oming
as a matter of course. Entering the gate to the left, the first object
to meet the eye is the lodge-keeper's house, a picturesque,
rose-embowered structure. Then comes the lawn, a wide stretch of velvety
turf, cool and restful. The approach to the House itself is through an
avenue of mulberry trees, well intermingled with lime. In the summer
season the air is filled with the scent of flowers, welling forth from
roses, yellow jasmine, and pink almond blossoms. Entering the building
by the main entrance, to the left of the hallway the visitor sees the
office of Sir Arthur and those of his staff, who, under the supervision
of the chief, control the hostel. At either side of the hallway are two
magnificent chairs, one of which was the favourite seat of Edward the
Peacemaker, and the other that of Kaiser Wilhelm II., the German War
Lord. Passing through the hallway, the lounge room is reached, and a
little farther the outer lounge, formerly Lord Londesborough's ballroom,
where are staged the charming concerts for which the House is famous.

But St. Dunstan's is not a mere resthouse. It is essentially a humming
hive of industry, an educational institution where there is something
for everyone to learn. Whether a man can see or not, he can here find
occupation for his hands and mind. After all, we do not _see_ with our
_eyes_; they merely carry sights to the seeing brain, and the hands, and
even feet, can perform the same duties, only in a different way.
Teachers were many and willing. And here I should like to record the
fact that no one can teach the blind quite as well as the other fellow
who is also sightless. I know whereof I speak, for I have been piloted
around localities by people who could see and also by people whose
"eyesight was not as good as it once was." This last expression is
borrowed from Sir Arthur, who always speaks of his sightless boys as:
"The boys whose eyesight is not quite as good as it once was."

About a week after the boys had returned from their vacation, I had a
chance to visit the workshops. What a hive of industry these same
workshops are! Go there, you men and women blessed with sight, and see
for yourselves what your sightless brother is doing in the way of making
himself over again, bringing into play his latent powers, and turning
what seemed to be a worthless creature, a burden to himself and
humanity, into the only asset--a producer--that is worth while to any
country. The obstacle