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Updated: June 21, 2025
I should be very happy to come and teach you the Braille sometime, if you have time to learn, but I am afraid you are too busy. A few days ago I received a little box of English violets from Lady Meath. The flowers were wilted, but the kind thought which came with them was as sweet and as fresh as newly pulled violets. With loving greeting to the little cousins, and Mrs.
He had never been good at modern math so his studies were centered innocuously in musicology. "What do I know about this?" he asked himself. "What do I know about anything?" "Will they do that to the North Koreans?" "I don't know. Don't know hope not. What are you reading?" "Nothing." "What's nothing?" "Comics." "In Braille?" "Yes." "You can't see the pictures.
Vining was a perfect stranger to me, and could not communicate with me except by writing in braille. The Proctor also was a stranger, and did not attempt to communicate with me in any way; and, as they were both unfamiliar with my speech, they could not readily understand what I said to them.
Before Helen made her final copy of the story, it was suggested to her to change its title to "The Frost King," as more appropriate to the subject of which the story treated; to this she willingly assented. The story was written by Helen in braille, as usual and copied by her in the same manner, I then interlined the manuscript for the greater convenience of those who desired to read it.
There were cabinets, for instance, measured to the twentieth of an inch, and men who were studying to be masseurs who, only by touch, could distinguish all the bones in the body. There was Miss Woods, a blind stenographer. I dictated a sentence to her, and as fast as I spoke she took it down on a machine in the Braille alphabet.
I did teach Miss Hall, my teacher in Physics, how to write the American braille, but she never gave me any instruction by means of it, unless a few problems written for practice, which made me waste much precious time deciphering them, can be called instruction.
I thought then that I was "making up a story," as children say, and I eagerly sat down to write it before the ideas should slip from me. My thoughts flowed easily; I felt a sense of joy in the composition. Words and images came tripping to my finger ends, and as I thought out sentence after sentence, I wrote them on my braille slate.
I've a great scheme; a sort of braille system of accountancy " "Please, Gerald not now!" "If only, Hester, I felt easier about the finances. Will your savings stand the strain? Your staying at home from your work this way and then me " "Gerald dear, I've told you so often I've saved more than we need." "My girl!" "My dear, my dear!" she said.
But I am now able to take dictation in Braille shorthand at the rate of one hundred and twenty words per minute and then transcribe my notes on any typewriting machine on the market just as speedily as the ordinary sighted typist. And I never operated a typewriting machine before I became a student at St. Dunstan's. As I said, I am back in Canada, and not getting my living through charity.
Miss Sullivan could not spell out in my hand all that the books required, and it was very difficult to have textbooks embossed in time to be of use to me, although my friends in London and Philadelphia were willing to hasten the work. For a while, indeed, I had to copy my Latin in braille, so that I could recite with the other girls.
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