Who misses or who wins the prize.
Go; lose or conquer as you can,
And if you fail, or if you rise,
Be each, pray God, a gentleman!”
And Lump would sit at the other side of the fire, turn his wise head to one side, and look over at me as if to say:
“Old fellow, we are two of a kind—a rejected kind. They pity us for our misfortune; let’s make them envy us for our advantages. I know more of the habits of rats and mice than any cat in this neighborhood, because I have been forced to study them. I have made new ears out of my eyes and nose and brain, and so developed a new sense—instinct, which is worth far more than their hearing. Why can’t you do the same with men?”
Those were great nights with Lump before my fire, and we both understood that when the interview was over he was to go outside. One night, however, I forgot this, and as I went sleepily off to bed he stayed curled up by the warm hearth. The dreams of a deaf man are usually vivid and emphatic. Sleep may be your time for rest and relief from noise; with us it may be our period of music and excitement. That night I dreamed that I was engaged in a prize-fight. I had given the other man a knockout blow, when suddenly the referee came up from behind and struck me on the side with such force that my ribs all seemed to give way. I “came to” to find an energetic figure sitting up in bed beside me, and pounding my side in an effort to bring me back to assume my true position as defender of the family. Around the bed were grouped several small white figures, and at last they made me understand.
“There’s someone downstairs. He’s robbing the house. We can hear him. Go down and see about it!”
“What’s he doing?”
“Playing the piano.”