During the years of expectancy, when we continue to look forward to a cure, we deaf generally try to deceive ourselves along with others by refusing to admit our condition, and by attempting to conceal the defect in conversation. Many people are more or less deaf in one ear; frequently they really do not realize the extent of their affliction. They go through strange performances in their efforts to hear. Have you ever seen a horse or a mule traveling with one ear bent forward and the other reversed? The animal is, no doubt, somewhat defective in hearing, and he “points” his ears front and back so as to catch all noises, particularly commands from the driver. Back in the earlier ages man also possessed this power of moving the ears; most of us have seen individuals who still can control the muscles on the side of the head so that their ears “wiggle.” All of us still have these muscles, even if they have fallen out of use. Ear specialists say that many of us do actually move our ears slightly when making a great effort to catch the conversation. At any rate, human beings with defective hearing must bend forward, or even move about a circle of talkers to get in full range of the voices. We wonder sometimes why people insist upon getting on a certain side of their companions, and always walk on the inside of the street. Such a person is merely maneuvering to present the live side of his head. It is really very foolish for the deaf to attempt to conceal their affliction; it places us in a false position, and we are at an added disadvantage in society. We may hide our trouble for a time, but sooner or later we will be found out, and it is far wiser to be frank in the first place. Some of our misguided efforts to pose as full men have humorous results. We have various tricks of the trade which we at times employ to catch or hold conversation. One common plan is to lead the discussion along lines which will enable us to do most of the talking. It has been said of the deaf man that he either talks all the time or else says nothing, and that sometimes he does both at once. Sometimes we meet a talker who is desperately determined to tell all of his own story—which is one involving many fatal direct questions, such as “Am I right?” “Do I make myself clear?” Then the deaf man is hopelessly lost, and the part of wisdom is to produce pencil and pad.