believe in its genuineness, and urging him to
admit to her in confidence that it was all a
sham. Then she would be angry with him for
his obstinacy, and rate him soundly, or perhaps
have recourse to ridicule, and laugh al him in
the most aggravating manner possible. But
Private Strong was proof against it all. He
was deaf to her entreaties, he smiled at her
irritation, he joined in the laugh against
himself when she was sarcastic. Finally he retired
triumphant from the encounter, having passed
a very pleasant afternoon, having eaten and
drunk many good things, and leaving the
question of the real or fictitious nature of his
infirmity exactly where it had been when he
set out in the morning to spend the day in Dr.
Curzon's flower-garden.

The dumb man's statement now began to be
believed by many who had before treated it
with contempt. But the handmaiden
maintained stoutly her conviction that Private
Strong was certainly shamming, and was no
more dumb than she was.

It was soon after the failure of this experiment,
and about four months subsequent to the time
of Strong's first attack, that the writer of this
brief abstract, happening to be in the
neighbourhood of Chatham, first heard the outline
of the dumb man's story. It was soon arranged
that on a particular day, which suited the
convenience of all concerned, he should go over to
the depot, and pay a visit to this singular
person, in company with a certain military
officer and the regimental surgeon, Dr. Curzon.

This last-named gentleman, as we walked
along in the direction of the place where the
speechless soldier was at work, took the
opportunity of relating some circumstances worthy
of recapitulation here. It appeared that in the
very regiment in which Dr. Curzon held his
appointment there had lately occurred a case
indicating such power of sustaining a deception
possessed by one of the ordinary rank and
file, as might well serve to make any regimental
surgeon suspicious of the men under his charge.
In this instance the assumed disease had been a
combination of rheumatism and paralysis affecting
the head and one of the arms. The head was
completely forced out of its natural position, and
bowed over to one side; the shoulder on the same
side being raised to the ear, and the arm fixed
in a bent position against the body. Of course
such an affliction was fatal to everything in
the shape of drill, and to the performance of
any military duty; accordingly all sorts of
remedies were applied with a view of curing
this unfortunate recruit of his distortion, and
getting his head and arm back into their
natural condition. Some of these remedies were
sufficiently painful. Experiments were made
with red-hot irons, and others in which
certain forms of acupuncture were resorted to.
The unfortunate cripple endured all without
flinching, but not one of them seemed to make
the slightest impression on his malady. The
obstinacy and peculiarity of the case had
awakened some suspicion in the medical authorities,
and he had been watched by night as
well as by day. Not to the slightest purpose,
the man retaining in his sleep, as in his waking
hours, that same distorted position, with the
head forced over on one side and the arm fixed
tightly against the body.

There is no doubt that this fact—which
if to be accounted for at all can only be
explained by supposing some power of
exercising the will to be retainable by some men
even in their sleep—had its influence in
disarming the suspicion of those with whom the
power of granting discharges rested. At all
events, a medical board meeting was held,
evidence was adduced to show that night and
day this unfortunate cripple was never seen in
any other position than in this distorted one,
that all remedial applications were inefficacious,
and that the recruit being utterly useless and
unfit for service, there was nothing for it but
to discharge him. Discharged he was accordingly.
A fortnight afterwards, Dr. Curzon met
him in the street walking along with his head
erect and his arms swinging at his sides like
other people. Indeed, the man actually had
the audacity to address the doctor, and to
congratulate him on the success of his medical
treatment of the case: remarking that he was
perfectly cured now, and very much obliged to
the authorities for his discharge, as it had
enabled him to take a very good situation in the
town.

The doctor added, in reference to the present
case, that he had resolved to utilise the man as
he best could, and had accordingly sent him to
the tailors' shop, where his dumbness would
not stand in his way, and where his previous
habits—for he had been bred a tailor—would
be favourable to his making himself useful. By
means of this arrangement, the necessity of
taking immediate action in the difficult matter
was obviated, and time gained in which to test
him further. As the doctor concluded, we
arrived at the door of the building appropriated
to the regimental tailoring department, and
went in.

Half a dozen soldiers were sitting on a raised
tailors' board in the well-known professional
attitude. They all raised their heads when we
entered, except one: who, seated nearly with
his back to the door, just turned his head and
his eyes for a moment slightly, in our direction,
and then went on with his sewing. A
moment afterwards, on the name of "Strong"
being called out by the doctor, this same
person sprang off the board with quite a
curious display of activity, and stood confronting
us, with his hands close down by his sides,
his stockinged feet so close together that the
great toes touched each other, and his eyes
staring very intently straight before him at
the doctor. This gentleman then proceeded
to ask him some questions, as, indeed, we all
did—how he felt, whether there was any
change in his condition, what was the state of
his general health, and the like. He answered
by gesticulation, always of a very energetic
kind, and sometimes by means of the deaf and
dumb alphabet on his fingers. He told us in