After they had succeeded in pacifying the German they explained to the deaf man. They had engaged a celebrated cornet soloist for the benefit concert, and had sent a reception committee to the station to meet him. It was late, and these nervous men had never seen the great musician. They did see a dignified man carrying what looked like a case for musical instruments. When they asked him if he was Professor Hoffman, the deaf man merely nodded his head as the quickest way to get rid of them, and they naturally rushed him to the theater without further ado, leaving the musician to find his way alone. This deaf man had a keen sense of humor, and greatly relished the situation, but the German had never recognized a joke in his life, so he continued to glare at the “impostor.” After a most humble apology about all the committee could offer as recompense was an invitation to the deaf man to _remain and hear the music_. He remained and was interested in seeing his musical rival blow himself up to nearly twice his natural size in order properly to express his feelings through his cornet. Many of his most amusing and at the same time tragic experiences come to the deaf man through his association with drunken people. We meet them in all our travels, and I must confess that I have never found a more interesting study than that which deals with the effect of alcohol upon the human character. A drunken deaf man is a most pitiable object, but to the observant deaf man his drunken neighbor presents a case of infinite wonder and variety. We see men naturally grim and silent singing ridiculous songs, or attempting to dance. Men usually profane, making no pretense at religion, suddenly quote from the Scriptures devoutly. Quarrelsome men of rough, ugly temper overwhelm us with attentions, while men of kindly nature challenge us to fight. We see it all, and must judge such people mainly by their actions. Usually drunken men begin to talk to me. When they find that I do not reply they generally foam over with sorrow or anger, and it is hard to decide which is the more embarrassing. Once in a strange town when I was looking about for my friends the town drunkard accosted me. I have never known just what he did want, but when I explained that I was a stranger looking for a certain street he volunteered to show me the way. So he caught my arm and led me up the street, staggering against me at every other step, and talking loudly. And on our way we met my friend and his wife, sober and dignified persons who were horrified at my appearance under the escort of the town drunkard. In his sober moments my guide would never have thought of associating with these aristocratic representatives of Main Street, but now he greeted them jovially, as old friends. It was a most embarrassing situation, and my friends, being absolutely devoid of humor, have never felt quite sure of me since the incident.