ram. The blind adult in civil life must be employed or cared for by
the civilian population, and this brings me to the discussion of the
attitude of the public toward the blind since three-fourths of the blind
of America could be gainfully employed right now, if the public would
only believe in them, would only give them an opportunity to prove their
ability. With his remaining faculties keenly alert, with a courage and
fortitude born of many trials, the blind adult is prepared to face life
squarely, undaunted and unafraid, asking only to take his place on the
firing line, to march shoulder to shoulder with his seeing brother, and
to do a man's work in the world.

THE ATTITUDE OF THE PUBLIC TOWARD THE BLIND.

In discussing this subject I realize I have a most difficult and
delicate task before me--a task which only a blind person can adequately
perform. I approach it with no misgiving, with no unkind feeling, for,
as I have previously stated, I believe the public needs, not so much to
be instructed, as to be reminded, and I believe it will be glad to have
some of its mistaken ideas corrected, and thus bring about a better
understanding between the two classes.

In the first place, I wish to mention some popular fallacies concerning
the blind. Chief among these is the idea that all blind people are so
much happier than sighted people. This belief seems very general, and
comes, I suppose, as a result of the feeling of the average human being
that, if deprived of eyesight, he could never be induced to laugh again.
The blind adult soon realizes that "humor is a shock absorber," and that
"mirth is the soul's best medicine." When my pupils fail to recognize
the efficacy of humor, I establish a rule that they must laugh at least
once during each lesson, and very soon they agree with Charles Lamb that
"a laugh is worth a hundred groans in any market." One of my foreign
pupils said to me when I spoke of his cheerful attitude, "Madam, I laugh
that I may not weep." And this is the key to much of the cheerfulness of
the blind, whose philosophy is not often understood by their sighted
friends. There is nothing really remarkable about making the best of a
trying situation, unless it is the small percentage of persons who do
so. People feel so sorry for the blind that they are often unable to
address them at all, or, when they do speak, convey a whole world of
well-meant but misdirected sympathy in a few ill-chosen words. Thi