I had read this many times before without getting its full power. Now I saw that I was drifting with other deaf men out of reach of the “soft music of speech.” Suppose that I were to end my days on a desert island of complete silence! The idea haunted me for days, and I thought it out to the end. At last it came to me that Robinson Crusoe and Alexander Selkirk were but examples of brave spirits who could not be conquered by ordinary conditions. Other men have been marooned or swept ashore upon deserted or unknown islands—men of feeble will, without stern personal power. They made a struggle to hold on to civilization, but finally gave up, surrendered to natural forces, and either perished or reverted to barbarism. They, “heirs of all the ages,” renounced the progress of their race and went back nearer to the brute. Crusoe and Selkirk were made of sterner stuff. They were not to be beaten; out of the crudest materials they made home and companions and retained self-respect and much of the sweetness of life. Each made his own house in a new world, fashioned it by sheer force of will and faith. I made up my mind that I would do likewise. I would build my own house in the silent world and would make it a house of cheer. But who will help the deaf man to build his house? Where can he find the material? I meet deaf people who complain bitterly because the people with whom they work and live do not treat them with full understanding and consideration. Let us be honest, and remember how little _we_ ever went out of our way to stand by the deaf before our own affliction put us out of the social game! No doubt we laughed with the others at the queer blunders of deaf people, or let them see our annoyance when communication with them became a trouble. The chances are that we will receive fairer treatment from our associates than we ourselves gave to the afflicted in our best days. As for me, I vote the world a kindly place; people treat me reasonably. They are not cruel, but many of them are busy or selfish, and I fully realize that it is no pleasure for the average man or woman to attempt communication with the deaf. I do not blame them for avoiding it. And even when they use us well, from the very nature of the situation which separates us they can help but little in the building of these isolated houses of the silent world.