partes tres"
is nothing to it. Like him, he must go hunting, as if for a needle
in a haystack, for the word to put first. It is the last idea in his
sign-sentence. Then he slowly learns to pick out the words and arrange
them in English order--an order, as I said before, not founded on
philosophical principles, but in most instances wholly arbitrary.
This is by no means an easy task. Years of training do not ensure
him against ludicrous lapses. A fair percentage of the whole number
educated learn to construct sentences with tolerable accuracy; a
smaller percentage of these acquire fluency, precision and, in some
rare instances, grace of expression; but a large proportion never
become good English scholars.
The method of beginning their instruction is by means of simple
familiar objects, or, where these cannot be obtained, illustrations
of them. A picture of a horse is placed, at one end of the teacher's
blackboard. Instantly two fingers of each hand go up to the top of
each little head. If it were a picture of an animal with longer ears,
each would make an ass of himself. So far so good, only they do not
know the name of this animal, familiar as they are with him. The
teacher writes the name under the picture. The article "A" is also
written, which, though it puzzles them, they must take on trust. It
cannot be explained at this stage. The teacher then holds up an ear
of corn. Of course they know that very well, and make the sign for it,
shelling the fore finger. It is then laid upon the opposite end of
the blackboard, and its name written under it. A short pause, with a
glance first at the horse and then at the corn, soon brings out
the sign for "eats," which is written in its proper place, and the
sentence is complete. The little "ignorants," as they are dubbed by
the older pupils, are then plunged head and ears into the task of
learning to form the written characters as well as the construction of
sentences. It is setting foot in an unexplored wilderness. No ray of
light penetrates the darkness of that wilderness save the tiny torch
just placed in their hands.
Mr. Isaac Lewis Peet, principal of the New York institution, before
referred to in this paper, has lately been preparing a textbook for
the use of deaf-mute instructors, which promises to be of great
value. It reduces the whole of the earlier stages of instruction to a
perfected system, by which each part of speech, with the various
moods and tenses of the v
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