctor, do come up and see baby-
its got the fever!' She was asked what she had done
for it. Her answer was derived from her own ample
experience— Gave it a mustard foot bath.'
“Her disposition is much improved; her barrier
to speech would seem to have been an irritation to
her, which being now removed, allows her little heart
to leap with childish exuberance; her light step is
lighter now; her pensive eye is singularly bright,
and dances with the strong mental workings, to
which she gives free expression. To reproof, she
is more gentle and obedient, answering with a

BESSIE.
25
quiet smile, when before she gave a pitiful contortion
of countenance."
What is our little prodigy doing now? Four
months ago, she was placed at her alphabet, having
previously been well practised in form and color;
she is now reading monosyllabic words, pronouncing
them aloud, and correctly. Before visitors, she
speaks in whispering tone, generally: if a baby is
in the company, she will talk in ordinary pitch.
Placed before an outline map of the United States,
she seems tolerably well acquainted with most of the
geographical features, answering in a clear audible
voice. She counts fifteen understandingly, makes
straight lines on the slate, threads beads with refer-
ence to color, and devises little forms for them, when
her string is completed. Mentally, she is a progress-
ing child of four years, instead of eight.
BESSIE,
is three years old. About one year since, she
had a fall which injured her spine. It was follow-
ed by a brain fever and convulsions; on her re-
3

26
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
covery from these symptoms, she was found with
vacant staring eyes; her feet turned inwards, and
her gait was tottering; she ran wildly from thing to
thing, and seemed to have but momentary enjoy-
ment in each: she knew not when danger was near,
and did not appreciate the sense of alarm. Her in-
stincts, in this respect, were perverted, if not abol-
ished. Before her illness, she began to talk, knew
her parents, and called them by name. After it, she
not only lost their names, but was wanting, in great
measure, in that natural affection which before had
endeared them to her. Her destructiveness was very
marked; her habits became filthy, and her tastes
strangely perverted.
It was sad, indeed, to see a beautiful little child,
once healthy, and with a bright intellect, now en-
feebled in body and mind, with all her tendencies
towards a lower, instead of a higher order of being.
But such was the case.
She came to our Institution seven months ago.
It did not pain her to see her mother depart. Her
father went, but BESSIE's wandering eye had no tear
to drop upon his cheek: she was at home in this
strange place; at home with anybody. She ran
among the other children, without interest in either
of them. She amused herself with what came with-

BESSIE.
27
in reach, and injured or destroyed everything that
amused her.
Her present condition may be thus described:
Her eye is not now staring and vacant; it is lighted
by an intelligence that is radiant with the promise
of future good. Her feet are not now unsteady, but
as she prances through our apartments and grounds,
she carries in her sure and steady step, the glad
tidings of approaching recovery.
She is not now wild with the aimless capers of
imbecility, but is all fervent with the cheerful glad-
ness of normal childhood. Her enjoyments are
natural, and she participates in them as a child of
nature; and her affections have bloomed forth from
the blighted chaos, where, but a few months since
they were buried, and a sweet fragrance is instilled
alike in the greeting laugh of the morning and
the parting by-by” of evening.
At a recent visit of her father to our house, he
was recognized by her, before he had yet seen her,
and his ear caught the sound of “papa, papa," before
he saw from whence it came.
She is learning the first and most important lesson
of childhood-obedience: and under its controlling
teachings, her tastes and habits are assuming a
direction, and an elevation, that will lead her out

28
OUR HOUSEHOLD PETS.
of her degradation, to enjoy the sweet gifts of intel-
ligent companionship in maturing girlhood, and
elevate her to a place in society, where, if she lives,
it may never be known, that her early tendencies
were as they have been.
She was wisely taken from home, though only
three years old, very soon after she was visited by
this sad calamity, and placed under circumstances,
where night has been removed; and the result
proves the good judgment of her father, and the
true affection of the mother, who, having the wel-
fare of their child alone at heart, listened not to the
false notions of popular affection, which inculcate
indulgence at home, as the true remedy for early
misfortune, but took the best, and the earliest
means to restore the lost one. Now they have in
their sweet little child “A MIND UNVEILED," shining
out in purity and intelligence.
Had they done otherwise, they would have
mourned over a deformed and helpless imbecile.
Let this case impress the lesson, which every
faithful reader of its history must appreciate.

CHAPTER II.
Blighted by Disease.
GEORGIE.
A POOR orphan boy, of whose birth and history
nothing is now known, GEORGIE's demands on our
sympathies are great; to be an orphan, is sorrowful
-to be an abandoned orphan, is more so—but to
be parentless, friendless, and a helpless idiot, is the
depth of human sorrow.
Poor GEORGIE had never known a mother's caress :
his irritable spirit had never been soothed by a
gentle hand; a little outcast, no one cared to be
taxed with his wants, which, though childish, were
unreasonable, when exacted from any one but a
sacrificing mother. It is no wonder then, that
with no warming sunshine of affection, to brighten
his early days, he became cold and suspicious to-
wards all advances—that his temper became soured
3*

30
BY DISEASE.
BLIGHTED
and irritable, and that all the uncurbed habits of
insane idiocy developed themselves.
In appearance, the lad was idiotic in the extreme,
about six years of age, his body was frail and
stooping, his arms extremely long, and head of
man's size, denoting by its anatomical peculiarities,
that he had been the victim of hydrocephalus.*
His features, as his form, were also unprepossess-
ing, from great protrusion of the maxillary bones,
a turned up nose; the nostrils looking directly
front, and a low forehead, overhung with stiff, curly,
yellow hair; altogether his appearance was more
shinish than human.
His habits were maliciously filthy; his clothing
was often found torn into tatters, or stuffed away
into the, flues; and in paroxysms of insane rage he
has broken the furniture of a room, and made him-
self a terror to his attendants. To discipline, he
was an uncompromising opponent; gentleness was
met with screams, and severity with downright
obstinacy.
He uttered but one intelligble sound; which was
mommy;" this word he employed indiscriminately,
often chattering it, like a monkey.
He engaged in no school-room exercise, but sat
66
* Water on the brain.

GEORGIE.
31
listless, with his lower jaw dropped, and a scowl
on his brow: if he was spoken to, however kindly
the tone, he would bury his head in his lap, or turn
it violently around, uttering at the same time, the
most discordant cries: there seemed no avenue to
his affections, and no mode of concentrating his
attention on any one thing, and the hope for his
improvement seemed visionary.
By constant watching, and avoiding to irritate
him in any way, his habits improved very greatly
-his anger became less frequent and violent, and
in one year's time he was a quiet, orderly boy in
school; but yet it was seldom that he would listen
to any request that took him away from his accus-
tomed seat, or disturbed his inactivity. The same
irritability was slumbering there; its manifestation
only awaited exciting causes, to burst forth with
all its original violence. He was happiest when
alone.
He possesses to a remarkable degree a natural
fondness and talent for music; a song heard once
or twice was caught by GEORGIE, and his clear voice
warbled it out with a rich, perfect compass; in
these performances, which were always for his own
private benefit, he used no words, but merely labial
and guttural sounds. Here then was a magnet, by

32
BLIGHTED BY DISEASE.
which to attract his rambling, pointless fancies—the
influence of music.
In the month of January, 1857, GEORGIE was pros-
trated by a low form of typhoid fever; we despaired
for a time of his life; a state of apparent uncon-
sciousness was followed by wild delirium; in his
phrensied paroxysms his tongue was unloosed;
“Go 'way!” “dinner," puddin'," and many more
words were articulated; he convalesced slowly, but
retained the words he had uttered; the sound of
an approaching step was hailed by GEORGE with
enthusiasm, and he would scream with all his
strength, “Dokey!* puddin'! Please puddin'!"
When he was again fitted for the school-room,
the change in his deportment was remarked by all;
no longer a sulky, expressionless boy; he seemed
endowed with a new-born nature; there was light
in his eye, and interest in his look.
A number of pictures, which had been displayed
on the wall, during his sickness, was a circumstance
of excited pleasure to him when he was again in his
long neglected seat; he ran from one to another,
pulling them up to see the soldiers on horses!" or
"see the mens!”
* Doctor.

GEORGIE.
33
Confidence has been finally established in the bo-
som of the little forlorn boy; and the gushing
streams of childhood, though late in their spring-
ings, are none the less lovely. Georgie is the first
to run and welcome a returned member of the
household; he is the first to come forward with his
frank“Good morning!" And if accidentally missed
in the morning's salutation, his dancing eyes will
soften into a pensive disappointment.
At the table, he is now one of our best behaved;
he joins in our marching and dumb-bell exercises,
in the former, with the order and time of a veteran
in the service.
He utters very many sentences; answers a few
questions from the outline maps ; counts twenty
irregularly, and twelve understandingly; he is fond
of the geometric boards, and arranges the many-
sided blocks with facility. Occasionally, he be-
comes obstinate and indolent; at such times he is
transferred from the school-room to the Gymnasium,
where vigorous rope and ladder exercise, dispels his
ill-temper, and he returns with his accustomed dili-
gence to the more quiet exercises of the school-
room.
His youth is very much in his favor, and the
prospect that internal changes may go on, which

34
BLIGHTED BY DISEASE.
will materially affect the condition of his brain,
allowing it to perform its functions more perfectly,
encourages us to continued perseverance.
His case is one that fully demonstrates the prac-
ticability of improving a low type of idiocy, asso-
ciated with chronic hydrocephalus, while to the
physiologist, an interesting question is presented,
as to the mysterious influences that operated on
his mind through the organism, when prostrated
by a low fever.
FA MES, OR FI M M IE.
“JIMMIE,” as distinguished from “James," another
patient, is like the last, afflicted with chronic hydro-
cephalus, (water on the brain,) and much resembles
GEORGIE, too, in mental and moral characteristics.
He is a pretty boy, with a large cranium and ex-
pansive forehead.
His grade was, and is very low, he was a perfect
mute for many years, his irritability manifests itself
in a very eccentric way; he may be in a towering
passion, occasioned by the most trivial circum-

JAMES, OR JIMMIE.
35
stance, his face crimson, his eyes starting with
rage, and his hands and head violently gesticu-
lating, but advance toward him, with a tone and
look of surprise, saying, “Why! is this the little boy
with yellow hair and blue eyes ?” and he is calmed,
and with as demonstrative evidence of satisfaction, as
previously of anger, he is transformed into an ex-
cess of amiability.
A few simple words he now speaks; of cows and
horses, dogs and cats, he is very fond, and will stand
in the extreme of cold weather, watching them with
fixed interest, trying to call their names.
A few days since, he had a trifling pimple on his
knee, which was sufficient to cause much excite-
ment; he groaned and sighed, became cross and
angry, and no one came within his reach, that it
was not immediately presented for sympathy-he
called it scar! car!"" One of the children had suf-
fered from a carbuncle. Jimmie had heard it so called,
had retained the name of it, and made this good
application of it.
He is faithful in the school-room; attempts pen-
cil-drawing on the slate, making many intelligent
forms and figures, which he personifies with the
name of a teacher, or companion.
He exhibits much constructiveness in the arrange-

36
BLIGHTED BY DISEASE.
ment of wooden blocks, and recently has threaded
beads with some reference to color.
What improvement he may continue to make, or
whether he may remain stationary, no one can tell;
much will depend on the changes to which his
brain may be yet subjected.

37
CHAPTER III.
Two Low Ca$ e$.
A POPULAR prejudice, amounting to repugnance,
exists towards the unfortunate idiot, which ought
not to be indulged by a philanthropic mind; and
the two following cases are introduced, to show that
humanity, in its lowest estate, presents something to
admire, even while there is much to pity.
EDWARD.
We are informed that “big EDWARD,"* in his early
youth, was remarkably precocious—he went regular-
* We have three Edwards, and for distinction, the children call this
one, appropriately “big Edward."
4

38
TWO LOW CASES.
ly to school, and before his tenth year, had acquired
the elementary branches of English educaticn. He
was very fond of his pencil and brush, and some
drawings and paintings are referred to, as being cre-
ditably executed by him.
In his tenth year, the proud hopes of his mother
and family, were suddenly and sorrowfully blasted.
He had been studying hard all day at school, and
returned, much fatigued, in the afternoon; while
resting, he was seized with apoplexy and paralysis
of the right side, the consequences of which, he has
never recovered from. Epileptic convulsions suc-
ceeded; at one period, so frequent was their recur-
rence, that they were enumerated as forty in a single
night!
Imbecility, of the most inveterate type, followed
of necessity, and the mind, that in the morning of
life had risen with such bright promise, was soon ob-
scured by deepest and darkest shade.
We will not follow Edward, through the details of
his life at home: none but the experienced can know
the ponderous care of such a child. Possessed with
a strong and passionate will, with no reason to guide
it, and no comprehension that could be appealed to,
Edward was indeed a crushing weight, upon the
happiness of his mother and sister.

EDWARD.
39
In his eighteenth year he was placed with us; all
that could be offered in his case, was the protection
of an asylum, and a possible chance that his dispo-
sition might improve.
We found him most ungovernable in temper, and
appetite—strong, and conscious of his strength; he
went whithersoever his fancies led him; any attempt
to arrest him was met with a storm of oaths, often
accompanied by blows and missiles—after which, he
would lapse into a trance of passion, standing for
hours, apparently meditating some dark design.
For weeks he continued in this mood-an ominous
scowl met the kind approach of friends-no plea-
santry could light up a responsive feeling, no smile
excite its return. He was entirely mute, excepting
when aroused with anger, when he cursed with the
most fearful volubility.
One of the first lessons he seemed to require was,
that superiority of strength could be brought to bear
upon him, if necessary—he probably, considered
himself invincible—for on one occasion, when nar-
rowly escaping the wheels of a locomotive, he was
sternly told that he came near being killed, with
the most contemptuous air, and an appropriate oath,
he said: “Can't kill me—knock the thing off, I
would.” An occasion soon served, to instruct him

40
TWO LOW CASES.
in the fact, that he could be managed; and from
that time, his prowess seemed to wane in his own
estimation.
Time passed on; he was the same cold, selfish,
silent boy, his life only expressing individuality, in
sudden and destructive violence, when, one bright
Sabbath morning, he came, bearing in his hand, a
little flower, and in the most confidential way allowed
us to peep at it—the moment seemed to be a favor-
able one—he was praised for finding such a beauti-
ful thing, and as a return, was invited to look at
some fine pictures, illustrating Scripture history; he
was led away, alone, and the plates slowly turned
before his earnest gaze; he seemed interested, the
intelligence of forgotten days, when he had himself
skilfully used the pencil and brush, seemed to settle
about him like a dream; and as the picture of a
kneeling figure with upturned eye, came before him,
a sudden thought illuminated his face, his palsied
arm raised from his lap, and with an emotion that
can never be forgotten, the boy pronounced the
single word, “praying.”
The stone had been struck, and the gushings of
long years before, were chafing, to burst out again,
in all their richness and purity.
Early the next morning, before rising, the room

EDWARD.
41
door of the writer, slowly opened, and Edward, with
most of his clothing hanging over his arm, entered
with an eager step; he advanced toward the glass
door that faced the east, and with raised finger and
unwonted fervor, he exclaimed, “Look there!"
The gray of dawn had receded before the rich
colors of sunrise, and that gorgeous sky, had thrilled
the soul of poor Edward.
“Look there! red—blue-orange--all kinds!”
His small vocabulary seemed exhausted, his lips
were parted, and his eye returned for the rich beams
of that beautiful sky, what was equally beautiful,
the intelligent gaze of a dismantled spirit.
IIis bosom seemed to thrill, and his whole form
expand and heighten with the swelling emotion, as
with riveted eye and outstretched arm, he uttered in
a subdued voice" God in Heaven.”
What soul that would not have been impressed
with such worship, what human heart that would
not have leaped with responsive sympathy towards
that poor idiot boy? An idiot, indeed; a poor, fro-
ward idiot; but even in his lowliness, confounding
the wise, for his faith had reached, where proud intel-
ects, have been darkened by ignorance and infidelity.
Edward is still dull, and always will be so. His
epilepsy seems incurable. But we have noticed
4*

42
TWO LOW CASES.
with gratification, a great change in his temper;
he has become obedient and passive; he rarely uses
profane language; recently he administered an oath
to a boy, who trod on his foot, but being gently re-
primanded, he looked mildly up, and said, “Didn't
go to do it.”
ABRA.
This boy is sixteen years of age-in stature he is
ten, but in countenance twenty.
When first entered, he was as near approaching
Dr. Séguin's type of idiotcy, as any one we ever saw
—“He knew nothing, could do nothing, and wished
for nothing.” The bell for meals, is observed by
our children, in a manner most unmistakable—Ab
was the solitary exception—there he sat, one hot
summer's morning, his form bent nearly double,
his eyelids drooping, mouth open, and flies, with
perfect security, going in and out at the slavering
chasm.
A few weeks passed away—he had been vigorously
exercised-urged over ladders, and his unwilling

ABRAM.
43
hands, taught to grasp the rounds, his feeble knees,
had been freely exercised on the walks, and his back,
straightened up by gymnastic exercise. If he had
any opinion about this course, he might have con-
sidered himself quite abused.
We soon found that there was one agent, most
certain, to stimulate his attention. A room was
darkened, and a shower of ether, in which phos-
phorus had been dissolved, was thrown over the
ceiling and about the room. Ab was frantic with
joy; he jumped from his chair, and followed the
changing flakes of light, uttering his first expres-
sion of pleasure—“La! la! la! la!"
An anecdote in Ab's history, which has come to
us, will also show his enchantment by fire. A
creek passes on the outskirts of the town, where
he was born, called Jordan. Ab, one dark night,
escaped from his attendant, and after wandering
along the stream, he came in view of the bright
light of a brick-kiln, situated some distance back
from the opposite shore: the poor, infatuated boy,
delighted with the glare that sprang from the
blackness beyond, crawled down the bank, waded
through the cold waters, and clambered the oppo-
site hill. He then eagerly pushed forward for the
dazzling light; nearing it, he was suddenly pre-

44
TWO LOW CASES.
cipitated into a deep ditch; his screams of terror,
brought to his assistance two night-laborers from
the yard, and their timely succor saved the child
from drowning in the ditch. Frightened, and
almost dead with cold, he was returned to his
anxious parents; and to this day, Ab’s adventure
of “crossing the Jordan,” is narrated by the vil-
lagers.
Another of his qualities is, a fondness for music;
a drum and fife, or a violin, always led him a will-
ing captive, and he has frequently been enticed by
them a distance from home. At the present time,
when our lady instructor, who performs on the
melodeon, enters the room, Ab not unfrequently,
seizes her by the dress, and pulls her toward the
instrument, expressing in the most positive manner
his wish for her to play.
But we return to him, as he came under our dis-
cipline. When first placed before a ladder, and
made to understand that he must mount it, he
became wild with passion-stamped, kicked, and
screamed-he was met with firm persistence, and
after several days' exercise, we succeeded in get-
ting him to the ridge-pole, and subsequently over
it, and descending upon the opposite ladder. It
was amusing and instructive, to see how this low

ABRAM.
45
imbecile, would cunningly change his policy in the
most violent exhibition of anger; failing to be
released by this, he suddenly began to cry in the
most piteous manner, stroking his long, cold fingers
over the face, and most fawningly appealing to the
benevolence of his trainer.
The meal bell, was now thoroughly compre-
hended; and what was much more, he learned the
true time to make predatory excursions into the
officers' dining-room, where he has been found
more than once, demolishing an appropriated des-
sert, or relieving the sugar-bowl of its contents.
Corresponding with his improvement in the Gym-
nasium, he advanced in other respects. It was a
long time since he had known the endearments of
home, and it might well be supposed that this, one of
the lowest of humanity, cherished no remembrance
of the tender affection that had been lavished upon
him. One day, when in his brightest mood, a
visitor, who spoke Ab's mother tongue, was desired
to speak a few familiar words to him—“ mother”
and "home" were spoken-his attention was ar-
rested; he raised his head, and broke out with the
“Yaw! yaw!” of his kindred, and the bright tears
rushed to his eyes, testifying to the depth of his
tender emotion.

46
TWO LOW CASES.
What is he now? So much has he changed in
one short year, that his father admitted that it was
difficult to recognize his boy: the old man's heart
was full, as Ab tenderly led him to the foot of
a ladder, and was not satisfied, until both were
perched high up on the ridge-pole.doc
Ab, at the table, no longer dashes at his food
with his hands, nor applies his mouth to his plate,
but with care, uses his fork as orderly as any of the
smaller children; in school, he threads rings, but-
tons and beads, and even imitates many of the
phonetic sounds; the words “boy” and “buger
boo,” for a long time constituted his entire vocabu-
lary: more recently he has added “papa," "mam-
ma,” “man,” “good boy,” and “bell.” Exercises
in color are not beyond his comprehension, and of
the many voluntary efforts he has lately made,
the most noted is an essay to turn a “somerset,"
in which he succeeded, after the most approved
fashion.
Of animals he is extremely fond: he has been
missed, and after search, found at the stable, feed-
ing the horse with grass pulled by his own hands.
A large St. Bernard dog and he are boon com-
panions; they wrestle together, and probably would
be mutually glad to eat together. So well is Ab

अज
99/
25/


ABRAM.
47
recognized by the dog, and so strong is the prefer-
ence, that the latter immediately makes for him
when he is in the vicinity.
Ab’s disposition is very affectionate; and sick-
ness, or wounds, call out the most abundant sym-
pathy. He is rescued from a state considered as
hopeless idiotcy. How far he will improve is not
for us to say; but we entertain hopes of a boy who
will feed a horse, hang by his hands to a rope with
body in mid-air, and who will steal a pudding.

CHAPTER IV.
A boy that we are proud of.
GRUBB.
A THICK set boy of twelve years, was placed with
us sixteen months ago.
Soon after our acquaintance, Grubb signalized
himself by making his escape; the place did not
suit his taste; order and obedience were the first
principles of the house; disorder and disobedience
had been his. Jumping on the cars he was taken
into Philadelphia, whither a messenger was sent by
the next train and the runaway found, inquiring, in
unintelligible language, where Mr. E—, his guar-
dian lived. Grubb was not conscious of the hun-
dreds of miles that lay between himself and home.
He was a moral idiot, he recognized no obligation
to God nor man, and having some appreciation of
the value of money and property, nothing that could

GRUBB.
49
be appropriated, was safe within his reach. With
this innate propensity, he had a good share of secre-
tiveness too, so that the most disguised cross-ques-
tioning rarely discovered the truth. His honest face,
covered the most mature dishonesty.
We were, on one occasion, in search of wild
flowers. Grubb turned from the roadside into an
adjoining field; when he returned, he carried in his
hand a five dollar note, which he was seen to
pick up from the ground: with a countenance of
surprised pleasure, he advanced and told his story;
we answered, that we should seek its owner. Grubb
immediately asked, “May I have it to buy some-
thing, if you don't find the man ?”
The note was recognized as belonging to a mem-
ber of the family, who left it exposed for a moment
in the boy's presence. He managed to conceal it,
and confessed the fault, after confinement in his
chamber for two days.
Many such instances might be given of stealth,
and stubborn duplicity; this evil course he followed
blindly; he knew not the law, and sin could not be
imputed to him.
His attainments were as meagre, as had been his
advantages. He is said to have known his alphabet
imperfectly; he could not make a straight chalk-

50
BOY THAT WE ARE PROUD OF.
А
line, knew not a figure, and in short, he was deplo-
rably ignorant and indifferent.
He was afflicted with chorea ;* so much so, as to
be irregular in gait, and to eat with difficulty. His
speech was exceedingly defective, owing, in part, to
habits contracted and never corrected, and also to
malformation of the tongue; he was “ tongue-tied”
when a babe, and several ineffectual operations for
its relief had been made; hence there was much
shortening of that organ, which incapacitated him
for making some sounds, very important to correct
language.
He was as obstinate as a mule, when in a temper
to be so; and resisted female authority, as beneath
his notice.
A few days of discipline, worked a great change
in Grubb's demeanor; by little trusts of duty con-
signed to him, he was made to feel his importance
to the well-being of the Institution. Confinement in
a school-room, was a new thing to him; its strict em-
ployments, to a boy whose home had been in the fields
and on the streets, and who knew no government
save his own will, was a new and irksome life; hence
he was not kept regularly at his desk; if a load of hay
* St. Vitus' dance.

GRUBB.
51
came-Grubb helped stow it away; if corn in the
field was to be husked—Grubb was employed-he
was constituted cow-boy, boot-black, and errand-boy,
and moderate compensation encouraged his interest,
and ensured his punctuality. The school-room, was a
secondary matter for him, until he willingly sought it.
Grubb was easily entertained with narrative. Our
Sunday exercises suited his taste, precisely; he be-
came a willing and instructed listener, to stories of
good and bad boys, of duty to God, and of the life,
sufferings, and death of our Saviour; his tender na-
ture was appealed to Heaven was spoken of as the
home of the departed, his own father, mother, sisters
and brothers were there; and he was reminded, that
he was left alone in the world to get ready to meet
them. The boy's susceptible heart, was as easily led
into right, as it had been darkened and misled by
wrong. Any reference to his departed parents, struck
a sensitive chord in the poor orphan's spirit; the tears
would start to his eyes, and his whole form tremble,
with the strong emotion that agitated him.
We discovered soon, that night and morning,
Grubb was making extemporaneous prayers, noto-
rious for their length, but most fervent and appro-
priate; he became obedient, truthful and industrious,
and with moderate watching, could be trusted to

52
A BOY THAT WE ARE PROUD OF.
considerable extent: an example will be given of the
latter.
On Sabbath we have exercises, intended to ap-
proach in character, religious worship at the
Churches. At their close, a collection is taken ;
Grubb is our trustee," and passes around among
the urchins with his hat; the funds, sometimes a
few cents, and as many sticks and buttons, are
honestly deposited in a box, in another room. He
has been watched so often, and found reliable, that
we feel that he has quite surmounted his natural
propensity.
In the school-room, his progress has been very
surprising. One year ago, he was taught to make
figures; since then, he has become acquainted with
the first three rules of arithmetie: any sum in simple
multiplication he performs correctly, though with
great tardiness before visitors; his idea seems to
be, that the longer the time that is devoted to a
sum, the greater the evidence of its difficulty, and
his own ability. Time, enumeration, dry measure,
and many other tables, have been committed; and
in writing, his improvement is quite satisfactory.
An interesting physiological fact is exhibited in
a marked elongation of the tongue, which may be
attributed entirely to a free exercise in phonetics,

GRUBB.
53
especially of those sounds requiring the use of the
tip of the tongue, which he could not make origin-
ally, but which he now makes, from the elongation
and increase in the power of the organ, as the result
of continued effort.
He is much more steady in his gait; and this
specimen of perforated card-work, will show the
command of hand he has acquired.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXX
Rope on
XXXXXXXX
ХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХХ
A few days since he composed, and wrote with
his own hand, a letter, which we give below. It is
but fair to state, that his dictation was reduced to a
copy before he himself attempted to write. The
penmanship, if not elegant, is intelligible.
“INSTITUTE,
“Germantown, 1858.
“Dear Mr. E:
"I am well; how are you getting along at home?
How is my sister getting along? I have not heard
from you since I left.

54
BOY THAT WE ARE PROUD OF.
A
“I have been to Trenton, to show the people what
I could do. I started from Germantown in a train
of cars, and after got to Philadelphia, we walked
down to the stage, and went to the cars that go to
Trenton; we went across a big bridge across the
Delaware river, and then we came to Trenton, and
then we went to a tavern, and staid there all night.
We showed the people what we could do; all the
boys and me sung, and did the dumb-bell exercises;
sung geography, and did some sums. A whole lot
of people was in, and ladies, and they stamped their
feet. The Governor of New Jersey talked to us,
and I made him a present of a smoking-cap, that
Lizzie M— made. Next day we went to another
hall, where there was a great many children, and
some ladies and gentlemen; and we went up on top
of a big State House, and saw the whole country.
We saw a great many men in the State House
writing, and a good many women was looking at
them. Dr. Wm. A. Newell* took me into his
room, and showed me a big pair of scales, made of
gold; two of them, a big one and a little one: and
he took me into another room, and I saw, oh! a
great large map of Massachusetts, as big as our new
map of Pennsylvania.
* Governor of New Jersey.

GRUBB.
55
“We have got a good many chickens and pigeons.
We had a monkey named Jack, but he died, and me
and Johnnie buried him. We have a horse and car-
riage, and I hitch him up, and give him water and
feed him when George is away. We have a big,
black dog, named 'Clip;' sometimes I run about in
the snow with him; and we have got a little dog,
named 'Fannie;' she catches rats.
“We have two teachers. I am learning to read,
and write, and cipher, and can do sums in multi-
plication, and addition, and subtraction, and am
going to learn in division.
“We have got a great big picture of the new
house; next year we are going to move there.
*
*
*
**
**
66
Good-bye,
“GRUBB."
He is now able to read easy, prose stories, under-
standingly. His eyes are always open, and his mind
receiving new truths. The following conversation,
which we give in the actual language used, will
exhibit many of his qualities of mind.
We were on our way to Philadelphia, by carriage,
having as company Ned and Johnnie. Grubb's
mind was very active.

56
ARE PROUD OF.
A BOY THAT WE
“Doctor, ain't that an island ?''
“What do you say, Grubb? I do not understand
you?”
“ Ain't that an island-a portion of land sur-
rounded by water?"
By this time, we had passed on our right, a muddy
brick-pond; and not being able to see it, an answer
was postponed until our return, in the latter part of
the day.
The meadows on each side of the road were
slightly rolling; it called up in Grubb's mind, his
lesson on mountains.
“Doctor, they ain't mountains, are they?"
“No, Grubb; but what are they?”
“Hills—a mountain is a high rocky portion of
land-them heaps of hay, way over there, look like
little mountains."
“ You are right, Grubb."
A short silence ensued, which was broken by
Grubb.
.
"Doctor, a mountain in the Eastern Continent,
once burned down a whole city!"
- Indeed! what mountain was that?”
"Mount Vesuvius; it wasn't like the mountains
where I live.”
6 What kind of mountain was it?”

GRUBB.
57
“A 'cano, or somethin' like that; a burnin' moun-
tain, with a big hole in the top—a crater—and it
throws out ashes and stuff, just like melted iron and
lead.”
“Grubb, where did you hear about that?”
“Miss
Sread it to us out of a book, and told
us how it was."
Another silence ensued. How earnest is this boy
to acquire knowledge; how he digests, and assimi-
lates the received truths of a day. His book and
his slate are his attached companions, and the road-
side calls up their remembrances. And yet one
short year ago he was in law, Homo fat’uus; one
who has been without understanding from his birth,
and whom the law presumes to be never likely to
attain any."
Our reverie was broken.
“Doctor, what's nine times eight?”
“Seventy-two; what do you want to know for?''
“I forgot; I can't remember that table well."
“What are you going to be, Grubb, when you
become a man?”
“A store-keeper;" * Mr. S— says he'll take me
if I'll learn right smart; I'm learnin', ain't I ?”
* Grubb has recently made himself quite familiar with the scale-
beam and weights.

58
A BOY THAT WE ARE PROUD OF.
"Indeed you are; how old are you?"
“Fourteen years old.”
“When did your father and mother die ?”
“Mother died when I was little; father did not
die so far offy"
“Do you remember your mother?”
“Yes, sir.”
66 Who did she look like?”
“Oh! she was a big, pretty woman; she looked
just like Mrs. ; I loved her a great deal. She
was kind.”
The tears glistened in the poor boy's eyes, and his
heart swelled with the remembrance of a mother's
tenderness.
Thus we rode along, scarcely an object escaping
Grubb's quick notice; animals, houses, church-
spires, grave-yards, factories, engine-houses, and
people, were all subjects for inquiry.
On our return home, after the lapse of half a
day, Grubb called attention to the island in the
brick-pond!
ANECDOTES.—One beautiful, moonlight night, as
we were walking on our way to Germantown,
Grubb was charmed with the quiet loveliness of
every thing about him; he noticed the sparkling

GRUBB.
59
beams that danced upon the waters; he counted
the brightest and largest stars that studded the
sky, and for the first time, to our knowledge, his
inquiries went beyond the actual, when he asked
if the “moon had men and horses in it, like the
earth ?” Presently he again said: “God made the
stars and moon and every thing; my Geography says:
166
The God who made the earth so round,
And every star above,
Looks down upon each little child,
And guards him with His love."
Not long since, Grubb had committed some
offence, for which he was sent to bed, and re-
quested to think about it. During the course of
the afternoon, he was heard engaged in earnest
prayer.
He seemed to feel that his case was a
desperate one, for one of his appeals, most fre-
quently uttered, was, “Oh! can't you make me a
good boy? Oh! try to make me good!”
An old woman, in her poverty and rags, had
been allowed to gather waste coal on our premises.
Grubb saw her, and took a lively interest in her.
He walked at her side, diligently helping her, and
listening to the story of suffering and want, which
affected the boy so much, that he gave her a large
portion from his own little Christmas savings.

60
BOY THAT WE ARE PROUD OF.
A
When asked how he felt, after doing such a kind
act, he laid his hand upon his heart, and said, with
an indescribable pathos, “I feel big in here.”
Grubb was on the way towards the worst form
of idiotcy that can afflict a human being, and the
community. Abandoned to the irregular guidance
of his own propensities -- every ostlery and bar-
room open to his visits, and the corrupt and licen-
tious his familiar associates—what limit could be
set for his degradation?
A fostering care extended over that benighted
spirit, and we find it susceptible to the warm in-
fluences of affection; and a mind of apparently
feeble capacity, is found to develop in a degree
hitherto unhoped for.
There are others in this State in a more painful
situation even than that of Grubb, who are treading
an inevitable retrograde march into the worst de-
pravity of human nature. They are known in their
neighborhoods as vicious idiots, or simpletons, and
are cautiously avoided by those who wish to keep
their families intact from sin. Association is a
law of their nature, as of ours; they seek it where
it may be found, and become the tools and imi-
tators of the infamous.

CHAPTER V.
Our Sewing Girls.
THESE girls are the largest in the Institution,
and are from twelve to fifteen years of age.
ELLEN
Was received into the school at its foundation,
five years ago. We have but few fragments of
her history at home, or of the first two years of
her residence here. That she ate every thing which
came in her way, and that she had severe inter-
mittent fever, attended with convulsions, is all that
we know definitely; the latter were epileptic, and
no doubt, existed independently of the fever.
No pains had been taken to instruct or improve
her; the circumstances of her parents not permit-
ting the expenditure of so much time and money as
6

62
OUR SEWING GIRLS.
it would have required. Hence she was utterly
ignorant; in the language of her attendant, “ She
knew nothing but to eat; to eat leaves, sticks, swill,
trash, and every thing she could get down!"
With her arms strapped behind her back, to
restrain this injurious habit, Ellen wandered about,
a poor disconsolate being, the tears rolling down
her pallid cheeks, and piteously fretting to be taken
home.
For months, she continued in this idiotic melan-
cholia; occasionally, she would suffer from a severe
epileptic convulsion, which weakened still more, her
fatuous mind.
Her habits were careless, and her temper irascible.
She was a low case of epileptic idiocy.
FRANCES.
FRANCES has been in the Institution three
years
and six months, and in attainments was the same
with Ellen.
She had been the victim of acute rheumatism,
which had affected all her joints, so that she could

ELLEN AND FRANCES.
63
scarcely walk. She frequently fell, and received
many severe cuts and bruises; when asked why she
could not ascend a flight of stairs without assistance,
she replied, that “her back was so weak.”
In disposition, she was very cross and sullen, and
until a few months past, she displayed a notoriously
stubborn will. Daily, some slight cause was suffici-
ent to throw her into a paroxysm of anger, in which
she would throw herself upon the floor, cry and kick
violently, and often use coarse and profane language.
Her speech was very defective and spasmodic. List-
less and peevish, though affectionate and exceedingly
sensitive, Frances was a difficult child to control; so
that she retained her social faults, long after she
had began to improve mentally.
Present Condition.-ELLEN and FRANCES, are both
tolerably good readers in Mr. Webb’s Third Reader;
the latter understandingly so; it is one of the most
agreeable sights to us, to witness the avidity, with
which these two children will read any simple story-
books, that come in their way. Both are learning to
write. Frances with much difficulty, on account of
her feeble wrists. They have memorized a number
of arithmetical tables, and are now reducing the
addition table to practice, in the performance of
small sums. They count indefinitely, and compre-

64
OUR SEWING GIRLS.
a
hend the relation of figures to quantities. They are
both quite familiar with the outline maps of the
United States and Pennsylvania, and the “ Child's
First Book in Geography” has been placed in their
hands, from which they learn quite rapidly.
Frances possesses good reflective and observing
powers, and in a slow measured tone, often commits
some very amusing originalities. Ellen on the con-
trary, sees but little, and thinks less. She is extrava-
gantly fond of veils; formerly no lady visitor entered
the school-room, without being interrogated as to
what she had for dinner, and whether she owned
“brown veil.” A number of fine pictures were
shown to her one day, she looked at them with a
degree of attention, that was surprising and encour-
aging; she ran her finger over them; every object
seemed to be criticised; but we were deceived when
she broke out, “Oh! I've found one—there's a lady
with a veil on—it ain't brown, though—it's white !!!
She memorizes far more readily than Frances, and
hence appears to strangers more intelligent; for
proper names, she has astonishing retentiveness.
Few persons visit the Institution a second time, who
have been seen and known by Ellen in their first
visit, that she will not instantly recognize, even if
months, or years may have elapsed between the calls.

LIZZIE.
65
LIZZIE,
A semi-mute, and partially deaf, has been with
us two years.
Under the influence of a good
mother, she had grown up with few moral defects
her habits, however, were very eccentric. She seem-
ed in continual apprehension; dread was graven
deeply, in the tracings of her otherwise pretty face,
and her nimble feet, seemed always ready to bear
her away from imagined danger. She would display
this especially, when interrupted in any pursuit on
which her mind was concentrated. If, when gather-
ing flowers in the grove, (of which she was exceed-
ingly fond,) a person approached, Lizzie started up
like a frightened hare, and bounded away to some
tree or hollow, where she buried her face in her
hands or lap, until the intruder had passed. A harsh
noise, striking suddenly on her ear, would set the
slender muscles of her face in a quiver, and her
hilarious joy would sink into the silence of cringing
fear.
Of an exceedingly active and graceful build, no
fence was too high for her to clamber, and no edge
too narrow for her balance; with a run for " a start,
she could bound over a chair, and in four leaps, de-
6*

66
SEWING GIRLS.
OUR
scend a tolerably long flight of steps. She would
frequently continue a romp of this latter kind, until
perfectly exhausted, she would sink into a chair and
fall into a deep, comatose slumber, from which it was
difficult to arouse her. At such times, her face was
much flushed, head hot and pupils dilated, indicating
that more than mere exhaustion, was the cause of
her deep slumber.
At home, she could not be entrusted with care of
any kind; her infant brother might be placed in her
hands to watch, but her attention, diverted by a
passing sight, or scared by an imagined terror, and
babe was abandoned in cradle or street, as the case
might be.
Some eccentricities, she possessed, which she still
exhibits at times; one of these is a great indisposition
to put on clean clothes: though tidy in her appearance,
her face and hands clean, and hair well combed, this
singularity exists. We suppose it originates, from an
apprehension that some articles of dress will be lost,
by sending them to the laundry, for she is exceed-
ingly particular about her clothing, and when Lizzie
is missed, she may often be found in her dormitory,
busily arranging her bureau, or mending a garment.
This penuriousness of dress is so excessive, that it
has led her into an error, requiring frequent correc-

SARAH.
67
tion. A new pair of stockings, or a black apron, is
too nice to wear, so it is hid in a corner, away
from
observation, but where she can daily bestow an ad-
miring gaze; in the meantime, however, she appro-
priates the clothes of another, to her own necessities,
and it requires a labored argument to persuade her
of the wrong she does her neighbor.
Her language, or gibberish, is rapid, very ex-
pressive in action, and equally unintelligible in
meaning; her countenance sparkles with joyous fer-
vor when describing something pleasing, while it
presents a contrast of the deepest and most painful
emotion, when conveying bad news.
We believe she spoke no intelligible word, when
she came under our care.
SARAH
Has been with us eighteen months. Her anxious
parents had allowed no effort to remain untried,
that held out any hope for her improvement: lively
in disposition, and naturally bright in her face,
they were slow to acknowledge the sad fact of their

68
OUR SEWING GIRLS.
daughter's weakness, and so Sarah was sent to school,
where she became an object for torment to her better
endowed classmates, and a cripple to the progress of
the school. A teacher cannot, in justice, deprive the
mass of her pupils, of the valued time and labor,
which an imbecile mind requires, in its difficulty to
seize the most elementary ideas. Sarah was in the
way; and yet attempts were made by coaxings,
threatenings and punishments, to teach her one fact,
one form, one letter. All was in vain; she hated
school, as bitterly as the school disliked her.
When she came to us, she possessed the common
faults of a pampered imbecile, added to a strong will,
which she was never slow to express by vociferous
cries, and unintelligible complaints.
Her speech was very defective, more than two-
thirds of the primary sounds, being beyond her ability;
her gait was sidling and irregular, her body strongly
bent forward, and its weight thrown on her toes. In
ascending or descending a flight of stairs, she dragged
the left after the right foot, as a child who had but
just commenced walking.
She knew nothing, and was exceedingly inatten-
tive. With open eyes, and gaping mouth, directed
toward a teacher, she neither saw, heard, or spoke.
This last remark is true of many of our children,

LIZZIE AND SARAH.
69
when they first come under our care, “having eyes
they see not, ears, they hear not,” and sometimes
6 hands that handle not.” Some can hear no sound
but the dinner bell, and see no object but a plate of
meat and potatos; others with no eyes to see a cube
or a large black board figure, can quickly detect, and
as soon swallow, minute chips, threads, or hairs on
the floor, which would escape ordinary search.
Present condition.-
LIZZIE and SARAH are not so
advanced as the preceding girls, not having been with
us so long, though their speech has greatly improved;
the former can articulate many words and sentences,
and both are making creditable progress in J. Russel
Webb's First Reader;" they read easy sentences
with facility. They are learning to write, Lizzie is
fond of letter printing, of which a promiscuous selec-
is shown.
eat.rat.
She has an original fancy that conceives many
simple, but pretty designs; often her slate will be
covered with drawings of neat collar patterns, or a
boquet of flowers, &c., all the work of a single morn-
ing.

70
OUR SEWING GIRLS.
SARAH is making some progress in outline Geogra-
phy, writes excellent figures, and has recently com-
menced small addition sums.
LIZZIE is no longer the wild girl of one year ago,
but a confiding, modest child, exceedingly loving
towards all who display affection for her. Some
eccentricities still remain, that with reference to her
clothing has, perhaps, increased in force. One of her
peculiarities more recently noticed, is self-inflicted
punishment, when she is conscious of having com-
mitted an offence. She does not always wait for
discovery, but voluntarily seeks her room, where
she will remain without food and bitterly weep over
her misconduct.
Her natural grace and agility, is not displayed so
much now as formerly, in rude romps, and the cata-
leptic attacks have entirely disappeared. She is ex-
cessively fond of dancing, and excels in that beauti-
ful exercise ; she is quite accomplished too, in our
new dumb bell exercise, having learned the musical
alphabet by simple observation.
This interesting child we will be compelled to lose,
if some provision cannot be made for her mainten-
She has been with us two years, through the
philanthropy of a worthy citizen; this was, of neces-
sity, withdrawn some time since; we hope that some
ance.

7017 거
​We
PENCIL DRAWING BY LIZZIE,


OUR SEWING GIRLS.
71
us.
way may appear by which she will be preserved to
With two years more of close training, she
may become a valuable and permanent aid, in our
kitchen or laundry.
We have called ELLEN, FRANCES, LIZZIE and SARAH
our “Sewing Class." They are fairly entitled to
such distinction, as they have learned to be quite
neat plain sewers, and make a fair proportion of sheet-
ing, pillow cases, &c. Two, hem handkerchiefs, and
knit well; Lizzie has worked a “smoking cap,"
and shown much aptness in its execution; while
Frances makes lamp stands, &c., with zephyrs. Per-
forated card work is an amusement they indulge in.
Recently, they have been seen patching each other's
dresses, and sewing on apron strings, when occasion
demanded.
Lizzie, so utterly untrustworthy a few months ago,
has become quite an aid in our domestic concerns; it
is no longer temerity, to place in her entire care, one
of our most unmanageable girls. Day after day,
Lizzie is sought by Eliza, as her companion in
walking, and the former is never known to abandon
the poor, dependent creature, unless the latter
becomes violently obstinate to go where she should
not, when Lizzie runs for assistance.
All these girls may be entrusted with the care of

72
OUR SEWING GIRLS.
nary work.
the more feeble, for short periods of time. They are
all anxious to wait on table, and do it tolerably well.
Ellen is said to be an excellent kitchen girl, for ordi-
.
They all have an unfortunate habit of eating inor-
dinately, and at all times, which disqualifies them,
as yet, to be left much to themselves; in time this,
we hope, may be broken up. Our accommodations,
in our present building, are not such as to admit of
complete training in domestic duties, which are so
essential to their future usefulness, and our attempts
are greatly embarassed. In the building in course
of erection, (see frontispiece,) a “culinary school"
for the girls, is contiguous to the kitchen, in which
they will be taught bread, cake and pie making, and
all the et ceteras for which they may be competent. .
One interesting item in connection with these
children is, that they are assembled every evening,
before their retirement, and either Ellen or Frances
reads from the Bible, a chapter adapted to their com-
prehension, after which they unite in silent prayer.
For this exercise they manifest a serious regard, and
that it has elevated their moral characters we have
no doubt.

CHAPTER VI.
four Low Tasp%.
ANNA
Has been with us but a short time. She is very
unprepossessing in appearance; and it is rare that
her eye can be long arrested, to gaze at anything;
she is extremely obstinate, and submits with ill grace
to any authority; and yet, beneath that rude and re-
pulsive exterior, are hidden some tracings of intellect,
which, as the slight pencilings of sunlight, on the
sensitive plate, may be intensified, when properly
fostered and encouraged.
She had been with us nearly two days, before she
voluntarily tasted food; no coaxing could induce her
to be seated at our table, and immediately, when
forcible effort was made, her slender body was
bent as a bow, and no exertion could fix her in her
7

74
FOUR LOW CASES.
chair; when asked to go, or do anything, however
simple the request, and easy its accomplishment, she
dropped, as lead, to the floor, and her body, with her
obstinacy, seemed to treble its actual weight.
No articulate sound escaped her, excepting a dis-
agreeable and almost incessant moan, that it is im-
possible to describe or compare. Her only amusement
consisted in unraveling ropes; she would find these
in the most secreted places, and stand by the hour,
if so allowed, absorbed with this eccentric pleasure.
Her attention was soon diverted from such useless
and destructive diversion, to threading beads, of
which she is now passionately fond.
By firm discipline, at first followed by a gradual
and temperate exhibition of affection, the child has
lost
very
much of her perverseness; she now never
throws herself upon the floor in obstinacy, but often
signifies much pleasure when called up in a class
with others; she has even attempted to join in sing-
ing, and makes very creditable efforts at dancing.
She marches in drills, and uses the dumb bells with
much energy, while, at the table, no one would rec-
ognize the bad habits of a few weeks since.
Anna has a warm heart. She is always ready to
receive visitors, by pressing forward to shake their
hands, and “goo' bye” has become an habitual ex-

SALLIE.
75
pression with her.
"Look there,” and “tie,” are
words she has recently made use of. IIer brow
is no longer lowering, towards all and every thing,
but a sweet smile often plays over her features, when
praised for any feeble, though great, feat she may
have performed; and the remark is sometimes made,
“Anna can look really pretty."
SALLIE,
An innocent little girl of eleven years, has been
afflicted the greater portion of her life, with epilepsy;
her attacks are very much less frequent than former-
ly, she having had but three paroxysms during the
past year, these were very severe, however, and pros-
trated her exceedingly.
She was a perfect mute, and, one year ago, sat in
our school, the most listless child there; nothing
could animate her, not even music. When called
upon to unite in any thing, her head turned obsti-
nately to one side, her eyes closed, her teeth set, the
type of perverseness. She was extremely nervous;
the most trivial annoyance throwing her into great

76
FOUR LOW CASES.
agitation, in which she would often fall to the floor,
severely injuring herself. Sallie was an object for
our pity, and this, and to make her comfortable,
seemed to be the only offices to discharge towards
her.
Under a medicinal course, continued for some
months, her physical condition very much improved;
she occasionally exhibited interest, in any excite-
ment occurring around her, and one morning, she
was heard vehemently scolding a room-mate-
“Naughty girl — tell Miss
Soon after, she
was noticed on our piazza with a mute, lower than
herself, attempting to instruct him how to stride a
hobby horse; in her anxiety that he should succeed,
she struck him on the back, exclaiming, “up! Ab!
up!”
She now threads beads with great rapidity, and
shows much taste in their arrangement; selecting
from a saucer of different colors, all those of light
shade, preferring those of light, to dark blue, &c.
What we consider, for Sallie, a wonderful perform-
ance is, that she places in position all the blocks in
the form boards.
She even joins in our school room songs, especial-
ly in that nursery favorite, “Happy Land," some of
the words of which she articulates. In the exercise

MARY.
77
of general phonetics, she often takes an interested
part, and she has been induced to elevate her voice
to the highest key, in the pronunciation of some
words. Her amiability, is of course greatly increased.
She seldom resists mild authority, and a few encour-
aging words, or a little adulation, will generally
charm her out of any trouble she may be in.
When we remember this little creature, with quiv-
ering limbs, averted head, and closed eyes, one of
the most hopeless of our unpromising children; and
now see her with steady hand, sparkling eye, and
laughing face, busily engaged with her beads and
blocks, we are greatly encouraged to protract our
efforts in every individual case, and are slow to pro-
nounce any case as incapable of improvement.
FM ART.
A sprightly, frail child of twelve years; chiefly
interesting, as an epileptic case, in which there has
been a suspension of attacks for ten months. At
home they had been frequent and severe, continuing
in convulsion twelve or eighteen hours, and hence,
7*

78
FOUR LOW CASES.
her energies were greatly enfeebled and her mind
impaired. She has not had a single attack, since her
entrance into the Institution.
Though one of our most intelligent looking chil-
dren, she is one of the slowest in the acquirement
of the most rudimental fact. Block building, and
bead stringing, she is fond of, and these are the
elementary steps, by which she may some time ele-
vate herself to a more prominent place in our school.
ANNIE.
This poor child was admitted eighteen months
ago, and presented as disgusting an appearance as
human nature can assume. About nine years of age,
her head was of extraordinary size, and thickly cov-
ered with long, coarse, black hair, which hung over
her downcast brow, and hid most of her face.
When, by accident, her eyes could be seen, they were
found to be jet black, and glaring as with some
smothered passion that swelled for expression. Her
face was pale and emaciated, her form stooped, and
cat-like in its movements, and her driveling, open
jaws, made up her personal characteristics.

ANNIE.
79
Her habits were very filthy; she had no selective-
ness of food, so that the dog's kennel, or the swill
barrel, were frequent resorts to gratify her morbid
appetite.
Her only language was in vociferous and passion-
ate cries; she had never been known to utter a word,
Repulsive herself, she had been repelled by others,
so that confidence had died out, or, perhaps, had
never dawned in her bosom.
In her early school room experience, she exhibited
great fondness for bead stringing, and to this day,
the familiar box of beads is always new to her, and
is greeted with loud demonstrations of pleasure,
when taken from the case.
In this innocent and improving amusement, she
expended her surplus nervous energy, threading with
a rapidity that was remarkable, but yet there seem-
ed no fixedness of thought, for her eyes leeringly
scowled from under her dark and prominent brows,
until, attracting notice, her face was instantly buried
in her hands or lap.
Efforts were sometimes made to persuade the child
to raise her head for a moment, and exchange look
for look; it was thought that her obstinacy might be
tired out by long sittings, but all that was done, either
by persuasion, coercion or patience, was entirely
fruitless. She seemed shut out from the world by

80
FOUR LOW CASES.
her own seclusiveness, and after long and wearisome
trials to win her confidence, and repeated failures,
interest was in a measure lost in her, and she seem-
ed more repulsive than ever. But at this time, when
least observed, she was making greatest improve-
ment.
66
One day “Home, Sweet Home” was played on a
musical instrument, and the words sung; to our
children the piece was new, and many little faces
kindled, as the sweet and touching chorus struck on
their ears. And Annie-poor, obstinate, wilful Annie
-caught the measured strains, and perchance was in-
spired with the burden of those beautiful words,
Home, Sweet Home;" for in a distant corner, alone,
she was responding in a way that was strangely new;
her head, jaws, and limbs, all moving in harmony
with the heart stirring music.
Still, the child did not repose that confidence in
those about her, which must be obtained, to make
our labor successful. Her palsied humanity required
a startling impression, to awaken a trusting attach-
ment:-an opportunity occurred.
An abscess over the knee joint, had given the child
much pain for several days: her piteous cries, and her
pale face, told the sufferings that language failed to.
She was put to bed, the abscess opened, and im-
mediate relief followed; so that she fell into a sweet,

ANNIE.
81
refreshing sleep. Early next morning, Annie came
bounding forward, with a wild joy that cannot be for-
gotten, pulled her pants up, exclaiming, “Docky!
Docky! look 'a there!"
A new era, had broken upon the darkened chaos,
of her idiotic mind; she had been touched with sym-
pathy; the sharp edge of the lancet, had accomplish-
ed more than the mere relief to pain: it had a strong
moral effect upon her, and the person whose hand
had guided it, was thereafter an idol to the poor little
girl.
Those simple words, “Docky! look 'a there,” be-
came her habitual expression; a thousand objects be-
fore unnoticed, she was now concious had an exist-
ence, and with every new discovery of beauty, form
or motion, her joyous “eureka" loudly proclaimed
it, to those in whom her faith had been established.
Annie now rapidly improved, she became as
boisterously affectionate, as she had been before re-
pulsive, and her habits underwent corresponding
change. Our register enumerates several words that
she has given utterance to—“Ellen," "dog bite me,”
“want dinnah,” &c.
She engages in the ordinary simple exercises of
children of her class, and we shall watch her pro-
gress with great interest.

CHAPTER VII.
Two Interesting Semi-Mutes.
ALFREI,
A large, fine looking, and well developed boy of
nineteen years, was admitted, semi-mute and partially
deaf. He was wild and unmanageable at home, de-
spising authority, and possessing a full share of self-
reliance. Very kind to little children, he was
tyrannical and tormenting to his equals in age, while
any exhibition of gentleness towards himself, was
loudly jeered as “baby! baby!” Head-strong, he
had picked up some facts intuitively, and what
could not be so acquired, he allowed to slip as
beneath his notice, generally exclaiming, “Pooh!
-won't do !”
A few facts from his early history are note-worthy.
He did not walk until two years of age, and was
tongue tied in babyhood. Between his third and

ALFRED.
83
fourth year, he assumed the culinary office, in the
absence of his mother. Dough had been left by the
stove to rise, our young hopeful proceeded to make
it into flat cakes, and the baking was progressing
finely when the mother returned.
At five years of age, having broken a pane of
glass, he was so frightened that he left his home, was
lost, and not found for two days; he had wandered
nearly three miles away, and was found by a lady,
crying bitterly. The little speechless boy, was taken
from the cold door step, and kindly cared for, until
his friends obtained a clue to his whereabouts.
In his eighth year, he accomplished a hazardous
feat, that came very near resulting in his death by
drowning. The Delaware, being thinly frozen over,
Alfred unwittingly went upon it to slide. The first
few steps from the wharf were firm, but the ice be-
ginning to break, the boy ran with the fleetness of
an antelope, for an adjoining wharf, half a square
distant. A crowd of spectators stood in breathless
anxiety for his safety. At every footfall, the brittle
ice gave way, and the water gushed up through the
opening; but Alfred was too nimble to be caught in
the breaking fragments; he gained the piers of the
distant wharf in safety, and was lifted up, amid
shouts of joy from the excited throng.

84
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
In his eleventh year, his parents, as pioneers, trav-
eled for the distant west. Alfred accompanied
them; the rough life, and continual changes of this
period, were very congenial to his tastes; he observed
everything, and stored away numerous facts that
most boys would have passed unnoticed. The pon-
derous machinery of the Western rivers delighted
him, and he would stand by the hour, watching every
motion of the engineer in the government of his
valves and cranks.
After a residence of one year in Iowa, the mother
with her children returned to Philadelphia. Alfred
was now a large boy, and disposed to care for him-
self; his industry led him to the markets, where for
a small compensation, he assisted the hucksters
with their produce. Regularly, at five o'clock, he
would be found at the wagons, unloading them, and
arranging the stalls. So trustworthy was he, that
large quantities of vegetables, were thus consigned
solely to his care, and sometimes even their sale,
when prices were marked to aid him.
With a
worthy zeal, he had learned to count and give change.
This became essential to him, when engaged with a
relative, in the manufacture of segars and torpedoes;
of these he made large quantities, when so disposed,
and packed them away by tens.

ALFRED.
85
Alfred's taste was all for excitement, and this he
sought in the most natural places, in a large city-
the engine house, police station and bar room. No
street fight, and no arrest, occurred in his ward that
Alfred was not on the ground, perseveringly obtain-
ing what details of the case he could. On his return,
the scene was elaborately represented to his friends,
with violent gestures and excited gibberish. No
alarm of fire was sounded, that Alfred's ear did not
catch, and his fleetness put him among the first at
the burning building where, nimble as a cat, he
seemed in every place, with a hand for every thing.
For parades, ship launchings, political meetings, &c.,
he seemed to possess a fore-knowledge, being always
an attentive observer, and entering freely into the
enthusiasm of all parties and all complexions. His
quick perception took in more, through his eyes,
than many would, with perfect senses.
His associations were thus thrown among the most
reckless and wicked of our population, whose vicious
conduct and habits the boy eagerly imitated. It was
impossible to comprehend more than a few words, of
his voluble gibberish; his oaths, however, were ter-
ribly plain, and when angered no limitation was set
to them; ordinarily he used them very frequently,
and directed to all objects, animate or inanimate.
8

86
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
We were at first surprised at his proficiency, in this,
and his deficiency, in other forms of speech; but we
remembered that oaths are by far the most frequent-
ly repeated words in the language, and our poor boy
had been educated, line upon line, to utter his
meaningless blasphemy.
How far he has been made a tool, by lawless
gangs, no one can tell; we interpret, from his own
narratives, that frequently he has been put forward
for the commission of crimes, where hardened vil-
lains were fearful of detection, while they knew that
Alfred's condition, would screen him from arrest and
punishment. His proclivity for arson, when he first
came among us, confirms this opinion. He did not
comprehend the wrong, in setting on fire a neighbor-
ing meadow of dry hay, and it was fine sport to him
when, with a barrow loaded with blazing materials,
he rushed through the grounds, yelling and laugh-
ing, and enveloped in a cloud of flame and smoke.
He was very fond of theatrical performances, and
always brought home a rich entertainment for his
friends: the ludicrous portions of a play were faith-
fully represented, and his merriment on such occa-
sions, was immoderate. His powers of mimicry are
remarkable; there is no crippled step that he cannot
mock, and no eccentricity of manner or movement,

ALFRED
87
ly with
that his quick eye does not perceive: some of our
boys, he knows by name, but the majority are desig-
nated by some peculiarity in gait or habit. With
some, this mimicry involves him in trouble; especial-
big Edward,” of equal size and superior
pugnacity: the latter has become more reconciled to
Alfred's mischievous fun, excusing him as "the crazy
boy with a hole in his head."
Alfred's attainments when he came with us, were
few, as may be derived from the above; he had never
been fond of books; confinement to any set pursuit,
was irksome; his concentrativeness was sadly defi-
cient; whatever he did was spasmodic, and more from
fancy, than with a rational impulse to execute. Most
of his letters he had accidentally picked up; he knew
their forms, but articulated only a few, correctly,
likewise so with numerals.
We anticipated much trouble, to keep Alfred with-
in the discipline of our place, and concluded to allow
his innocent caprices and harmless mischief, grad-
ually introducing him to our habits. In a little while
this course was eminently successful.
He is now punctual at his desk, when not prevent-
ed by other employment. No books were imposed
upon him at first: his slate and pencil occupied his
attention pleasantly; he was fond of figures and ad-

88
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
dition, multiplication and subtraction were rapidly
acquired, and now he is working in division. As new
tables were given, they were carefully written by him,
on loose scraps of paper, and he is frequently found,
alone, industriously studying them. Recently, he has
been placed at the letter board and reading book;
his progress is slow; all active verbs, must be acted,
and all nouns, represented, to convey to him an under-
standing of the words he reads: of course he learns
the meaning of groups of letters, before he can re-
call their names. A stranger, might be amused with
one of our “reading lessons;" the word "jump" is
thoughtfully considered, and a vigorous leap suits
action to it; the name cannot be given. “Catch,"
he represents by seizing a class mate by the arm, and
treating him police style; this evolution helps him to
the word. The sentence 66 You'll catch it!" is a
favorite one. The jaws masticate an imaginary food,
when “eat" is the word, and animals are represented,
not very accurately, however, by the sounds they
make. We find greatest difficulty to convey to his
mind, an impression of the particles of language,
though we are much surprised with the rapidity,
with which he commits these by rote, before he will
the more familiar objects around him : “so,” “into,"
“be," "had," &c., he has soon learned, while it was

ALFRED.
89
a week, before the term “cow,” as applied to the
assemblage of letters and the animal that browsed
within sight of his window, was known. When he
had learned the meaning of c-o-w, which he indica-
ted, by putting his fingers as horns to his head, it
was a long time, before he would call the word or the
animal appropriately, frequently answering “ chair,"
and “hog," instead of cow; though both of the for-
mer objects were familiar to him, when meeting their
symbols in his book; for, point to the word “ chair,"
and he laid his hand on the back of his own,-point
to the word “hog,” and he answered with a squeal:
but call these objects by name, and although he
might repeat the words by imitation, yet of their
meaning he was totally unconscious. We have dwelt
thus much in detail, as we think that some of our
readers, interested in psychological phenomena, will
derive some pleasure, in an analysis of the quality
of mind, presented in this case.
Alfred, in this eccentric manner, is making com-
mendable progress in reading, and will, no doubt,
after protracted exercise, read understandingly. His
improvement in vocalization, is slow but positive;
but his habits of enunciation, have become so con-
firmed, that we fear he will never improve so much,
as to be able to converse intelligibly, unless some
8*

90
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
change takes place, by which the will, may more
effectually govern the vocal apparatus.
Wild as Alfred is, he is quite obedient to firm and
just authority. He is far more likely to ridicule,
than to resist government, and under such circum-
stances, if once the rigid face of discipline, is relaxed
into a smile, at his amusing antics, there is an end to
control, and with loud hurrahs and reckless leapings,
he is beyond persuasion and order, in an instant.
Alfred is industrious; in work, play, or mischief,
he is never slow. Not long since, when a company
of our boys were returning, by cars, from a jaunt
they had taken, Alfred, delighted with the know-
ledge that their faces were homeward, gave expression
to his feelings, in a variety of “capers.” The drowsy
travelers in the car, were all kept awake by the
strange boy,” and a jolly, social, old judge, particu-
larly amused with him, called him “Sanguinity," a
name most applicable.
In the earnest desire he shows, to be taught read-
ing, he would shame many of our younger friends. .
His spelling book is carried in his pocket, and any
person who will spend a minute with him, is eagerly
sought. On Sabbath days we have frequently found
him in his room, with a Bible in his lap, opened at
the favorite psalm, “The Lord is my Shepherd.”
לל
06

ALFRED.
91
This is often repeated by our school in concert, and
poor Alfred tries to recognize the words in the book,
by the confusion of sounds the recitation has made
in his mind.
This interesting boy is very fond of music — fre-
quently, when all our children are singing, he will
sit silent and sad in a corner, a tear starting to his
fine eye, and more than once he has tried to throw
in a few notes with the melody, modestly concealing
his mouth with his hand when so doing.sk
An old accordeon is an article of great delight to
him; he places his ear close to the keys, and enjoys
the changing tones which he produces. Occasionally,
after dusk, he attempts a serenade for our neighbors
—the cracked accordeon and his dismal caterwaul-
ing, are good accompaniments.
Recently he has been given a little instruction on
the melodeon-he has learned the four chords in a
natural key, almost without aid, and a hope is en-
tertained that he may become a performer.
We are unable to say, to what extent he has a
knowledge of God and his attributes. The roll of
thunder, seems to impress him with a sense of religi-
ous veneration; he crosses his hands, and looks
towards heaven, with evident awe. The Bible, when
shown him, and asked “Who did it?” he invariably

92
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
exhibits the same signs. His home education has
not been such as to instruct him in these things, and
it is an interesting inquiry, whether he possesses
intuitively, a recognition of the existence of God.
That it is not the sound of thunder that he con-
siders God, but rather that the latter produces the
former, is inferred from the fact that he personifies
Deity as a man, by stroking his own face (represent-
ing beard) and looking towards the fancied place of
his abode.
Of right and wrong he possesses a general concep-
tion. It is his habit, when he has committed any
infringement of our rules, scrupulously to avoid any
contact with the injured parties, even before charge
has been made. We can always surmise, from his
clouded brow and high color, when any thing is
amiss.
We feel, that from the considerable progress he
has made, that ultimately he will become a useful
man. His vacillating habits are not peculiar to him;
his youthful vigor must find a natural expansion, as
is the case with all youth; and we are sure that the
quiet of school, and the even tenor of country life,
with its healthful employments and recreation, will
in a year or two, very much modify his boisterous,
inconstant disposition, and qualify him for some

JOHNNIE93
.
.
steady occupation, at which he may make a liveli-
hood.
We are about to put him at a sewing machine, in
our own building; for this he manifests great interest,
and if his zeal continues, he will make for himself
a comfortable maintenance.
Much space has been devoted to Alfred. Our
apology must be, the large place he shares in our
affection. He is a big boy, wild by nature, but
domesticating himself, wherever he is treated gen-
erously; and exhibiting all the simplicity, modesty,
and confidence of a little child.
JOHNNIE.
On page 21 of Dr. Parrish's report for 1858, the
following remarks and case are given:
“Defective Articulation. Under this head, we in-
clude all imperfections of speech, not before referred
to; as stammering, lisping, or a dropping of certain
letters, or syllables from a word. The defect may
be purely functional, or it may be the result of
anatomical malformation. Naturally intelligent chil-

94
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
dren
may
be taken for imbeciles on account of this
deficiency. They cannot say what they think; and
the very fact of their inability to make themselves
understood, often prevents them from repeating the
effort; and they settle down into a listless condition,
which they have not the energy to resist, until the
mind fails to be developed, for the want of stimulus
to effort. These are very interesting and instructive
cases, and demand especial care—care that is not
contemplated in ordinary systems of instruction.
The following brief glossary, will exhibit the pecu-
liarities of one case, now under treatment, in which
the language is singularly perverted.
66
66
6 Bee-wee
means Little, small, or few.
Hawdey
Up, out, away.
Bobby
Dog.
Dindey
Car, or cars.
Daw-day
Sunday, or God's day.
Daddy-beau
A nurse.
Gongy
Dirty, ugly.
Gongy-bomey Dirty, ugly, (more emphatic
than Gongy.)
Houngy
Home.
Hou-day
This day.
My
I, me, my.
66
66

JOHNNIE.
95
66 Own-hoo
means Sugar.
Bread.
Pee-bay
Pee-pay
Tee-haw
66
66
Ting-ting day
Tondy
Tingy
&c., &c., &c.
Paper.
Cold water.
Christmas day.
A carriage.
A string.
66
“This child understands distinctly what is meant
by the use of proper language. If he is asked to
have water or sugar, it is not necessary to employ
his synonyms for these words,—Tee-haw and Own-
hoo,-for his mind fully appreciates the difference
between the true and false names; but because of
his general physical infirmity, there is a lack of
ability to command his articulation.”
To the curious, and to the philologist, it will be
interesting to give examples of the mode, in which
this child associates his symbols, to express his ideas.
1. Gět å koky, bot-á ah-notin, te no body.
The first half of this sentence, is derived from a
popular song, which was partially learned by Johnnie
some years ago. The whole sentence he repeats many
times a day, and under many different circumstances.
If interested in some pictures or with a map, he

96
TWO INTERESTING SEMI-MUTES.
quietly repeats them. If any glad news is suddenly
told him, this breaks forth, as pleasure, &c.
2. Mi dac ăn tao-she dã từ: bes shang 1mg 0.
I
glad when cod-fish day come: best thing
in world.
out
not.
б
Beau melodeon in
3. Mi ở hoc p00 bông had mõ.
I know how pull bones
The peculiar grammatical construction of the
sentences above, will be observed.
4. Eē ba lỗ dăm ông mah himg ; Beau gồ-ka img
Lizzie opened box, throw down on my finger;
>; Beau no ing o.
office; Beau not in office.
The lid of the melodeon case was thrown upon
Johnnie's fingers; he complains to Beau, the intimate
lady friend who performs, telling her where the in-
strument had been placed. All musical instruments
are go-kas, we believe.
6. Dð hawdy tā, ing daddy-beau's oom- —dă õng ding. .
Go
up
stairs
in
nurse's
room
get one
drink.
Daddy-beau, is an habitual title for all nurses,
male or female.

96

99

CHAPTER VIII.
Our Little Mimics.
NEODIE.
NED is a child of misfortune, yet no one could be
more indifferent to fate, and take reverses with more
philosophic resignation.
A pigmy in size, and incessant talker, conversant
with all subjects, Ned is a universal favorite and yet
a universal pest. He was born to command; and
though his intellect is no match for his authority,
the latter he will be sure to exert, even if it is con-
fined within the humble limits, of an asylum, for his
kind. There is sufficiently of the Emerald Isle in
his ancestral line, to give him a nationality, and a
character -- hence, without knowledge, he always
knows, and in utter ignorance, he will always ans-
wer—the last friend, or the friend of today, is the
best friend he ever knew; and in the affection he
9

100
OUR LITTLE MIMICS.
is an apt scholar in dancing, and imitates in the most
laughable manner, the genuflections of his instructor.
Ned's smartness consists in good guessing—hence
in outline geography he shows to good advantage, if
the questions are "in order”-his sight is so imper-
fect that he can not see much that is printed, yet his
memory by rote is good, and all the capitals of the
States are known by name to him.
He has a glibe tongue, a keen appreciation of
music, a mellow voice, and good time—all the
qualifications to make him a singer; a tune struck
too low, always calls from him the exclamation, “Oh,
that there is too low," &c.
He is capable of Emerald bulls. In the room
above his dormitory, a large tank is situated, into
which the water was allowed to run through all one
night. Next morning, Ned entered complaint, as
follows: “Oh, my dracious! the tank run in my
head so, I could sleep not all night!”
His redeeming virtue is, that he is a reliable
errand boy; his little legs fly to an order, and his
tongue does not falter, in its correctness. This is
remarkable for his years, and points to usefulness in
his more developed condition.
Neddie's history reveals a sad and fearful state of
morals, among the degraded classes of our large

NEDDIE.
101
cities. His idiotcy and disease, may be traced di-
rectly to the want of nurture, in his early years; and
it becomes a question of political economy, whether
legal supervision, ought not to seek out, and correct
the terrible abuses which, we are too certain, exist
in the low abodes of squalid want and vice. How
many little, suffering children, raise their piteous wail
to heaven, from those haunts of licentiousness, and
degradation! Steeped and seethed in crime, from
the moment they enter the world, and hardened as
steel, by brutality; what surprise is it, that, before
their tongues cease lisping, they commence swearing,
and before men, they are murderers; and, while we
tolerate a nursery of crime, why wonder and regret,
that annually our criminal records, expose such a
large percentage of juvenile theft, outrage, arson,
and murder?
It is such lamentable associations, too, that produce
the majority of our morally insane, and idiotic;
because all law, physiologic, human and divine, is
defied and violated.
9*

102
OUR LITTLE MIMICS.
ALICE
Is a little girl of nearly eight years. The victim of
acute and chronic disease, she was presented to us,
fifteen months ago; a decrepid, pale, torpid, and
almost toothless child, with keen black eyes, a very
protruding under jaw, stooped shoulders, and ungain-
ly walk.
She did not engage in the sports of our children,
but preferred to crouch in a corner, or bask in the
sun; her withered, demure look, gaining for her the
appellation of grandmother."
For several months she used little or no speech;
we regarded her as a semi-mute, though lately, we
have been informed that at home she spoke some
words, but had never articulated sentences.
The child needed association of her own age; she
had never been accustomed to it, and its strangeness
paralyzed her energies. To open a communication
with her, she was placed at dumb-bells, of which she
soon became fond; her next step was to engage,
with mongrel sounds, in the hymns of the children;
and phonetics were brought to bear on her case, with
decided advantage. Her seclusiveness was broken
through, and the warm gushings of childhood were

STALICE.
103
again loosened, and flowed toward any one that be-
stowed a smile, or a caress upon ALICE.
She was
no longer the sullen, speechless and crouching little
deformity; for health bloomed on her cheeks, soul
sparkled in the light from her eyes, and her language
was as free and varied, as the swiftly changing im-
pressions of her developing mind.
She takes great pleasure in singing “Happy
Land," and one of the earliest sentences she uttered
was, a request that it should be sung. The first
sentence she constructed was under the following
circumstances: she had mislaid her shoes the night
before, and in the morning was in much anxiety to
find them, so as to be in time for breakfast. A long
search had only increased her uneasiness, when,
opening a closet door, she espied her shoes. She
jumped for joy, exclaiming, “My sakes! this is my
shoe-I 'clare." She soon after, became a notorious
talker, and in the early morning, while dressing, one
might imagine that Alice had entire supervision of
the household, from her multiform questions and
orders among the children.
She is very eager to appear well in company, and
hence takes considerable notice of what is going on
around her, receiving in an indirect way, many little
grains of knowledge. She has become tolerably

104
OUR LITTLE MIMICS.
acquainted with the outline map of the United States,
and is an echo of the class in Geography, screaming
at the top of her voice, all that they say. She
reads short words, and in block building is quite
ingenious. We entertain hopes of very considerable
advance in her case.

ou iOS
to


todo
tu
CHAPTER IX.
Our Southern Boy.
EDWIN
We cannot better introduce the history of Edwin,
than by the following summary of a letter, written
by his brother.
“For some time before his birth, Edwin's father
had been in the habit of eating opium to excess.
The impress was left upon the constitution of the
child. He was a quiet infant, and was never known
to cry, except when hurt. He did not walk till he
was six years old, and was very timid. He never
talked, but knew and called his household associates
by name. He asked for nothing, and all his wants
had to be anticipated.
“At seven years he showed some signs of im-
provement. He was fond of riding on horseback
with his brother, and was especially interested in

106
OUR SOUTHERN BOY.
the dogs on the farm, and spent much time with
them. He loved his home, but cared not for boys
or books; had no contrivance nor energy. He
was fond of solitude, and indulging this taste, soon
fell from his apparent improvement, became un-
cleanly in his habits, and sank into a state of lethargy
and unconcern, though he was always fond of
caresses and indulgence. His parents died within
about a year of each other, and he manifested no
feeling or apparent knowledge of their departure."
The most striking incidents in his history, are
thus described :
“When Edwin was about seven years old, it was
a habit to imitate my father in holding religious
service at night, before retiring to bed; he would
through with all the ceremony; he would first read,
as he pretended, a chapter in the Bible or any book
convenient, then stand up and sing awhile, then
kneel down and pray, modulating his voice while
praying, so that one not close enough to hear dis-
tinctly, would think some person was really at
prayers, would always pronounce “Amen' very dis-
tinctly when through. It was a habit with him
also, to make speeches, (as the family used to call
them,) to his shadow, on the wall, occasioned by the
candle-light. His gestures were truly remarkable,
go

EDWIN.
107
course.
not only gracefully made, but at proper times. He
would emphasize his words, and appeared to be try-
ing to convince his shadow of something highly
important, and sometimes would become so much
interested in his cause as to entirely forget where he
was, and on being disturbed would exprsss great
dissatisfaction at it, and commence again in a man-
ner as though he had lost the connection of his dis-
It was remarked by all that saw him in
one of these moods, to be something most singular.
Since the death of his parents I have never heard
him engage in one of these speeches.”
Edwin was brought to us, one hot day in the
month of August, 1856, having traveled more than
three thousand miles. Exhausted by fatigue and
exposure to heat, he presented a most pitiable con-
dition. His face was wrinkled, as with age, and the
skin had a parchment look; his yellow hair hung
over his light blue, expressionless eyes, which he
carefully hid with his raised arm, when the least
notice was turned upon him. Even with support,
his gait was difficult and tottering, throwing out his
limbs with hesitation, and feeling the soil in advance
of him, before fixing his foot.
Every object, animate or inanimate, was received
with apprehension or great alarm, which he simply
exhibited by kicking, and crying, “Oh!”

108
OUR SOUTHERN BOY.
He employed no articulate speech, either by per-
suasion or imitation, and expressed no natural
wants, even by signs.
We considered him one of our lowest cases of
idotcy. No dawn of cheering intelligence beamed
from those leaden eyes; no smile of pleasure played
over those marred features; the semblance of man
only was seen-impassive, unobserving, and intel-
lectually dead. He would lounge by the hour,
basking himself in the warm sun; no question would
arouse him, no want compel him to change his
favorite place.
It was necessary to stimulate him to some exer-
tion, to teach him that his limbs were motive and
not motionless, so he was made to walk and run,
supported on each side by strong arms; this he re-
sisted with all his strength, contorting his body in
every possible direction, and making the most re-
markable grimaces we ever remember to have seen.
An accordeon, for which he pretended great fear,
was played behind him, he hobbled away from it,
supporting himself by the backs of chairs, and the
side walls, as an infant who is commencing to walk.
A strong impression was necessary to arouse him to
this exertion, and the signs of terror he exhibited,
were only expressive of his opposition to the exercise
he was compelled to take.

EDWIN.
109
One of the first articulate sounds made, more than
oh! was about a month after his residence with us.
A colored barber coming up the road to our door,
Edwin, indolently lounging on the piazza, accident-
ally caught sight of him; his head raised from his
hand, his blue eyes for the first time filled with
astonishment. It was the first negro that he had
seen since leaving his southern home, and his glad
heart leaped within his bosom, as he exclaimed,
“Oh, you!" This spontaneous outburst had its
origin, no doubt, in some dim remembrance of his
distant home, as he has since given many conclusive
evidences of retained impressions.
Edwin soon used his limbs, though very feebly
and awkwardly; he raised each foot as high as his
opposite knee, and sometimes held it for a moment,
as if questioning the safety of the floor, or the validity
of terra firma. A stairway was Edwin's most fright-
ful trial; and although the odor of dinner, and the
musical ring of the bell, both of which his senses
now rejoice in perceiving, might tempt his footsteps
down the flight, yet his terrors often got the mastery
of him; if allowed, he would crawl down, feet fore-
most, with the most amusing care.
Swings, rocking boats, ladders, wheelbarrows-
every possible thing that could be employed for his
10

110
OUR SOUTHERN BOY.
amusement or instruction, were all alike objects of
fright. We always considered that he was an im-
postor in the amount of fear he displayed, and hence
disregarded his cries and struggles.
Though very fond of music, he would not approach
the instrument, and effort to draw him toward it was
forcibly resisted; at such times he would use some
odd ejaculations, “Oh! my sakes, I's scared!” “Oh!
car' me out!" &c. Occasionally he used an oath in
the usual style. Recently, he was induced, after
much trial, to take a chalk pencil in hand. Then
came a doubly difficult task to get him near a black-
board. Neither persuasion nor example accomplishes
anything with Edwin under such circumstances, so
he was pushed towards the board, while he vigor-
ously kicked and employed his peculiar idioms;
but the board once touched with the chalk, he be-
came quiet and soon interested himself with random
markings.
EDWIN was as dependent on external agencies for
his life and motion, as a stone for its increase in
dimension. After he had been with us for months,
he had not performed the most simple voluntary
effort; not even to cross the room or move his seat;
even a commanding call would not suffice to rouse
him, and yet a small child by a push or pull could

EDWIN.
111
make him go or come. When all our children have
been romping around, Edwin has stood an entire
afternoon in one position, with his arm hiding his
eyes; and no inducement was sufficient to stimulate
him to independent action.
The first example of this latter was to play with
a straw. We considered it a note-worthy event,
when, one afternoon, he leaned forward from the
grassy seat where he was sitting, and grasped in his
feeble fingers, a long straw; this he played with, as
a babe would with a rattle, but as soon as observed
he immediately discontinued it. But this,
But this, unimpor-
tant in itself, was an interesting point in his devel-
opment; it showed the first and feeblest of a series
of voluntary acts, which we felt sure would be
geometrical in their progression; and the anticipated
result of that one feeble act was soon apparent.
Edwin had eaten a comfortable dinner, and whilst
sitting, with his accustomed malaise, in his habitual
chair, he was aroused from his indolence by a vigor-
ous shake, and “come boy! what are you sitting
here for? get your cap, and take a walk; you are too
lazy." His hat was thrust over his brows, and he
was urged out of the door. The suddenness of this
treatment was new to him; he stood but a moment,
as though considering what best to do, and then

112
OUR SOUTHERN BOY.
tramped off down the hill, and after walking a hun-
dred yards, came to a low rail fence; here he stopped,
and resting his chin on the top of a post, attentively
watched the motions of a cow in the adjoining field.
Thus he stood for a long time. A new world had
opened before him, and impelled with something
akin to curiosity or discovery, he now attempted to
climb the bars; failing in this, he viewed the rails
as thoughtfully as a student would ponder over a
problem in Euclid. A happy thought animated
him, and with head foremost, he squeezed himself
through, between two bars, and continued his walk.
Occasionally he stopped, and cast his eye from the
base, to the top of an oak tree, and then he gazed
with astonishment on the leaves fluttering in the
wind, or looked down upon the ruffled waters of
the pond, as though conscious for the first time that
such things existed. The loud halloes of some
distant boys arrested his attention-he turned his
head to catch the sounds, as they died away among
the hills.
Thus he continued his walk, until brought to a
stand by a high fence. Here, he would doubtless
have staid, for leaning against a tree, watching the
changing clouds and falling leaves, and catching the
echoing sounds, he seemed in a state of perfect

EDWIN.
113
On one
tranquillity. The teacher, who watched these move-
ments, directed some strange boys, who happened
that way, to escort him home; so that this first
attempt at individual enterprise, was made indepen-
dent of any aid from home,
From this time, improvement at intervals was
noticed in Edwin's case. He became more imitative;
any given word he would repeat. A brisk tune
called from him the expression, “that's good.” He
commenced beating time for singing.
occasion, he wheeled a barrow voluntarily, and was
delighted to place one of our little ones in it. A
pup dog thrown into his bed, after his pretended
terror was expended, won from him the words,
“pretty little dog."
Pictures were employed to arrest his attention, to
instruct him words, and to teach him forms; he soon
became familiar with a large number; with many,
he seemed acquainted before these exercises were
commenced. The fox, he persisted in calling “sten-
ky.” By inquiry, we find it is a common name for
this animal, among the negroes at the South.
Although he seldom asks questions, he makes use
of very many words by exclamation. A number of
engravings were placed in his hands, he spent the
entire morning looking over them, and a few of his
10*

114
OUR SOUTHERN BOY.
לל
לל
remarks are appended. A horse—“Two ears—horse
—four legs.” A goose—“See goose.” A tiger-
“See tiger-scar' me-eat me.” A play carriage-
“See pretty little wagon-little boy-nice little boy."
Rural scene—“See that bridge.” Attempts to count
a group of men—“One, two, three, five, six, eight,
nine, twelve.” Hunting view—“Look he' ah-two
deer—see the swallows-pretty little deer.” Mon-
key—“Halloa! see monkey! what mon-mon-mon-
monkey doin' thar?” Prairie and animals—“Ugh!
Heigho! Buffalo! Heigh O! Another buffalo."
Squirrel—“My stars—see that squirrel.” Snakes-
“ Hi yi!-look out-bite-two snakes—hi yi!-hi
yi!” Chicken yard—“Halloa ! look at rooster," and
imitates the crow of one, &c., &c.
Edwin's natural indolence is now so far overcome,
that he has become quite fond of ladder and dumb-
bell exercise. Every round of the former has been
a struggle to him, but he is now the first to run,
when the call is given, “ Ladder, boys, form line.”
He dances to the violin after genuine plantation
fashion; sometimes joins a few words in chorus
when the school is singing, and takes his own part
when imposed upon by his companions.
He can count twelve, though perhaps by rote
only; is familiar with a number of monosyllabic
לל

EDWIN.
115
words, and also a few colors. He is very fond of the
form boards, putting the variously shaped blocks
into their appropriate places. His case is interesting,
as exhibiting marked physical and mental improve-
ment, from a condition apparently hopeless.

CHAPTER X.
Our Traveler.
ORVILLE
Was born October 15, 1838. He is consequently
nineteen years of age. To appearance only sixteen.
.
He is a thick set, rubicond boy, with a stoop and
long stride in his walk, and a peculiar ring in his
heel as it strikes the floor, which is sufficiently de-
monstrative that Orville's moter force is set to music.
Quite early in life, he exhibited symptoms of ner-
vous derangement, the least noise startling him in his
sleep and throwing him into a paroxysm of weeping.
His troubles were only soothed by music or singing,
of which, even then, he was very fond. It was not
until his fourth year that he commenced to walk,
and he failed to talk plainly, before his ninth year.
While young, he was the victim of much and serious
disease, which no doubt affected, even more, his

ORVILLE.
117
already enfeebled mind. He never united in the
plays of children of his own years: their taunts and
contradictions angered him, and humming little
melodies, with sluggish pace, he sought his miniature
pleasures alone, among the hills and meadows, or in
the poultry yard. His fondness for animals was as
intense, as his passion for music: to every dog of the
village, Orville was an acknowledged friend.
When quite young his parents removed to St.
Kitts, one of the West India islands, in the capacity
of Moravian Missionaries. While there, one of those
devastating earthquakes so common in that region,
took place: the rumbling noise; the heaving and
rocking of the low walls, and the furniture thrown
in confusion, were so alarming to Orville's sensitive
mind, that he screamed with terror, and the parents
hastily sought a more quiet and less dangerous spot.
The house and church adjoining were soon a heap
of ruins. Perhaps the weeping and terror of that
imbecile boy, hastened the parents' tardy footsteps,
and saved all from destruction.
An instance of Orville's great fondness for pets is
given; he begged his mother to go with him and see
a pretty worm he had found to play with; she went,
and to her great consternation discovered it to be a
large and dangerous snake, coiled and nestled in the
top of a prickly pear.

118
OUR TRAVELER.
The debilitating climate operated so unpleasantly
on Orville's constitution, that they were obliged to
return to the States. Whooping cough, succeeded
by measles and scarlet fever in their worst forms
brought him so low, that he was not expected to sur-
vive. Through all, his delicate constitution carried
him, and the shafts of disease were broken at each
successive attack. The poor, dependent child had
redeemed the debt of his being, when the terror of
the quaking ground had made him the deliverer of
his people.
The yearnings of an intelligent, educated mother,
were, that her son should become acquainted with
at least the rudiments of his tongue. But no promise
could woo his mind from its listlessness: the worst
punishment that could be inflicted, was to call him
away from his idle strolls, to his slate and book, and
after five years of protracted attention, the only re-
sult was an imperfect acquaintance with the alphabet.
Reading was next attempted. Orville had an eye to
gaze upon the flowers, the springing grass-blades,
the grazing herds on the hills, the birds that sang
in the hedge, the delicate bee and beautiful butter-
fly; but in vain could its wanderings be fixed upon
the page, and equally vain the mother's attempts to
teach him to trace lines upon the slate.
He was exceedingly fond of church, and would

ORVILLE.
119
join in the singing, using words quite foreign how-
ever to the solemnities of the place: but anything
ludicrous occurring, he would not hesitate in giving
an uproarious appreciation of it.
It is rare to meet a case in which so much patient
care is exhibited to improve an imbecile mind, and
we cannot too highly honor that maternal interest
and continual hopefulness, that has elevated Orville
to the position he now occupies. She had not imbe-
cility only to combat, for Orville is indolent beyond
imagination. A cackling hen, or a playful puppy,
,
or a cow in the vegetable garden, are the only incite-
ments that can break his lumbering stride into a full
run.
As it is four years since he entered our Institution,
little decisive is known of his early acquirements; he
probably had not proceeded beyond his letters, and
his counting ability was not beyond ten. He was
uncleanly in his habits, and subject to violent out-
bursts of passion; sometimes he assumed to be afflict-
ed with spasms, and would fall over from his seat
mimicking an epileptic convulsion; this he did when
thwarted in any of his purposes or desires.
Of the last he has been entirely cured, and it is
very rarely that he gives way to passion : he is strict-
ly obedient, and nice in an extreme degree. In the


121
CHAPTER XI.
Our Typr.
FAMES
Was admitted in February, 1857. We have never
looked upon a more repulsive object than poor
James. On his first visit, every one instinctively
shrunk from his contact; his closely shorn hair de-
creased the really small diameters of his head, and
made more frightfully disproportionate, the ponder-
ous jaws and high cheek bones.
There was great
obliquity of the eyes, which rolled upward and ex-
posed a large amount of the white; his lips seemed
deficient in width, and were drawn tensely against
his scurvied, bleeding gums, and decayed, irregular
teeth, which were constantly revealed; his skin was
of a dirty color, and blotched with a disagreeable
eruption; his body was very much bent; his arms
11

122
OUR TYPE.
hanging in front of him, or raised to allow his long,
cold, and bony fingers to pass over the face or hands
of the person with whom he might be sitting. He
could not stand erect, his limbs were so contracted;
and his straddling gait, and crouched form, as he
ambled across the floor, reduced him, in appearance
to the grade of something less than human. When
undisturbed-his body continually swaying to and
fro, his head thrown far back, his eyes rolling
toward the ceiling, and his mouth widely open-he
certainly illustrated, in his person, the description of
the Swiss cretin, while his intellect was, perhaps,
more clouded than the average of that class of un-
fortunate creatures.
His only expressed want, for many days, was, for
marbles. The eager inquiry was always put, when
any person was preparing to go out, “Where you
going?" then followed the request, “Me want mar-
bles!” When the marbles were purchased for him,
he kept them in his pocket, their jingle affording
him indescribable amusement.
Thus was James; pale, emaciated, and almost
helpless; expressionless and inoffensive; apparently
the lowest, and most unpromising type of idiotcy.
We make use of the last sentence with full con-
sciousness of its import: we mean, that no promise

JAMES.
123
could be given, and but little hope entertained of
his improvement.
We allowed him to sit in our school room, and
watched the effect of music, and of the children's exer-
cises, upon him; his head was thrown further back,
his long bony neck seemed lengthened, his naturally
repulsive physiognomy heightened in repulsiveness.
Was this, could this be, an expression of pleasure ?
It indeed was, and as such we treasured it. Beads
were placed in his hands; of these he soon became
fond; and while in the Gymnasium his stiffened and
tottering limbs had been taught to climb a ladder,
in the school room, those vacant, restless eyes had
been fixed on a plate of beads, and the intellect
elicited (not created) that could guide in the rapid
selection and arrangement of colors. After several
months' labor, the pleasing report came, that James
could arrange beads, by threes, with intermediate
buttons; and, as a test of his powers of enumeration,
the question was given - "How many legs has a
cow?” His answer was, 66 Two.” “Oh! James -
put on your cap-go out to that field and count how
many legs that cow has.”
James moved off; this
was the first time those bent limbs had followed out
an object requiring continued thought; he made a
direct line for the cow in the distant meadow: a few

121
OUR TYPE.
“How many
yards brought him to a pointed, pale fence; after
sundry scratches of his skin, and rents in his clothes,
he scaled the sharp angles of the fence, and again
moved on; squeezing between the rails of a second
fence, he at length reached the place where the cow
was standing; and now commenced a most amusing
investigation: he walked around on all sides, some-
times would go on hands and knees, and was thus
engaged the greater part of a summer's morning.
At length he was brought to dinner, and the con-
versation of the morning resumed.
legs has a cow ?” “Four legs.” “How many horns
has a cow?” “Two horns." "How many eyes has
a cow?” “Two eyes.” Thus, James bad accom-
plished a lesson, as deep and new to him as the most
complicated invention, or most abstruse theory, that
ever exercised genius.
Having made these important essays, he now
began to notice everything that occurred about him.
Visitors entering are critically inspected, and his
observing and sensitive mind is often exhibited,
when his face flushes with deep crimson, at such
thoughtless remarks as, “Oh! what a creature-
how repulsive.”
An idiot has been defined, as one who cannot
enumerate 20, measure a yard of cloth, &c. James,

JAMES.
125
with a little patient attention, soon counted twenty,
and now fifty or more. His tongue is loosened, and
he often engages in animated conversation with his
teachers, and recalls, with facility, many of the asso-
ciations of his home, from which he has now been
separated a long time.
His mother has been deceased many years, and
her place supplied by a faithful stepmother. As an
instance of wonderful filial affection, we will add the
following anecdote of James.
One Sabbath day, the children had been much en-
tertained with an account of Heaven-it was called
our heavenly home- the home to which we would
all go, some day, and be with our parents and
friends. An hour had elapsed, and other exercises
had been engaged in, when in pleasantry the ques-
tion was put, “All the children who would like to
go home and see their friends, before dinner, stand
up!” To go without dinner was a sober loss, to
contemplate, and but few arose; but among the
latter was poor James. They were asked if they
would not rather wait until vacation, most consented,
but James still stood. “Why James, you don't want
to go to F- - and leave us, do you?" His cheek
blushed, and eye kindled with earnestness. “No,
no! me want mother in heaven!” That boy had
11*

126
OUR TYPE.
been impressed, in his soul, by the simple remarks
of an hour previous; they had remained with him,
and his act was responsive to the affection that re-
vived in his breast, with the remembrance of a long
lost mother.
Repulsive as James is, in appearance, the goodness
and gentleness of his manners, and the real intelli-
gence he now exhibits, are winning him many
friends; he is watched with interest, by periodical
visitors to our Institution, who are delighted with
his progress in block building, reading, &c. He is
now able to read a great many words, and writes
several letters and figures on his slate.

CHAPTER XII.
A mws e me nts.
ORIGINAL PLAYS,
OR THOSE WHICH REQUIRE THE EXERCISE OF IDEALITY.
If we watch a young child, who is abandoned to
his own conceptions for his amusement, we will
notice that he personifies every article about him,
while his fancy may create, out of the unseen, imagi-
nary existences that entertain him, as much as living
realities. One chair is his horse, another his carriage,
and he whips up, canters, gallops and shies, with as
much gusto, as though his inanimate chairs were
veritable carriage and pony.
Idiotcy rarely manifests this much ingenuity;
where it does, its conceptions are oftener real
illusions, indicating the presence of insanity. The
power to originate ideas does not belong to an

128
AMUSEMENTS.
uneducated idiot. He sits in a corner, crouching
and listless; he lies in the sun, and whines if you
disturb him, or he stands hunch-backed and slaver-
ing, sucking his fingers. If possessed with activity,
it is oftener in excess, exhibiting itself in wild, un-
meaning tossings and leapings.
Twelve months ago, our children during the hours
for voluntary play, were most commonly sitting with
gaping mouths and dangling arms, about our piazza.
Some do so still, but the majority of little ones
have found a way to amuse themselves, and under
the heading of these paragraphs we could cite many
examples. It is true, they will excite little surprise
in the parent of ordinary children, but the reader
must remember that we are surrounded by poor
imbeciles, and that we notice and are encouraged,
by every phase, that presents a likeness to the
natural child.
Neddie, Alice, Charley J., and Abram, are often
found, each with a square block, on which have
been apportioned by Ned, a quantity of bits of pa-
per; the block is a plate, and paper is the pudding,
an additional block is a cup of tea. They are in-
tently engaged in their mimic meal, and their table
talk is chiefly on the quality of the pudding, and
the sweetness of the tea.

ORIGINAL PLAYS.
129
Charley J. is found, on one occasion, imitating
the movement of a pump with one hand, while a
block, for a bucket, is held under an imagined noz-
zle. Abram stands by as horse, and when the bucket
is raised to his mouth, gulps down the water with
considerable of the horse movement.
The most complete play is “The Doctor,” entirely
originated among themselves, and frequently re-
peated.
“Ned” is thrown down in a violent epileptic con-
vulsion, (assumed,) “Frances,” called “good old
soul,” the most matronly, good natured body in
the house, acts as nurse. She bathes the forehead,
beats the hand, and vociferously calls for the “Doc-
tor.” The “Doctor,” personified by “ Hamil,” the
personification of tardiness, is very brisk on the
present occasion. He rushes through the group
around the contorted patient, and proceeds at once,
to administer a dose of medicine; the patient is
sufficiently conscious to exhibit the most refined
disgust for the potion. This case is scarcely relieved
before “Alice," assumed daughter' of “Mary,”
demands immediate attention, on account of a “ bad
fever.” The “Doctor' is hurried to the second
patient, her tongue is examined and her pulse felt,
the patient in the meantime breathing with difficulty,
לל

130
AMUSEMENTS.
and moaning piteously. The disease seems conta-
gious; half a dozen victims are prostrated; and the
rapid professional movements of the “Doctor,” the
earnest inquiries and soothing words of the nurse
and mothers, and the moans and tossings of the
sufferers, afford a most amusing drama.
Such scenes as these are very encouraging to us;
they denote an approximation towards that natural
imagery of childhood, which ultimately matures it-
self in the originality of thought, and the independ-
ence of action, which characterize age.
BLOCK BUILDING.
A large number of blocks four by eight inches, is
the material for a vast fund of pleasure; set up in
long curved rows and the first of the series struck,
all are successively thrown down. Piled to the ut-
most reach of a child, and the bottom block removed,
the stunning noise is rapture for the idiot boy and
girl: the more constructive, accomplish greater things
—a companion is stood on the floor and the bricks
built as a deep well around him, until his head is

KRISS KRINGLE.
131
hidden from view; when this is done, the whole
group shout with glee at the feat. On one occasion
“Lizzie,” laid one of the younger children on
the floor, arranged his hands, &c., as a person de-
ceased, and surrounded him with a COFFIN of bricks,
the shape and proportions of which were perfect.
Bridges, castles, houses and paved walks, are fre-
quently attempted with success. One of our inmates
of lowest grade, will amuse himself for hours with
these wooden bricks.
KRISS KRINGLE
Is a living reality in the minds of most of our chil-
dren. His home is located in the Snowy mountains;
the cold and blows of which, have made him weak
in the knees and bent in the back; his face is one of
jovial goodness, especially winning to the children,
when he presents, in his rough right hand, a Christ-
mas gift, and with a hearty laugh pronounces them
“good children.” His annual visitation is eagerly
anticipated, and when the tramp of his heavy snow
boots is heard, descending from the roof, and he

132
AMUSEMENTS.
enters with a huge pack at his back, the shouts of
merriment are beyond description. Kriss Kringle,
in his coarse blanket, heavy snow boots, and pendant
icicles, is at once placed in a comfortable chair, and
one by one the children approach to bid good morn-
ing, and receive each a present. He has so attached
himself to one of our boys, that he is very earnest to
go and live with him, in his frigid and distant home.
PEAGIC LANTERN.
The loan of an excellent instrument, and a fine
collection of dissolving views, have enabled us to
give entertainment to the children, most admirably
adapted to their capacity. The enthusiasm exhibited
rivals that of any class of juveniles, and the spon-
taneous remarks that are made, are often astonishing.
Scriptural, historical, and ludicrous scenes are all
appreciated in a proper sense; and we find this a
most excellent avenue to communicate instruction,
that is of the lasting kind.

DUMB
BELLS TO MUSIC.
133
MUSIC AND DANCING.
We have already alluded to the power of music
on the idiotic mind and heart. Tune and time, are
in many cases easily acquired, and is made a promi-
nent element in their advancement. On Wednesday
and Saturday evenings an hour is devoted to dancing
and music, in which many of the children participate.
The movements of a cotillion are creditably passed
through by some of the more advanced.
DU M B -BELIS TO MUSIC.
This is a beautiful and healthful exercise, and
should be introduced into our private seminaries,
especially into those for young ladies. A brisk tune
is played, and a class of boys or girls keep time to
it, by beating the bells. The movements are varied
and graceful, involving rapidity and regularity of
gymnastic action. Dumb-bells are struck to music
in France and Germany; the pupils imitating the
movements of their instructor. But Mr. S. J.
12

134
AMUSEMENTS.
Walker, our gymnast, has devised an “alphabet,"
each sign of which represents a certain stroke or move-
ment of the dumb-bell. Our children read this “dumb-
bell alphabet," as a lady her music, while by the
ear, they keep time to the musical strain. The ad-
vantages to our children, from this system are these :
1. Exercise of important muscles, especially those of
the chest and spine. 2. Exercise of the eye and
concentrativeness, to follow the written signs. 3.
Exercise of the co-ordinating powers, to strike at
certain angles and in certain time. 4. It induces
an enthusiasm among children naturally lethargic,
which stimulates to physical exercise when other
means fail.
We hope that those interested in education, and
particularly those who would unite physical with
mental training, will investigate our “Dumb-bells
to Music,
DOMESTIC ANIM A LS.
THESE are a source of great entertainment and
profit to our children, We regret that we have not

DOMESTIC ANIMALS.
135
a larger stock to furnish them. One of our lowest
grade, has so far improved, as to become master of a
large St. Bernard dog : ascendency over a brute, has
given him equality among his kind : he no longer
submits to mal-treatment by his associates, but
vigorously takes his own part.
“ CLIP” is a valuable auxiliary; with the charac-
teristic intelligence of the Alpine dog, he enters
into the plays of the children; he is always conspicu-
ous in a race around the grounds, laying hold of a
flying garment, or mischievously throwing pel-mel,
a lazy standing group. Frequently he will be found
struggling with a low idiot for the possession of a
rope or stick. Strong and rough, yet kind and
harmless, “ Clip" is a noble fellow.
JACKO," poor monkey! departed this life, after
fulfilling a monkey's career, on the night of Christ-
He occupied a large share of thought among
the children, and his loss was quite feelingly exhibit-
ed by several of them. A knoll was selected as his
burial place, “where he can be seen from the
piazza.”* Grubb and Johnnie dropped many tears,
as they interred his remains. “Jacko" was consid-
ered so good, that one of our little girls surprised us
with the inquiry, “Has he gone to heaven?”
mas.
* Grubb's remark.

136
A MUSEMENTS.
A “cemetery” has been laid out by the boys, in
which all the post mortem birds, chickens, pigs,
dogs, &c., are interred, and sticks with paper labels,
indicate their individual resting places. S
The care of poultry, pigeons, &c., can be safely
entrusted to them. A brood of chickens, a tame
pigeon, or a litter of pups, is often introduced to the
school-room; the pleasure excited is delightful to
witness; not unfrequently a mute, breaks its sealed
silence, to utter the name of the creature placed in
his arms, or to give expression to the joy that leaps
in his bosom for utterance.
A WORD TO OUR BENEVOLENT FRIENDS.
The impression is as prevalent, that an idiot is
incapable of appreciating children's sports, as that
he is without the pale of education and improve-
ment; and hence he has been abandoned, and his
condition, for want of employment, made still worse.
We feel that the intelligent reader of this, our
home history, will receive different impressions.
ur more advanced inmates are fond of hoops,

A
WORD TO THE BENEVOLENT.
137
wheel-barrows and wagons, and the lowest idiot in
our midst, is delighted with a child's rattle, a penny
whistle, or a whip.
Parents who are able, often forget whilst bestow-
ing liberally their holiday toys on their children at
home," that these stricken ones enjoy and merit a
tithe of the same; and in the many cases of parents,
where the ability does not exist to supply these little
blessings of childhood, a liberal community might
practise on the suggestion of a philanthropic woman
of Philadelphia, viz:
“Many old toys are displaced annuaily by the new
gifts of a New Year; those slightly damaged toys,
might be repaired at trifling expense, and sent to
the children in public institutions, where they would
shed a holiday gladness, richly compensating the
donor's trouble."
12*

CHAPTER XIII.
Bo w we Libe.
The following graphic letter, written by a friend,
for the Christian Advocate and Journal," exhibits
a true picture of the daily routine of our school
operations.
A VISIT TO THE PENNSYLVANIA TRAINING SCHOOL
FOR FEEBLE-MINDED CHILDREN.--This humane in-
stitution, under the superintendence of Dr. Joseph
Parrish, being located at Germantown, a half-hour's
ride by rail, from Philadelphia, I concluded to
avail myself of a fine morning of last week to
visit it; and so well pleased was I, that perhaps
a hasty review of what I saw and heard, will be
acceptable to the editor and readers of the Advocate
and Journal. The building, not originally designed
for the uses to which it is now appropriated, is situa-
ted in an elevated, healthy, and retired spot; it is a
large four-story house, inclosed on two sides with a

HOW WE LIVE.
139
glass protected piazza, and flanked by a beautiful
grove of oak, cedar, and chestnut, a sight of which
recalled, even on this cold morning, the time of leaf,
shade, and temperate breeze,
The hour for school not having arrived, I was con-
ducted to the office, where the superintendent kindly
favored me with a history of the work he was en-
gaged in, and also a programme of the children's
daily exercises. They rise at half past five o'clock,
and after dressing, in which they are expected to as-
sist themselves as much as possible, they proceed to
the school-room at half past six o'clock, where they
indulge in light physical exercise; as, moving chairs,
blocks, boards, etc., from place to place; this is to
cultivate their attention to command, to teach them
the names of familiar objects, etc. From eight un-
til nine o'clock, the smaller classes are put at dumb-
bell exercise, while the larger boys and girls are en-
gaged with moderate out-door work, bed-making,
etc. I was taken to the piazza, from whence the
loud clink of dumb-bells was heard through the whole
house, and there some twenty children or more,
were vigorously plying their bells; the little things
evidently enjoyed it, and with remarkable alacrity
responded to the command and motions of their lead-
er; from swinging the bells horizontally, before and

140
HOW WE LIVE.
behind, in an instant they were elevated above their
heads, where being struck a few times, another posi-
tion was quickly assumed, in obedience to command.
At nine o'clock they formed in line, and marched
from the piazza to the medicine room, where they
each underwent inspection. Many of them being of
low physical powers, are under a protracted course
of tonics.
At nine o'clock the bell rang for school gathering,
and I was ushered into the room, where I found as
orderly and quiet a class of children as I ever met
with. They were well-combed, washed, and dress-
ed, and in many cases their faces brightened with
pleasure, at seeing the entrance of a stranger. Their
chairs and desks were neat, of varnished cherry; and
the walls were a perfect gallery of pictures. They
all sat in silence for a few moments with their arms
folded, when at a given signal, their hands clasped,
and in concert, they repeated the Lord's Prayer and
the 23d Psalm. I noticed that several of the large
children engaged in this exercise with closed eyes,
and apparently impressed with its solemnity. One
of the little girls, “ Alice,” a bright, mischievous,
black-eyed child, as soon as the order for prayer was
given, raised her finger above her head, and exclaim-
ed, “To God, in heaven!"

HOW WE LIVE.
1-11
The children were now called up in two files, be-
fore the melodeon, and to my gratified surprise,
united in chanting the 121st Psalm, as I have seldom
heard in the best infant schools. They show, I am
told, a great appreciation of music; its soothing
powers often control the worst cases when subject to
paroxysms of anger; through its medium a large
amount of instruction is conveyed, and I am sure any
one, to look at them while singing, would say, “they
sing with the spirit.” Many selections were made,
and when the allotted time was up, they faced about,
and to a brisk tune, marched to their seats.
Usually at this time, the school distributes itself
into three classes, the larger and more advanced chil-
dren receiving instruction in another building on the
premises; the medium class retaining their seats in
the general school-room, while a third party, in fair
weather, are taken to a gymnasium erected in the
grove; in winter to a smaller one in the fourth story.
As I had expressed a desire to witness any general
exercises they might have, they were all directed to
keep their seats.
A geography class was first called up, and it would
have put to shame many older and wiser heads, to
have listened to the readiness with which they an-
swered a multitude of questions, from an outline map

112
HOW WE LIVE.
66
of the United States. They are exceedingly fond of
this study, and always consider it a recreation. It is
taught by chorus, a mode by which alone they could
arrive at such proficiency. Even the very little chil-
dren seemed responsive to the larger ones, especially
Alice,” who was an echo for every answer made.
This child was admitted about a year ago, and from
being a repulsive-looking semi-mute, is now as in-
teresting a “chatter-box” as one would find any-
where. Geography finished, what is called “the quiet
exercise” was introduced; by this is meant a pho-
netic exercise for the improvement of vocalization,
which has been introduced among them with mark-
ed advantage. Even the best cases possess lingual
defects, which a protracted course of discipline only
can remove; they were always told to be very quiet
at this time, and hence the name given to it. It was
amusing to notice the eager attempts made to imitate
the instructor; one poor child, whose only articulate
sound was a, (long), seemed especially gratified in
responding this sound to every given sign. The ex-
ercise referred to, is Williams' System of Phonetics,
in which a set of perpendicular, oblique, and horizon-
tal, right and curved lines, possess each a certain vo-
cal sound; each sign and sound, by these children is
associated with the name of one of their number;

HOW WE LIVE.
143
the sign of d in date is associated with “doctor," of
9
in
gun,
with “Grubb;" ch with “Charley,” etc.
Many of the children are able to name a long list of
words, commencing with the sound of a given sign,
and in this manner learn rapidly to analyze the pro-
nunciation and scope of language.
This concluded, a miscellaneous exercise in form
and numeration was engaged in. “James," a most
pitiable object, whose ponderous jaws, set with
irregular teeth, were always wide open, his eyes fixed
on vacancy or staring at the ceiling, and his gaunt
body incessantly swaying from side to side; this
apparently lowest and most unpromising case in the
room, astonished me by naming several geometric
figures, when made upon the board, in reading all
the letters of the alphabet, and some half a dozen
words, and in counting thirty understandingly.
When a series of cubes were placed before him, he
was told to make an arm-chair, a column, a wall,
etc., etc., with them, all of which, with much self-
satisfaction, he accomplished. “James" is now
regarded a very promising case; apparently the most
deplorable and obtuse when he was entered, ten
months ago, he is now found to possess a remarkably
sensitive and reflecting mind, for this class of children.
The poor boy, without advantages of any kind, has

144
HOW WE LIVE.
for long years remained under a cloud, which is
dispelling before the kindly influences into which he
is now thrown. The experience of this school, in the
ability of children to become interested in figures,
differs from that of other establishments of the kind.
Many of the girls have committed addition and mul-
tiplication tables to memory, and are beginning to
reduce them to practice. Two of the boys are quite
correct with their pencils, though not very rapid.
“Grubb," in February last, knew not a figure; he
now adds and multiplies almost ad infinitum. “Alfred,"
an interesting semi-
mute, by processes of his own,
exhibits great natural talent for figures, adding, mul-
tiplying, and dividing. Some exhibit much taste in
drawing. One girl, “Lizzie,” is quite original in her
way. Her slate of the previous day was shown to me.
It was covered with a frost-work of pencil marks,
representing such figures as are seen in fine em-
broidery. She is an excellent seamstress: sheets,
pillow-cases, etc., are exhibited as the plain sewing
of a class of four girls, while specimens of perforated
card-work do much credit to the boys. After being
entertained with “The Farmer's Song,” in which the
children represent the movements of the farmer in
sowing, reaping, threshing, etc., the bell for dinner
rang. A long table neatly furnished, with a row of

HOW WE LIVE.
145
children on each side, sitting in perfect silence while
the food was being dished before them, was a sight
unsurpassed in the best regulated family of juveniles.
The state of discipline is the more remarkable when
it is considered that in nearly every instance, when
first entered, they had voracious appetites, entirely
unrestrained. One exceptional case to the order of the
table was presented while I was there. It was a boy
who had been but a short time under care, and was
a type of the ungovernable habits of some of the
children when first introduced. At a signal from a
bell, all took their forks properly in their fingers, and
commenced eating as deliberately, in most instances,
as ordinary children.
The dining hour through, light exercise on the
piazza and block building were engaged in. Some
show much aptitude in the arrangement of wooden
bricks. One little fellow was lying at full length on
a settee, while a bright-faced girl was inclosing him
in a coffin made of blocks! Afternoons are generally
spent in block building and letter-board exercise by
the smaller children, in plain sewing and knitting by
the larger girls, and in oral geography and element-
ary grammar by the boys.
The Sabbath day is observed by appropriate exer-
cises. Psalm recitation and singing, and what the
13

146
HOW WE LIVE.
children call a “sermon," are engaged in, in the
morning. What is in effect an experience meeting is
held after the sermon; the more advanced pupils,
one after another, rise and narrate, first, what they
have done that is good, and secondly, what they have
done that is bad, for the week past. They are very
sensitive to gentle reproof, and their confessions are
often accompanied with tears. The advantage of
this attention to a form of worship and moral teach-
ing has been very apparent in some instances. One
boy, with strong thieving propensities, seems almost
cured. He was a moral idiot; but after being taught
the character of and his obligations to his heavenly
Father; his clothes, his food, his friends as being
supplied by him, and the return he should make for
all these blessings in being good, he has become
very correct in his life, and is one of the most devo-
tional in the school. After a closing hymn, during
which all stand, a collection is taken up, and the
children, with hats and bonnets on, proceed to the
walks, "going home from church.” In this way, by
the most assiduous care, and philanthropic self-
sacrifice, a band of men and women are elevating a
helpless and hitherto neglected class of community.
The work, at a distance, seems repulsive; but when
a sense of Christian charity and duty actuates a mind,

HOW WE LIVE.
147
any work for the amelioration of human suffering
becomes a pleasure: and so with those connected
with this institution. Their testimony is almost
enthusiastic; their hopes are not chimerical. That
the Divine blessing may rest upon those united in
this work is the prayer of the writer.
HUMANITAS.
TO THE READER.—The undersigned has compiled
this little narrative with an earnest desire, that its
perusal may create a deeper and more active interest
in the poor imbecile, who needs protection and
demands sympathy: and thus offered to a benevo-
lent Christian public, he will patiently and prayer-
fully await the accomplishment of its mission.
I. N. KERLIN, M. D.
GERMANTOWN,

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