Part 30

MOTHER: That shows how much better God can make anything than men can. Perhaps the violin is more like the voice; for it can make more tones on fewer cords; but, though it can be made to produce very sweet sounds, it can not be compared to a trained voice, which can speak words and make music at the same time.

HELEN: I’m glad I can talk and sing.

MOTHER: The voice is a gift of God. How we pity a person who is dumb! Every one should learn to speak in a clear, gentle voice. A harsh word wounds the one to whom it is spoken; and the tone often strikes deeper than the words. We have all felt soothed and comforted by kind, pleasant words. All who can should learn to sing.

“If you have a pleasant thought, Sing it, sing it; Like the birdies in their sport, Sing it from the heart.”

“It is not so much what you say, As the manner in which you say it; It is not so much the language you use, As the tones in which you convey it.

“‘Come here,’ I sharply said, And the baby cowered and wept; ‘Come here,’ I cooed, and he looked and smiled, And straight to my lap he crept.

“The words may be mild and fair, And the tones may pierce like a dart; The words may be soft as the summer air, And the tones may break the heart.

“For words but come from the mind, And grow by study and art; But the tones leap forth from the inner self, And reveal the state of the heart.

“Whether you know it or not, Whether you mean or care-- Gentleness, kindness, love, and hate, Envy, and anger are there.

“Then, would you quarrels avoid, And in peace and love rejoice, Keep anger not only out of your words, But keep it out of your voice.”

THE HEARING PASSAGE

MOTHER: While we have but one voice room, we have two hearing rooms or passages, and they are the most wonderful of any you ever did see. One is placed on each side of the head.

ELMER: Those are the ears, I know. Please let us send a sound through them, mother, and you tell us what it finds.

MOTHER: Very well; and we will suppose this sound has eyes as well as a tongue, and it will tell us what it sees. Now listen:—

All sounds are made of such tiny waves, so very, very small, that you can never see them, yet they are something like those you see when you throw a stone into the pond. The first thing a sound finds when it wishes to visit the master of the body-house, is a pretty porch just outside of the passage made for it to enter.

AMY: What does it look like?

MOTHER: Something like a shell, and it is a pretty, pale pink color. I suppose it was made this shape so it can catch and hold sound; for I have seen some people living in old houses put up their hand to make the porch larger so they could hear better.

PERCY: I have often seen grandfather do that, but I never knew why before.

MOTHER: Each sound finds a little door, which always stands open, and, though it is very small, the sound finds no trouble to get inside. This part of the passage is covered with sticky yellow wax, which is there to keep out anything which should try to go in except different kinds of sounds.

ELMER: How long is the passage?

MOTHER: Only about an inch, and it seems quite like a tunnel dug in a rock, only this is made in bone instead of stone. At the end there is a round curtain, which is drawn close and tight, like the head of a drum, so nothing but sound can get through.

PERCY: But what I would like to know is how the sound can get inside.

MOTHER: Oh, there is nothing hard about that! It may seem quite like a fairy story, but all it has to do is to knock, and then it is on the other side.

HELEN: How strange! And what does it find there?

MOTHER: Things you would never expect to see, I am sure: First, a hammer, that strikes with its handle end on the curtain, or ear-drum, as soon as sound gives a knock, and with the other end it strikes a little anvil, and the anvil kicks against a tiny stirrup. Here is a picture of them. They are all made of bone.

ELMER: Well, this beats anything we have heard yet.

MOTHER: I don’t wonder you say so; for the wisest men, who have studied the body-house for years, say the ear is one of the most wonderful parts of the body. When boys or girls have two drums, two hammers, two anvils, and two stirrups in their heads, it is no wonder that it takes plenty of noise to make them happy.

It makes me think of two little fellows I saw playing with a toy engine a few days ago. They had their mother’s knitting-needles in the smoke-stack, and as they dragged the toy over the floor, it made a fine jingle. The mother, however, wished to talk with a lady friend, and asked them to take out the needles, so they would not disturb her. “But it won’t make any n-o-i-s-e then,” said the older boy in a whining tone. I suppose the noise was a delight to all the tiny hammers and anvils in his ears; and it is much the same with every boy.