At another time one of these experimenters took me up into the church belfry, ostensibly to “see the country.” As I stood beside the bell, he suddenly struck it a hard blow with a hammer, on the theory that this sudden and violent noise would “break up the wax in my ear” and “frighten the muscle into a new grip”—whatever that may mean. He protested that his grandfather had been cured in this way. This same investigator once tried a very radical treatment on his deaf hired man. It was Sunday afternoon, and the man had sought surcease from sorrow in a nap in the haymow. The boss knew how to handle bees, so he selected one from his hives, caught it safely by its wings, and, climbing the haymow, he dropped the buzzing creature into the ear of the sleeping hired man. He was working on a supposition that the man had _forgotten how to listen_, and that the buzzing of the bee, and possibly his sting, would shock him into remembering. But the victim merely started up from sleep like an insane man, and rushed screaming to the brook, where he ducked his head vigorously under water and drowned the bee. For long weeks the poor fellow feared to go to sleep unless his ears were stuffed full of cotton. I asked the boss how he ever came to devise such a treatment for deafness. He explained that some years before he had had a sick cow, who had “lost her courage.” She positively refused to stand up, though she might easily have done so. I have also had cows act this way; they seem suddenly to have become “infirm of purpose,” and will die before they will exert themselves. A horse under similar circumstances will finally struggle to regain its feet, but the cow completely loses her nerve and will not try. I have had such a cow lifted off the ground by a rope and pulley, and yet refuse to use her legs. This farmer told me that he called in a local “horse doctor,” who suddenly threw a good-sized dog on the cow’s back. The dog barked and scratched, and under the influence of sudden fear the cow scrambled to her feet and instantly regained the power to walk. This farmer really was wiser than he knew, for there are some cases of deafness, such as those caused by shell shock, which consist in the loss of the ability to listen. Of course, our use of instruments or lip-reading dulls the art of listening intently, in any case, and it finally passes completely out of use. In some instances, where the actual ear is unimpaired, this faculty may be shocked back into use. I once had an old lady solemnly assure me that a plaster made from the lard of a white sow and the wool from the left ear of a black sheep would surely cure any case of deafness. Query: Could the black sheep of a family effect a simpler cure by rubbing on the lard and brushing his hair down over it?