y the late
W. G. Chirgwin, on which I might try my voice.

All this passed through my mind while Captain Towse was still standing
by my cot.

I was suddenly startled from my gruesome speculations by the captain
asking me if I had made up my mind to go to St. Dunstan's. I had to
confess that I did not know the place, where it was, or what it was for.
Then he told me that he wished to take down some particulars regarding
me. He wanted to know my full name, regimental number, when I was hit,
where I received my wound, who was my next of kin, and many other
particulars, all of which I, at that time, thought a most unnecessary
and foolish proceeding.

While the Captain was questioning me, I heard a rapid, clicking sound
following each of my answers. The noise fascinated me, and after a brief
time I made bold to ask him what it was. The answer fairly staggered me.

"It's a Braille machine," he replied. "I am writing down your answers."

I knew he was blind--blinder than any bat; and, in my ignorance, I asked
him, in an irritated voice, if he thought that it was fair to try "to
kid" a man who had just been told that he would never again have the use
of his eyes. He uttered no word, but I had a feeling that a smile was
playing on his lips; and the next moment the machine he had been
operating was placed in my hands. He then began patiently to explain its
use, and what a moment before had seemed an utter impossibility I
realized to be a fact. Although the blind could not see, they at least
had it in their power to put down their thoughts without the aid of a
second party; and, not only that, the world of knowledge was no longer a
sealed book--they could read as well as write. The eye had been
accustomed to carry the printed word to the brain; now the finger tips
could take the place of eyes. I now recalled that I had seen a blind man
sitting at a street corner, running his fingers over the pages of a big
book; but I had paid no heed to it, thinking it merely a fake
performance to gain sympathy from the public. I told this to Captain
Towse, and he replied kindly that I should soon learn much greater
things about the blind. At St. Dunstan's, he said, there were about
three hundred men, all more or less sightless, making baskets, mats,
hammocks, nets, bags, and dozens of other useful articles, mending
boots, doing carpentry, learning the poultry business, fitting
themselves for massage work, and, what seemed to me most incredi