3

Carrie’s Life in the Institution Commences

The fresh green of the summer foliage was fast changing to hues of crimson and gold; ripe, luscious fruit hung temptingly from the limbs of the orchard trees, and summer’s heat had given place to the cool, fresh breezes of early autumn when Carrie left her home, and, in company with her father, mother, and little sister Minnie, departed on the train for the institution for the deaf and dumb, where the greater part of her time for seven years or more was to be spent. A pleasant ride of a few hours brought them to the city. Entering an omnibus, they were driven through the populous streets of the city towards its eastern suburb. Here they entered what seemed to be a park, with beautifully smooth lawns, still green, and dotted here and there with clumps and groups of tall evergreens and grand old forest trees. Up the smooth drive, winding between rows of trees, the omnibus passed swiftly and soon halted in front of a long building, towering story above story, high into the air, presenting so commodious yet neat an aspect. Mounting a long flight of white granite steps, they paused for a moment upon the broad portico, the massive pillars of which, rising upward for two stories, inspired Carrie with a sense of awe. Presently Carrie’s father rang the doorbell, and they were soon shown into the reception room and received a warm welcome from Mr. M, the superintendent, whose kind expression of countenance and warm greeting at once won Carrie’s goodwill.

After arrangements had been perfected whereby Carrie was admitted to the institution and all its advantages, her parents spent a brief time in inspecting some of the rooms of the vast building, and then they were obliged to take leave of her and hurry away to the next train for home.

Carrie was then conducted into a large room and placed in the charge of two pretty little girls of about her own age. For a few hours she was much pleased with her newfound friends. She watched with amused interest their swift, though by her uncomprehended, motions, as they conversed together. She went with them from room to room, inspecting with childish curiosity the various arrangements, and tried, in her feeble, untrained way, to talk to them.

By and by the dinner hour came, and Carrie was placed between two of a row of girls, and soon they all marched down to the dining room. She did not enjoy the dinner. It was all so different to what she had been accustomed to at home; and so she felt shy and ill at ease. She was laughed at for the awkward manner in which she passed the pitcher of water from the girl on her right to the one on her left, and rebuked for holding her piece of pie in her hand instead of placing it on her plate, cutting it with her knife, and then conveying the pieces to her mouth with her fork. By this time she felt that she was losing what little self-possession and self-control she had, and arose to leave the table. But this was against the rules; so she was promptly motioned back to her seat.

After the meal was over she went into the large study room, where, laying her head down upon one of the many desks, she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. The storm of her grief soon spent itself, however; then she felt better and accepted with cheerful smiles the little kindnesses the other girls ventured to offer her. She was soon prevailed upon to follow some of them out of doors and join them in play, and forgetting at the time that her playmates were deaf like herself, she began talking to them as she would to persons who could hear. This brought smiles of amusement to the faces of some; others shook their heads in a perplexed way, and still others acted as if they heard what she was saying, smiling and nodding their heads in a very knowing manner.

The morning after her arrival Carrie donned a neat new calico dress and was putting into the trunk the nice alpaca she had worn during her journey, when one of the older girls, who acted as special supervisor of the others, took it from her and, going to a large wardrobe, hung it upon a hook. Carrie objected to this, fearing someone would steal it, and she insisted upon putting it in her trunk; but the supervisor refused to allow her to do so. This so angered Carrie that she at once secured her hat and, declaring she would go home, glided past the supervisor and hurried downstairs and out of doors. The supervisor, who had followed the would-be runaway as fast as she could, succeeded in catching her before she had proceeded far, but she could not induce her to return. Soon the superintendent, who had been watching the scene from his window, came out upon the broad balcony, descended the steps, and came to the spot where Carrie, held an unyielding prisoner, stood. After some little time he succeeded, by his gentle manner, in inducing her to accompany the supervisor back to the house.

She had hardly reached the side door by which they must enter when Miss Tyndall, the matron of the institution, with an expression of great displeasure upon her face, came up to Carrie, seized her roughly by the arm, and administered a series of stinging blows upon her cheeks. From that hour Carrie both feared and hated Miss Tyndall. There are persons who can be rightly governed only by kindness, and who are made worse instead of better if severity is employed to correct them. Such a one was Carrie. Miss Tyndall, however, was one of that class who consider chastisement to be the proper remedy for all cases of disobedience, and thought she was only doing her duty in administering it. Carrie’s actions seemed to convince her, however, that she had made a mistake in her mode of treatment, and she set about making amends for her harshness. Calling some of the other girls, she directed them to get their hats and accompany Carrie in a walk through the beautiful grounds of the institution. To this arrangement Carrie offered no objections, and the balmy air and charming autumn scenery, together with the pleasant manners of her companions, soon restored her cheerful spirits.

The next two days witnessed the arrival of many more girls and boys with bright, happy-looking faces. Their silent yet spirited conversation, and the play of varied expressions upon their countenances, proved for Carrie a source of much interest, though she kept shyly apart from the busy, animated talkers, aware of her inability to take part in their silent conversation.