LETTERS (1887-1901)

Miss Sullivan began to teach Helen Keller on March 3rd, 1887.

Three months and a half after the first word was spelled into her

hand, she wrote in pencil this letter

TO HER COUSIN ANNA, MRS. GEORGE T. TURNER

[Tuscumbia, Alabama, June 17, 1887.]

helen write anna george will give helen apple simpson will shoot

bird jack will give helen stick of candy doctor will give mildred

medicine mother will make mildred new dress

[No signature]

Twenty-five days later, while she was on a short visit away from

home, she wrote to her mother. Two words are almost illegible,

and the angular print slants in every direction.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

[Huntsville, Alabama, July 12, 1887.]

Helen will write mother letter papa did give helen medicine

mildred will sit in swing mildred did kiss helen teacher did give

helen peach george is sick in bed george arm is hurt anna did

give helen lemonade dog did stand up.

conductor did punch ticket papa did give helen drink of water in

car

carlotta did give helen flowers anna will buy helen pretty new

hat helen will hug and kiss mother helen will come home

grandmother does love helen

good-by

[No signature.]

By the following September Helen shows improvement in fulness of

construction and more extended relations of thought.

TO THE BLIND GIRLS AT THE PERKINS INSTITUTION IN SOUTH BOSTON

[Tuscumbia, September, 1887.]

Helen will write little blind girls a letter Helen and teacher

will come to see little blind girls Helen and teacher will go in

steam car to boston Helen and blind girls will have fun blind

girls can talk on fingers Helen will see Mr anagnos Mr anagnos

will love and kiss Helen Helen will go to school with blind girls

Helen can read and count and spell and write like blind girls

mildred will not go to boston Mildred does cry prince and jumbo

will go to boston papa does shoot ducks with gun and ducks do

fall in water and jumbo and mamie do swim in water and bring

ducks out in mouth to papa Helen does play with dogs Helen does

ride on horseback with teacher Helen does give handee grass in

hand teacher does whip handee to go fast Helen is blind Helen

will put letter in envelope for blind girls good-by

HELEN KELLER

A few weeks later her style is more nearly correct and freer in

movement. She improves in idiom, although she still omits

articles and uses the "did" construction for the simple past.

This is an idiom common among children.

TO THE BLIND GIRLS AT THE PERKINS INSTITUTION

[Tuscumbia, October 24, 1887.]

dear little blind girls

I will write you a letter I thank you for pretty desk I did write

to mother in memphis on it mother and mildred came home wednesday

mother brought me a pretty new dress and hat papa did go to

huntsville he brought me apples and candy I and teacher will come

to boston and see you nancy is my doll she does cry I do rock

nancy to sleep mildred is sick doctor will give her medicine to

make her well. I and teacher did go to church sunday mr. lane did

read in book and talk Lady did play organ. I did give man money

in basket. I will be good girl and teacher will curl my hair

lovely. I will hug and kiss little blind girls mr. anagnos will

come to see me.

good-by

HELEN KELLER

TO MR. MICHAEL ANAGNOS, DIRECTOR OF THE PERKINS INSTITUTION

[Tuscumbia, November, 1887.]

dear mr. anagnos I will write you a letter. I and teacher did

have pictures. teacher will send it to you. photographer does

make pictures. carpenter does build new houses. gardener does dig

and hoe ground and plant vegetables. my doll nancy is sleeping.

she is sick. mildred is well uncle frank has gone hunting deer.

we will have venison for breakfast when he comes home. I did ride

in wheel barrow and teacher did push it. simpson did give me

popcorn and walnuts. cousin rosa has gone to see her mother.

people do go to church sunday. I did read in my book about fox

and box. fox can sit in the box. I do like to read in my book.

you do love me. I do love you.

good-by

HELEN KELLER.

TO DR. ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL

[Tuscumbia, November, 1887.]

Dear Mr. Bell.

I am glad to write you a letter, Father will send you picture. I

and Father and aunt did go to see you in Washington. I did play

with your watch. I do love you. I saw doctor in Washington. He

looked at my eyes. I can read stories in my book. I can write and

spell and count. good girl. My sister can walk and run. We do

have fun with Jumbo. Prince is not good dog. He can not get

birds. Rat did kill baby pigeons. I am sorry. Rat does not know

wrong. I and mother and teacher will go to Boston in June. I will

see little blind girls. Nancy will go with me. She is a good

doll. Father will buy me lovely new watch. Cousin Anna gave me a

pretty doll. Her name is Allie.

Good-by,

HELEN KELLER.

By the beginning of the next year her idioms are firmer. More

adjectives appear, including adjectives of colour. Although she

can have no sensuous knowledge of colour, she can use the words,

as we use most of our vocabulary, intellectually, with truth, not

to impression, but to fact. This letter is to a school-mate at

the Perkins Institution.

TO MISS SARAH TOMLINSON

Tuscumbia, Ala. Jan. 2nd 1888.

Dear Sarah

I am happy to write to you this morning. I hope Mr. Anagnos is

coming to see me soon. I will go to Boston in June and I will buy

father gloves, and James nice collar, and Simpson cuffs. I saw

Miss Betty and her scholars. They had a pretty Christmas-tree,

and there were many pretty presents on it for little children. I

had a mug, and little bird and candy. I had many lovely things

for Christmas. Aunt gave me a trunk for Nancy and clothes. I went

to party with teacher and mother. We did dance and play and eat

nuts and candy and cakes and oranges and I did have fun with

little boys and girls. Mrs. Hopkins did send me lovely ring, I do

love her and little blind girls.

Men and boys do make carpets in mills. Wool grows on sheep. Men

do cut sheep's wool off with large shears, and send it to the

mill. Men and women do make wool cloth in mills.

Cotton grows on large stalks in fields. Men and boys and girls

and women do pick cotton. We do make thread and cotton dresses of

cotton. Cotton has pretty white and red flowers on it. Teacher

did tear her dress. Mildred does cry. I will nurse Nancy. Mother

will buy me lovely new aprons and dress to take to Boston. I went

to Knoxville with father and aunt. Bessie is weak and little.

Mrs. Thompson's chickens killed Leila's chickens. Eva does sleep

in my bed. I do love good girls.

Good-by

HELEN KELLER.

The next two letters mention her visit in January to her

relatives in Memphis, Tennessee. She was taken to the cotton

exchange. When she felt the maps and blackboards she asked, "Do

men go to school?" She wrote on the blackboard the names of all

the gentlemen present. While at Memphis she went over one of the

large Mississippi steamers.

TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE

Tuscumbia, Alabama, February 15th 1888.

Dear Mr. Hale,

I am happy to write you a letter this morning. Teacher told me

about kind gentleman I shall be glad to read pretty story I do

read stories in my book about tigers and lions and sheep.

I am coming to Boston in June to see little blind girls and I

will come to see you. I went to Memphis to see grandmother and

Aunt Nannie. Teacher bought me lovely new dress and cap and

aprons. Little Natalie is a very weak and small baby. Father took

us to see steamboat. It was on a large river. Boat is like house.

Mildred is a good baby. I do love to play with little sister.

Nancy was not a good child when I went to Memphis. She did cry

loud. I will not write more to-day. I am tired.

Good-by

HELEN KELLER.

TO MR. MICHAEL ANAGNOS

Tuscumbia, Ala., Feb. 24th, 1888.

My dear Mr. Anagnos,—I am glad to write you a letter in Braille.

This morning Lucien Thompson sent me a beautiful bouquet of

violets and crocuses and jonquils. Sunday Adeline Moses brought

me a lovely doll. It came from New York. Her name is Adeline

Keller. She can shut her eyes and bend her arms and sit down and

stand up straight. She has on a pretty red dress. She is Nancy's

sister and I am their mother. Allie is their cousin. Nancy was a

bad child when I went to Memphis she cried loud, I whipped her

with a stick.

Mildred does feed little chickens with crumbs. I love to play

with little sister.

Teacher and I went to Memphis to see aunt Nannie and grandmother.

Louise is aunt Nannie's child. Teacher bought me a lovely new

dress and gloves and stockings and collars and grandmother made

me warm flannels, and aunt Nannie made me aprons. Lady made me a

pretty cap. I went to see Robert and Mr. Graves and Mrs. Graves

and little Natalie, and Mr. Farris and Mr. Mayo and Mary and

everyone. I do love Robert and teacher. She does not want me to

write more today. I feel tired.

I found box of candy in Mr. Grave's pocket. Father took us to see

steam boat it is like house. Boat was on very large river. Yates

plowed yard today to plant grass. Mule pulled plow. Mother will

make garden of vegetables. Father will plant melons and peas and

beans.

Cousin Bell will come to see us Saturday. Mother will make

ice-cream for dinner, we will have ice-cream and cake for dinner.

Lucien Thompson is sick. I am sorry for him.

Teacher and I went to walk in the yard, and I learned about how

flowers and trees grow. Sun rises in the east and sets in the

west. Sheffield is north and Tuscumbia is south. We will go to

Boston in June. I will have fun with little blind girls.

Good bye

HELEN KELLER.

"Uncle Morrie" of the next letter is Mr. Morrison Heady, of

Normandy, Kentucky, who lost his sight and hearing when he was a

boy. He is the author of some commendable verses.

TO MR. MORRISON HEADY

Tuscumbia, Ala., March 1st 1888.

My dear uncle Morrie,—I am happy to write you a letter, I do

love you, and I will hug and kiss you when I see you.

Mr. Anagnos is coming to see me Monday. I do love to run and hop

and skip with Robert in bright warm sun. I do know little girl in

Lexington Ky. her name is Katherine Hobson.

I am going to Boston in June with mother and teacher, I will have

fun with little blind girls, and Mr. Hale will send me pretty

story. I do read stories in my book about lions and tigers and

bears.

Mildred will not go to Boston, she does cry. I love to play with

little sister, she is weak and small baby. Eva is better.

Yates killed ants, ants stung Yates. Yates is digging in garden.

Mr. Anagnos did see oranges, they look like golden apples.

Robert will come to see me Sunday when sun shines and I will have

fun with him. My cousin Frank lives in Louisville. I will come to

Memphis again to see Mr. Farris and Mrs. Graves and Mr. Mayo and

Mr. Graves. Natalie is a good girl and does not cry, and she will

be big and Mrs. Graves is making short dresses for her. Natalie

has a little carriage. Mr. Mayo has been to Duck Hill and he

brought sweet flowers home.

With much love and a kiss

HELEN A. KELLER.

In this account of the picnic we get an illuminating glimpse of

Miss Sullivan's skill in teaching her pupil during play hours.

This was a day when the child's vocabulary grew.

TO MR. MICHAEL ANAGNOS

Tuscumbia, Ala., May 3rd 1888.

Dear Mr. Anagnos.—I am glad to write to you this morning,

because I love you very much. I was very happy to receive pretty

book and nice candy and two letters from you. I will come to see

you soon and will ask you many questions about countries and you

will love good child.

Mother is making me pretty new dresses to wear in Boston and I

will look lovely to see little girls and boys and you. Friday

teacher and I went to a picnic with little children. We played

games and ate dinner under the trees, and we found ferns and wild

flowers. I walked in the woods and learned names of many trees.

There are poplar and cedar and pine and oak and ash and hickory

and maple trees. They make a pleasant shade and the little birds

love to swing to and fro and sing sweetly up in the trees.

Rabbits hop and squirrels run and ugly snakes do crawl in the

woods. Geraniums and roses jasamines and japonicas are cultivated

flowers. I help mother and teacher water them every night before

supper.

Cousin Arthur made me a swing in the ash tree. Aunt Ev. has gone

to Memphis. Uncle Frank is here. He is picking strawberries for

dinner. Nancy is sick again, new teeth do make her ill. Adeline

is well and she can go to Cincinnati Monday with me. Aunt Ev.

will send me a boy doll, Harry will be Nancy's and Adeline's

brother. Wee sister is a good girl. I am tired now and I do want

to go down stairs. I send many kisses and hugs with letter.

Your darling child

HELEN KELLER.

Toward the end of May Mrs. Keller, Helen, and Miss Sullivan

started for Boston. On the way they spent a few days in

Washington, where they saw Dr. Alexander Graham Bell and called

on President Cleveland. On May 26th they arrived in Boston and

went to the Perkins Institution; here Helen met the little blind

girls with whom she had corresponded the year before.

Early in July she went to Brewster, Massachusetts, and spent the

rest of the summer. Here occurred her first encounter with the

sea, of which she has since written.

TO MISS MARY C. MOORE

So. Boston, Mass. Sept. 1888

My dear Miss Moore

Are you very glad to receive a nice letter from your darling

little friend? I love you very dearly because you are my friend.

My precious little sister is quite well now. She likes to sit in

my little rocking-chair and put her kitty to sleep. Would you

like to see darling little Mildred? She is a very pretty baby.

Her eyes are very big and blue, and her cheeks are soft and round

and rosy and her hair is very bright and golden. She is very good

and sweet when she does not cry loud. Next summer Mildred will go

out in the garden with me and pick the big sweet strawberries and

then she will be very happy. I hope she will not eat too many of

the delicious fruit for they will make her very ill.

Sometime will you please come to Alabama and visit me? My uncle

James is going to buy me a very gentle pony and a pretty cart and

I shall be very happy to take you and Harry to ride. I hope Harry

will not be afraid of my pony. I think my father will buy me a

beautiful little brother some day. I shall be very gentle and

patient to my new little brother. When I visit many strange

countries my brother and Mildred will stay with grandmother

because they will be too small to see a great many people and I

think they would cry loud on the great rough ocean.

When Capt. Baker gets well he will take me in his big ship to

Africa. Then I shall see lions and tigers and monkeys. I will get

a baby lion and a white monkey and a mild bear to bring home. I

had a very pleasant time at Brewster. I went in bathing almost

every day and Carrie and Frank and little Helen and I had fun. We

splashed and jumped and waded in the deep water. I am not afraid

to float now. Can Harry float and swim? We came to Boston last

Thursday, and Mr. Anagnos was delighted to see me, and he hugged

and kissed me. The little girls are coming back to school next

Wednesday.

Will you please tell Harry to write me a very long letter soon?

When you come to Tuscumbia to see me I hope my father will have

many sweet apples and juicy peaches and fine pears and delicious

grapes and large water melons.

I hope you think about me and love me because I am a good little

child.

With much love and two kisses

From your little friend

HELEN A. KELLER.

In this account of a visit to some friends, Helen's thought is

much what one would expect from an ordinary child of eight,

except perhaps her naive satisfaction in the boldness of the

young gentlemen.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

So. Boston, Mass, Sept. 24th 1888.

My dear Mother,

I think you will be very glad to know all about my visit to West

Newton. Teacher and I had a lovely time with many kind friends.

West Newton is not far from Boston and we went there in the steam

cars very quickly.

Mrs. Freeman and Carrie and Ethel and Frank and Helen came to

station to meet us in a huge carriage. I was delighted to see my

dear little friends and I hugged and kissed them. Then we rode

for a long time to see all the beautiful things in West Newton.

Many very handsome houses and large soft green lawns around them

and trees and bright flowers and fountains. The horse's name was

Prince and he was gentle and liked to trot very fast. When we

went home we saw eight rabbits and two fat puppies, and a nice

little white pony, and two wee kittens and a pretty curly dog

named Don. Pony's name was Mollie and I had a nice ride on her

back; I was not afraid, I hope my uncle will get me a dear little

pony and a little cart very soon.

Clifton did not kiss me because he does not like to kiss little

girls. He is shy. I am very glad that Frank and Clarence and

Robbie and Eddie and Charles and George were not very shy. I

played with many little girls and we had fun. I rode on Carrie's

tricicle and picked flowers and ate fruit and hopped and skipped

and danced and went to ride. Many ladies and gentlemen came to

see us. Lucy and Dora and Charles were born in China. I was born

in America, and Mr. Anagnos was born in Greece. Mr. Drew says

little girls in China cannot talk on their fingers but I think

when I go to China I will teach them. Chinese nurse came to see

me, her name was Asu. She showed me a tiny atze that very rich

ladies in China wear because their feet never grow large. Amah

means a nurse. We came home in horse cars because it was Sunday

and steam cars do not go often on Sunday. Conductors and

engineers do get very tired and go home to rest. I saw little

Willie Swan in the car and he gave me a juicy pear. He was six

years old. What did I do when I was six years old? Will you

please ask my father to come to train to meet teacher and me? I

am very sorry that Eva and Bessie are sick. I hope I can have a

nice party my birthday, and I do want Carrie and Ethel and Frank

and Helen to come to Alabama to visit me. Will Mildred sleep with

me when I come home.

With much love and thousand kisses.

From your dear little daughter.

HELEN A. KELLER.

Her visit to Plymouth was in July. This letter, written three

months later, shows how well she remembered her first lesson in

history.

TO MR. MORRISON HEADY

South Boston, Mass. October 1st, 1888.

My dear uncle Morrie,—I think you will be very glad to receive a

letter from your dear little friend Helen. I am very happy to

write to you because I think of you and love you. I read pretty

stories in the book you sent me, about Charles and his boat, and

Arthur and his dream, and Rosa and the sheep.

I have been in a large boat. It was like a ship. Mother and

teacher and Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. Anagnos and Mr. Rodocanachi and

many other friends went to Plymouth to see many old things. I

will tell you a little story about Plymouth.

Many years ago there lived in England many good people, but the

king and his friends were not kind and gentle and patient with

good people, because the king did not like to have the people

disobey him. People did not like to go to church with the king;

but they did like to build very nice little churches for

themselves.

The king was very angry with the people and they were sorry and

they said, we will go away to a strange country to live and leave

very dear home and friends and naughty king. So, they put all

their things into big boxes, and said, Good-bye. I am sorry for

them because they cried much. When they went to Holland they did

not know anyone; and they could not know what the people were

talking about because they did not know Dutch. But soon they

learned some Dutch words; but they loved their own language and

they did not want little boys and girls to forget it and learn to

talk funny Dutch. So they said, We must go to a new country far

away and build schools and houses and churches and make new

cities. So they put all their things in boxes and said, Good-bye

to their new friends and sailed away in a large boat to find a

new country. Poor people were not happy for their hearts were

full of sad thoughts because they did not know much about

America. I think little children must have been afraid of a great

ocean for it is very strong and it makes a large boat rock and

then the little children would fall down and hurt their heads.

After they had been many weeks on the deep ocean where they could

not see trees or flowers or grass, but just water and the

beautiful sky, for ships could not sail quickly then because men

did not know about engines and steam. One day a dear little

baby-boy was born. His name was Peregrine White. I am very sorry

that poor little Peregrine is dead now. Every day the people went

upon deck to look out for land. One day there was a great shout

on the ship for the people saw the land and they were full of joy

because they had reached a new country safely. Little girls and

boys jumped and clapped their hands. They were all glad when they

stepped upon a huge rock. I did see the rock in Plymouth and a

little ship like the Mayflower and the cradle that dear little

Peregrine slept in and many old things that came in the

Mayflower. Would you like to visit Plymouth some time and see

many old things.

Now I am very tired and I will rest.

With much love and many kisses, from your little friend.

HELEN A. KELLER.

The foreign words in these two letters, the first of which was

written during a visit to the kindergarten for the blind, she had

been told months before, and had stowed them away in her memory.

She assimilated words and practised with them, sometimes using

them intelligently, sometimes repeating them in a parrot-like

fashion. Even when she did not fully understand words or ideas,

she liked to set them down as though she did. It was in this way

that she learned to use correctly words of sound and vision which

express ideas outside of her experience. "Edith" is Edith Thomas.

TO MR. MICHAEL ANAGNOS

Roxbury, Mass. Oct. 17th, 1888.

Mon cher Monsieur Anagnos,

I am sitting by the window and the beautiful sun is shining on me

Teacher and I came to the kindergarten yesterday. There are

twenty seven little children here and they are all blind. I am

sorry because they cannot see much. Sometime will they have very

well eyes? Poor Edith is blind and deaf and dumb. Are you very

sad for Edith and me? Soon I shall go home to see my mother and

my father and my dear good and sweet little sister. I hope you

will come to Alabama to visit me and I will take you to ride in

my little cart and I think you will like to see me on my dear

little pony's back. I shall wear my lovely cap and my new riding

dress. If the sun shines brightly I will take you to see Leila

and Eva and Bessie. When I am thirteen years old I am going to

travel in many strange and beautiful countries. I shall climb

very high mountains in Norway and see much ice and snow. I hope I

will not fall and hurt my head I shall visit little Lord

Fauntleroy in England and he will be glad to show me his grand

and very ancient castle. And we will run with the deer and feed

the rabbits and catch the squirrels. I shall not be afraid of

Fauntleroy's great dog Dougal. I hope Fauntleroy take me to see a

very kind queen. When I go to France I will take French. A little

French boy will say, Parlez-vous Francais? and I will say, Oui,

Monsieur, vous avez un joli chapeau. Donnez moi un baiser. I hope

you will go with me to Athens to see the maid of Athens. She was

very lovely lady and I will talk Greek to her. I will say, se

agapo and, pos echete and I think she will say, kalos, and then I

will say chaere. Will you please come to see me soon and take me

to the theater? When you come I will say, Kale emera, and when

you go home I will say, Kale nykta. Now I am too tired to write

more. Je vous aime. Au revoir

From your darling little friend

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MISS EVELINA H. KELLER

[So. Boston, Mass. October 29, 1888.]

My dearest Aunt,—I am coming home very soon and I think you and

every one will be very glad to see my teacher and me. I am very

happy because I have learned much about many things. I am

studying French and German and Latin and Greek. Se agapo is

Greek, and it means I love thee. J'ai une bonne petite soeur is

French, and it means I have a good little sister. Nous avons un

bon pere et une bonne mere means, we have a good father and a

good mother. Puer is boy in Latin, and Mutter is mother in

German. I will teach Mildred many languages when I come home.

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MRS. SOPHIA C. HOPKINS

Tuscumbia, Ala. Dec. 11th, 1888.

My dear Mrs. Hopkins:—

I have just fed my dear little pigeon. My brother Simpson gave it

to me last Sunday. I named it Annie, for my teacher. My puppy has

had his supper and gone to bed. My rabbits are sleeping, too; and

very soon I shall go to bed. Teacher is writing letters to her

friends. Mother and father and their friends have gone to see a

huge furnace. The furnace is to make iron. The iron ore is found

in the ground; but it cannot be used until it has been brought to

the furnace and melted, and all the dirt taken out, and just the

pure iron left. Then it is all ready to be manufactured into

engines, stoves, kettles and many other things.

Coal is found in the ground, too. Many years ago, before people

came to live on the earth, great trees and tall grasses and huge

ferns and all the beautiful flowers cover the earth. When the

leaves and the trees fell, the water and the soil covered them;

and then more trees grew and fell also, and were buried under

water and soil. After they had all been pressed together for many

thousands of years, the wood grew very hard, like rock, and then

it was all ready for people to burn. Can you see leaves and ferns

and bark on the coal? Men go down into the ground and dig out the

coal, and steam-cars take it to the large cities, and sell it to

people to burn, to make them warm and happy when it is cold out

of doors.

Are you very lonely and sad now? I hope you will come to see me

soon, and stay a long time.

With much love from your little friend

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MISS DELLA BENNETT

Tuscumbia, Ala., Jan. 29, 1889.

My dear Miss Bennett:—I am delighted to write to you this

morning. We have just eaten our breakfast. Mildred is running

about downstairs. I have been reading in my book about

astronomers. Astronomer comes from the Latin word astra, which

means stars; and astronomers are men who study the stars, and

tell us about them. When we are sleeping quietly in our beds,

they are watching the beautiful sky through the telescope. A

telescope is like a very strong eye. The stars are so far away

that people cannot tell much about them, without very excellent

instruments. Do you like to look out of your window, and see

little stars? Teacher says she can see Venus from our window, and

it is a large and beautiful star. The stars are called the

earth's brothers and sisters.

There are a great many instruments besides those which the

astronomers use. A knife is an instrument to cut with. I think

the bell is an instrument, too. I will tell you what I know about

bells.

Some bells are musical and others are unmusical. Some are very

tiny and some are very large. I saw a very large bell at

Wellesley. It came from Japan. Bells are used for many purposes.

They tell us when breakfast is ready, when to go to school, when

it is time for church, and when there is a fire. They tell people

when to go to work, and when to go home and rest. The engine-bell

tells the passengers that they are coming to a station, and it

tells the people to keep out of the way. Sometimes very terrible

accidents happen, and many people are burned and drowned and

injured. The other day I broke my doll's head off; but that was

not a dreadful accident, because dolls do not live and feel, like

people. My little pigeons are well, and so is my little bird. I

would like to have some clay. Teacher says it is time for me to

study now. Good-bye.

With much love, and many kisses,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE

Tuscumbia, Alabama, February 21st, 1889.

My dear Mr. Hale,

I am very much afraid that you are thinking in your mind that

little Helen has forgotten all about you and her dear cousins.

But I think you will be delighted to receive this letter because

then you will know that I of[ten] think about you and I love you

dearly for you are my dear cousin. I have been at home a great

many weeks now. It made me feel very sad to leave Boston and I

missed all of my friends greatly, but of course I was glad to get

back to my lovely home once more. My darling little sister is

growing very fast. Sometimes she tries to spell very short words

on her small [fingers] but she is too young to remember hard

words. When she is older I will teach her many things if she is

patient and obedient. My teacher says, if children learn to be

patient and gentle while they are little, that when they grow to

be young ladies and gentlemen they will not forget to be kind and

loving and brave. I hope I shall be courageous always. A little

girl in a story was not courageous. She thought she saw little

elves with tall pointed [hats] peeping from between the bushes

and dancing down the long alleys, and the poor little girl was

terrified. Did you have a pleasant Christmas? I had many lovely

presents given to me. The other day I had a fine party. All of my

dear little friends came to see me. We played games, and ate

ice-cream and cake and fruit. Then we had great fun. The sun is

shining brightly to-day and I hope we shall go to ride if the

roads are dry. In a few days the beautiful spring will be here. I

am very glad because I love the warm sunshine and the fragrant

flowers. I think Flowers grow to make people happy and good. I

have four dolls now. Cedric is my little boy, he is named for

Lord Fauntleroy. He has big brown eyes and long golden hair and

pretty round cheeks. Ida is my baby. A lady brought her to me

from Paris. She can drink milk like a real baby. Lucy is a fine

young lady. She has on a dainty lace dress and satin slippers.

Poor old Nancy is growing old and very feeble. She is almost an

invalid. I have two tame pigeons and a tiny canary bird. Jumbo is

very strong and faithful. He will not let anything harm us at

night. I go to school every day I am studying reading, writing,

arithmetic, geography and language. My Mother and teacher send

you and Mrs. Hale their kind greetings and Mildred sends you a

kiss.

With much love and kisses, from your

Affectionate cousin

HELEN A. KELLER.

During the winter Miss Sullivan and her pupil were working at

Helen's home in Tuscumbia, and to good purpose, for by spring

Helen had learned to write idiomatic English. After May, 1889, I

find almost no inaccuracies, except some evident slips of the

pencil. She uses words precisely and makes easy, fluent

sentences.

TO MR. MICHAEL ANAGNOS

Tuscumbia, Ala., May 18, 1889.

My Dear Mr. Anagnos:—You cannot imagine how delighted I was to

receive a letter from you last evening. I am very sorry that you

are going so far away. We shall miss you very, very much. I would

love to visit many beautiful cities with you. When I was in

Huntsville I saw Dr. Bryson, and he told me that he had been to

Rome and Athens and Paris and London. He had climbed the high

mountains in Switzerland and visited beautiful churches in Italy

and France, and he saw a great many ancient castles. I hope you

will please write to me from all the cities you visit. When you

go to Holland please give my love to the lovely princess

Wilhelmina. She is a dear little girl, and when she is old enough

she will be the queen of Holland. If you go to Roumania please

ask the good queen Elizabeth about her little invalid brother,

and tell her that I am very sorry that her darling little girl

died. I should like to send a kiss to Vittorio, the little prince

of Naples, but teacher says she is afraid you will not remember

so many messages. When I am thirteen years old I shall visit them

all myself.

I thank you very much for the beautiful story about Lord

Fauntleroy, and so does teacher.

I am so glad that Eva is coming to stay with me this summer. We

will have fine times together. Give Howard my love, and tell him

to answer my letter. Thursday we had a picnic. It was very

pleasant out in the shady woods, and we all enjoyed the picnic

very much.

Mildred is out in the yard playing, and mother is picking the

delicious strawberries. Father and Uncle Frank are down town.

Simpson is coming home soon. Mildred and I had our pictures taken

while we were in Huntsville. I will send you one.

The roses have been beautiful. Mother has a great many fine

roses. The La France and the Lamarque are the most fragrant; but

the Marechal Neil, Solfaterre, Jacqueminot, Nipheots, Etoile de

Lyon, Papa Gontier, Gabrielle Drevet and the Perle des Jardines

are all lovely roses.

Please give the little boys and girls my love. I think of them

every day and I love them dearly in my heart. When you come home

from Europe I hope you will be all well and very happy to get

home again. Do not forget to give my love to Miss Calliope

Kehayia and Mr. Francis Demetrios Kalopothakes.

Lovingly, your little friend,

HELEN ADAMS KELLER.

Like a good many of Helen Keller's early letters, this to her

French teacher is her re-phrasing of a story. It shows how much

the gift of writing is, in the early stages of its development,

the gift of mimicry.

TO MISS FANNIE S. MARRETT

Tuscumbia, Ala., May 17, 1889.

My Dear Miss Marrett—I am thinking about a dear little girl, who

wept very hard. She wept because her brother teased her very

much. I will tell you what he did, and I think you will feel very

sorry for the little child. She had a most beautiful doll given

her. Oh, it was a lovely and delicate doll! but the little girl's

brother, a tall lad, had taken the doll, and set it up in a high

tree in the garden, and had run away. The little girl could not

reach the doll, and could not help it down, and therefore she

cried. The doll cried, too, and stretched out its arms from among

the green branches, and looked distressed. Soon the dismal night

would come—and was the doll to sit up in the tree all night, and

by herself? The little girl could not endure that thought. "I

will stay with you," said she to the doll, although she was not

at all courageous. Already she began to see quite plainly the

little elves in their tall pointed hats, dancing down the dusky

alleys, and peeping from between the bushes, and they seemed to

come nearer and nearer; and she stretched her hands up towards

the tree in which the doll sat and they laughed, and pointed

their fingers at her. How terrified was the little girl; but if

one has not done anything wrong, these strange little elves

cannot harm one. "Have I done anything wrong? Ah, yes!" said the

little girl. "I have laughed at the poor duck, with the red rag

tied round its leg. It hobbled, and that made me laugh; but it is

wrong to laugh at the poor animals!"

Is it not a pitiful story? I hope the father punished the naughty

little boy. Shall you be very glad to see my teacher next

Thursday? She is going home to rest, but she will come back to me

next autumn.

Lovingly, your little friend,

HELEN ADAMS KELLER.

TO MISS MARY E. RILEY

Tuscumbia, Ala., May 27, 1889.

My Dear Miss Riley:—I wish you were here in the warm, sunny

south today. Little sister and I would take you out into the

garden, and pick the delicious raspberries and a few strawberries

for you. How would you like that? The strawberries are nearly all

gone. In the evening, when it is cool and pleasant, we would walk

in the yard, and catch the grasshoppers and butterflies. We would

talk about the birds and flowers and grass and Jumbo and Pearl.

If you liked, we would run and jump and hop and dance, and be

very happy. I think you would enjoy hearing the mocking-birds

sing. One sits on the twig of a tree, just beneath our window,

and he fills the air with his glad songs. But I am afraid you

cannot come to Tuscumbia; so I will write to you, and send you a

sweet kiss and my love. How is Dick? Daisy is happy, but she

would be happy ever if she had a little mate. My little children

are all well except Nancy, and she is quite feeble. My

grandmother and aunt Corinne are here. Grandmother is going to

make me two new dresses. Give my love to all the little girls,

and tell them that Helen loves them very, very much. Eva sends

love to all.

With much love and many kisses, from your affectionate little

friend,

HELEN ADAMS KELLER.

During the summer Miss Sullivan was away from Helen for three

months and a half, the first separation of teacher and pupil.

Only once afterward in fifteen years was their constant

companionship broken for more than a few days at a time.

TO MISS ANNE MANSFIELD SULLIVAN

Tuscumbia, Ala., August 7, 1889.

Dearest Teacher—I am very glad to write to you this evening, for

I have been thinking much about you all day. I am sitting on the

piazza, and my little white pigeon is perched on the back of my

chair, watching me write. Her little brown mate has flown away

with the other birds; but Annie is not sad, for she likes to stay

with me. Fauntleroy is asleep upstairs, and Nancy is putting Lucy

to bed. Perhaps the mocking bird is singing them to sleep. All

the beautiful flowers are in bloom now. The air is sweet with the

perfume of jasmines, heliotropes and roses. It is getting warm

here now, so father is going to take us to the Quarry on the 20th

of August. I think we shall have a beautiful time out in the

cool, pleasant woods. I will write and tell you all the pleasant

things we do. I am so glad that Lester and Henry are good little

infants. Give them many sweet kisses for me.

What was the name of the little boy who fell in love with the

beautiful star? Eva has been telling me a story about a lovely

little girl named Heidi. Will you please send it to me? I shall

be delighted to have a typewriter.

Little Arthur is growing very fast. He has on short dresses now.

Cousin Leila thinks he will walk in a little while. Then I will

take his soft chubby hand in mine, and go out in the bright

sunshine with him. He will pull the largest roses, and chase the

gayest butterflies. I will take very good care of him, and not

let him fall and hurt himself. Father and some other gentlemen

went hunting yesterday. Father killed thirty-eight birds. We had

some of them for supper, and they were very nice. Last Monday

Simpson shot a pretty crane. The crane is a large and strong

bird. His wings are as long as my arm, and his bill is as long as

my foot. He eats little fishes, and other small animals. Father

says he can fly nearly all day without stopping.

Mildred is the dearest and sweetest little maiden in the world.

She is very roguish, too. Sometimes, when mother does not know

it, she goes out into the vineyard, and gets her apron full of

delicious grapes. I think she would like to put her two soft arms

around your neck and hug you.

Sunday I went to church. I love to go to church, because I like

to see my friends.

A gentleman gave me a beautiful card. It was a picture of a mill,

near a beautiful brook. There was a boat floating on the water,

and the fragrant lilies were growing all around the boat. Not far

from the mill there was an old house, with many trees growing

close to it. There were eight pigeons on the roof of the house,

and a great dog on the step. Pearl is a very proud mother-dog

now. She has eight puppies, and she thinks there never were such

fine puppies as hers.

I read in my books every day. I love them very, very, very much.

I do want you to come back to me soon. I miss you so very, very

much. I cannot know about many things, when my dear teacher is

not here. I send you five thousand kisses, and more love than I

can tell. I send Mrs. H. much love and a kiss.

From your affectionate little pupil,

HELEN A. KELLER.

In the fall Helen and Miss Sullivan returned to Perkins

Institution at South Boston.

TO MISS MILDRED KELLER

South Boston, Oct. 24, 1889.

My Precious Little Sister:—Good morning. I am going to send you

a birthday gift with this letter. I hope it will please you very

much, because it makes me happy to send it. The dress is blue

like your eyes, and candy is sweet just like your dear little

self. I think mother will be glad to make the dress for you, and

when you wear it you will look as pretty as a rose. The

picture-book will tell you all about many strange and wild

animals. You must not be afraid of them. They cannot come out of

the picture to harm you.

I go to school every day, and I learn many new things. At eight I

study arithmetic. I like that. At nine I go to the gymnasium with

the little girls and we have great fun. I wish you could be here

to play three little squirrels, and two gentle doves, and to make

a pretty nest for a dear little robin. The mocking bird does not

live in the cold north. At ten I study about the earth on which

we all live. At eleven I talk with teacher and at twelve I study

zoology. I do not know what I shall do in the afternoon yet.

Now, my darling little Mildred, good bye. Give father and mother

a great deal of love and many hugs and kisses for me. Teacher

sends her love too.

From your loving sister,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MR. WILLIAM WADE

South Boston, Mass., Nov. 20, 1889.

My Dear Mr. Wade:—I have just received a letter from my mother,

telling me that the beautiful mastiff puppy you sent me had

arrived in Tuscumbia safely. Thank you very much for the nice

gift. I am very sorry that I was not at home to welcome her; but

my mother and my baby sister will be very kind to her while her

mistress is away. I hope she is not lonely and unhappy. I think

puppies can feel very home-sick, as well as little girls. I

should like to call her Lioness, for your dog. May I? I hope she

will be very faithful,—and brave, too.

I am studying in Boston, with my dear teacher. I learn a great

many new and wonderful things. I study about the earth, and the

animals, and I like arithmetic exceedingly. I learn many new

words, too. EXCEEDINGLY is one that I learned yesterday. When I

see Lioness I will tell her many things which will surprise her

greatly. I think she will laugh when I tell her she is a

vertebrate, a mammal, a quadruped; and I shall be very sorry to

tell her that she belongs to the order Carnivora. I study French,

too. When I talk French to Lioness I will call her mon beau

chien. Please tell Lion that I will take good care of Lioness. I

shall be happy to have a letter from you when you like to write

to me.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

P.S. I am studying at the Institution for the Blind.

H. A. K.

This letter is indorsed in Whittier's hand, "Helen A.

Keller—deaf dumb and blind—aged nine years." "Browns" is a

lapse of the pencil for "brown eyes."

TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

Inst. for the Blind, So. Boston, Mass.,

Nov. 27, 1889.

Dear Poet,

I think you will be surprised to receive a letter from a little

girl whom you do not know, but I thought you would be glad to

hear that your beautiful poems make me very happy. Yesterday I

read "In School Days" and "My Playmate," and I enjoyed them

greatly. I was very sorry that the poor little girl with the

browns and the "tangled golden curls" died. It is very pleasant

to live here in our beautiful world. I cannot see the lovely

things with my eyes, but my mind can see them all, and so I am

joyful all the day long.

When I walk out in my garden I cannot see the beautiful flowers

but I know that they are all around me; for is not the air sweet

with their fragrance? I know too that the tiny lily-bells are

whispering pretty secrets to their companions else they would not

look so happy. I love you very dearly, because you have taught me

so many lovely things about flowers, and birds, and people. Now I

must say, good-bye. I hope [you] will enjoy the Thanksgiving very

much.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

To Mr. John Greenleaf Whittier.

Whittier's reply, to which there is a reference in the following

letter, has been lost.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

South Boston, Mass., Dec. 3, 1889.

My Dear Mother:—Your little daughter is very happy to write to

you this beautiful morning. It is cold and rainy here to-day.

Yesterday the Countess of Meath came again to see me. She gave me

a beautiful bunch of violets. Her little girls are named Violet

and May. The Earl said he should be delighted to visit Tuscumbia

the next time he comes to America. Lady Meath said she would like

to see your flowers, and hear the mocking-birds sing. When I

visit England they want me to come to see them, and stay a few

weeks. They will take me to see the Queen.

I had a lovely letter from the poet Whittier. He loves me. Mr.

Wade wants teacher and me to come and see him next spring. May we

go? He said you must feed Lioness from your hand, because she

will be more gentle if she does not eat with other dogs.

Mr. Wilson came to call on us one Thursday. I was delighted to

receive the flowers from home. They came while we were eating

breakfast, and my friends enjoyed them with me. We had a very

nice dinner on Thanksgiving day,—turkey and plum-pudding. Last

week I visited a beautiful art store. I saw a great many statues,

and the gentleman gave me an angel.

Sunday I went to church on board a great warship. After the

services were over the soldier-sailors showed us around. There

were four hundred and sixty sailors. They were very kind to me.

One carried me in his arms so that my feet would not touch the

water. They wore blue uniforms and queer little caps. There was a

terrible fire Thursday. Many stores were burned, and four men

were killed. I am very sorry for them. Tell father, please, to

write to me. How is dear little sister? Give her many kisses for

me. Now I must close. With much love, from your darling child,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

So. Boston, Mass., Dec. 24, 1889

My dear Mother,

Yesterday I sent you a little Christmas box. I am very sorry that

I could not send it before so that you would receive it tomorrow,

but I could not finish the watch-case any sooner. I made all of

the gifts myself, excepting father's handkerchief. I wish I could

have made father a gift too, but I did not have sufficient time.

I hope you will like your watch-case, for it made me very happy

to make it for you. You must keep your lovely new montre in it.

If it is too warm in Tuscumbia for little sister to wear her

pretty mittens, she can keep them because her sister made them

for her. I imagine she will have fun with the little toy man.

Tell her to shake him, and then he will blow his trumpet. I thank

my dear kind father for sending me some money, to buy gifts for

my friends. I love to make everybody happy. I should like to be

at home on Christmas day. We would be very happy together. I

think of my beautiful home every day. Please do not forget to

send me some pretty presents to hang on my tree. I am going to

have a Christmas tree, in the parlor and teacher will hang all of

my gifts upon it. It will be a funny tree. All of the girls have

gone home to spend Christmas. Teacher and I are the only babies

left for Mrs. Hopkins to care for. Teacher has been sick in bed

for many days. Her throat was very sore and the doctor thought

she would have to go away to the hospital, but she is better now.

I have not been sick at all. The little girls are well too.

Friday I am going to spend the day with my little friends Carrie,

Ethel, Frank and Helen Freeman. We will have great fun I am sure.

Mr. and Miss Endicott came to see me, and I went to ride in the

carriage. They are going to give me a lovely present, but I

cannot guess what it will be. Sammy has a dear new brother. He is

very soft and delicate yet. Mr. Anagnos is in Athens now. He is

delighted because I am here. Now I must say, good-bye. I hope I

have written my letter nicely, but it is very difficult to write

on this paper and teacher is not here to give me better. Give

many kisses to little sister and much love to all. Lovingly

HELEN.

TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE

South Boston, Jan. 8, 1890.

My dear Mr. Hale:

The beautiful shells came last night. I thank you very much for

them. I shall always keep them, and it will make me very happy to

think that you found them, on that far away island, from which

Columbus sailed to discover our dear country. When I am eleven

years old it will be four hundred years since he started with the

three small ships to cross the great strange ocean. He was very

brave. The little girls were delighted to see the lovely shells.

I told them all I knew about them. Are you very glad that you

could make so many happy? I am. 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. Hale and a

sweet kiss for yourself,

From your little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

This, the first of Helen's letters to Dr. Holmes, written soon

after a visit to him, he published in "Over the Teacups."

[Atlantic Monthly, May, 1890]

TO DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

South Boston, Mass., March 1, 1890.

Dear, Kind Poet:—I have thought of you many times since that

bright Sunday when I bade you good-bye; and I am going to write

you a letter, because I love you. I am sorry that you have no

little children to play with you sometimes; but I think you are

very happy with your books, and your many, many friends. On

Washington's birthday a great many people came here to see the

blind children; and I read for them from your poems, and showed

them some beautiful shells, which came from a little island near

Palos.

I am reading a very sad story, called "Little Jakey." Jakey was

the sweetest little fellow you can imagine, but he was poor and

blind. I used to think—when I was small, and before I could

read—that everybody was always happy, and at first it made me

very sad to know about pain and great sorrow; but now I know that

we could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only

joy in the world.

I am studying about insects in zoology, and I have learned many

things about butterflies. They do not make honey for us, like the

bees, but many of them are as beautiful as the flowers they light

upon, and they always delight the hearts of little children. They

live a gay life, flitting from flower to flower, sipping the

drops of honeydew, without a thought for the morrow. They are

just like little boys and girls when they forget books and

studies, and run away to the woods and the fields, to gather wild

flowers, or wade in the ponds for fragrant lilies, happy in the

bright sunshine.

If my little sister comes to Boston next June, will you let me

bring her to see you? She is a lovely baby, and I am sure you

will love her.

Now I must tell my gentle poet good-bye, for I have a letter to

write home before I go to bed.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MISS SARAH FULLER [Miss Fuller gave Helen Keller her first

lesson in articulation. See Chapter IV, Speech.]

South Boston, Mass., April 3, 1890.

My dear Miss Fuller,

My heart is full of joy this beautiful morning, because I have

learned to speak many new words, and I can make a few sentences.

Last evening I went out in the yard and spoke to the moon. I

said, "O! moon come to me!" Do you think the lovely moon was glad

that I could speak to her? How glad my mother will be. I can

hardly wait for June to come I am so eager to speak to her and to

my precious little sister. Mildred could not understand me when I

spelled with my fingers, but now she will sit in my lap and I

will tell her many things to please her, and we shall be so happy

together. Are you very, very happy because you can make so many

people happy? I think you are very kind and patient, and I love

you very dearly. My teacher told me Tuesday that you wanted to

know how I came to wish to talk with my mouth. I will tell you

all about it, for I remember my thoughts perfectly. When I was a

very little child I used to sit in my mother's lap all the time,

because I was very timid, and did not like to be left by myself.

And I would keep my little hand on her face all the while,

because it amused me to feel her face and lips move when she

talked with people. I did not know then what she was doing, for I

was quite ignorant of all things. Then when I was older I learned

to play with my nurse and the little negro children and I noticed

that they kept moving their lips just like my mother, so I moved

mine too, but sometimes it made me angry and I would hold my

playmates' mouths very hard. I did not know then that it was very

naughty to do so. After a long time my dear teacher came to me,

and taught me to communicate with my fingers and I was satisfied

and happy. But when I came to school in Boston I met some deaf

people who talked with their mouths like all other people, and

one day a lady who had been to Norway came to see me, and told me

of a blind and deaf girl [Ragnhild Kaata] she had seen in that

far away land who had been taught to speak and understand others

when they spoke to her. This good and happy news delighted me

exceedingly, for then I was sure that I should learn also. I

tried to make sounds like my little playmates, but teacher told

me that the voice was very delicate and sensitive and that it

would injure it to make incorrect sounds, and promised to take me

to see a kind and wise lady who would teach me rightly. That lady

was yourself. Now I am as happy as the little birds, because I

can speak and perhaps I shall sing too. All of my friends will be

so surprised and glad.

Your loving little pupil,

HELEN A. KELLER.

When the Perkins Institution closed for the summer, Helen and

Miss Sullivan went to Tuscumbia. This was the first home-going

after she had learned to "talk with her mouth."

TO REV. PHILLIPS BROOKS

Tuscumbia, Alabama, July 14, 1890.

My dear Mr. Brooks, I am very glad to write to you this beautiful

day because you are my kind friend and I love you, and because I

wish to know many things. I have been at home three weeks, and

Oh, how happy I have been with dear mother and father and

precious little sister. I was very, very sad to part with all of

my friends in Boston, but I was so eager to see my baby sister I

could hardly wait for the train to take me home. But I tried very

hard to be patient for teacher's sake. Mildred has grown much

taller and stronger than she was when I went to Boston, and she

is the sweetest and dearest little child in the world. My parents

were delighted to hear me speak, and I was overjoyed to give them

such a happy surprise. I think it is so pleasant to make

everybody happy. Why does the dear Father in heaven think it best

for us to have very great sorrow sometimes? I am always happy and

so was Little Lord Fauntleroy, but dear Little Jakey's life was

full of sadness. God did not put the light in Jakey's eyes and he

was blind, and his father was not gentle and loving. Do you think

poor Jakey loved his Father in heaven more because his other

father was unkind to him? How did God tell people that his home

was in heaven? When people do very wrong and hurt animals and

treat children unkindly God is grieved, but what will he do to

them to teach them to be pitiful and loving? I think he will tell

them how dearly He loves them and that He wants them to be good

and happy, and they will not wish to grieve their father who

loves them so much, and they will want to please him in

everything they do, so they will love each other and do good to

everyone, and be kind to animals.

Please tell me something that you know about God. It makes me

happy to know much about my loving Father, who is good and wise.

I hope you will write to your little friend when you have time. I

should like very much to see you to-day Is the sun very hot in

Boston now? this afternoon if it is cool enough I shall take

Mildred for a ride on my donkey. Mr. Wade sent Neddy to me, and

he is the prettiest donkey you can imagine. My great dog Lioness

goes with us when we ride to protect us. Simpson, that is my

brother, brought me some beautiful pond lilies yesterday—he is a

very brother to me.

Teacher sends you her kind remembrances, and father and mother

also send their regards.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

DR. BROOKS'S REPLY

London, August 3, 1890.

My Dear Helen—I was very glad indeed to get your letter. It has

followed me across the ocean and found me in this magnificent

great city which I should like to tell you all about if I could

take time for it and make my letter long enough. Some time when

you come and see me in my study in Boston I shall be glad to talk

to you about it all if you care to hear.

But now I want to tell you how glad I am that you are so happy

and enjoying your home so very much. I can almost think I see you

with your father and mother and little sister, with all the

brightness of the beautiful country about you, and it makes me

very glad to know how glad you are.

I am glad also to know, from the questions which you ask me, what

you are thinking about. I do not see how we can help thinking

about God when He is so good to us all the time. Let me tell you

how it seems to me that we come to know about our heavenly

Father. It is from the power of love which is in our own hearts.

Love is at the soul of everything. Whatever has not the power of

loving must have a very dreary life indeed. We like to think that

the sunshine and the winds and the trees are able to love in some

way of their own, for it would make us know that they were happy

if we knew that they could love. And so God who is the greatest

and happiest of all beings is the most loving too. All the love

that is in our hearts comes from him, as all the light which is

in the flowers comes from the sun. And the more we love the more

near we are to God and His Love.

I told you that I was very happy because of your happiness.

Indeed I am. So are your Father and your Mother and your Teacher

and all your friends. But do you not think that God is happy too

because you are happy? I am sure He is. And He is happier than

any of us because He is greater than any of us, and also because

He not merely SEES your happiness as we do, but He also MADE it.

He gives it to you as the sun gives light and color to the rose.

And we are always most glad of what we not merely see our friends

enjoy, but of what we give them to enjoy. Are we not?

But God does not only want us to be HAPPY; He wants us to be

good. He wants that most of all. He knows that we can be really

happy only when we are good. A great deal of the trouble that is

in the world is medicine which is very bad to take, but which it

is good to take because it makes us better. We see how good

people may be in great trouble when we think of Jesus who was the

greatest sufferer that ever lived and yet was the best Being and

so, I am sure, the happiest Being that the world has ever seen.

I love to tell you about God. But He will tell you Himself by the

love which He will put into your heart if you ask Him. And Jesus,

who is His Son, but is nearer to Him than all of us His other

Children, came into the world on purpose to tell us all about our

Father's Love. If you read His words, you will see how full His

heart is of the love of God. "We KNOW that He loves us," He says.

And so He loved men Himself and though they were very cruel to

Him and at last killed Him, He was willing to die for them

because He loved them so. And, Helen, He loves men still, and He

loves us, and He tells us that we may love Him.

And so love is everything. And if anybody asks you, or if you ask

yourself what God is, answer, "God is Love." That is the

beautiful answer which the Bible gives.

All this is what you are to think of and to understand more and

more as you grow older. Think of it now, and let it make every

blessing brighter because your dear Father sends it to you.

You will come back to Boston I hope soon after I do. I shall be

there by the middle of September. I shall want you to tell me all

about everything, and not forget the Donkey.

I send my kind remembrance to your father and mother, and to your

teacher. I wish I could see your little sister.

Good Bye, dear Helen. Do write to me soon again, directing your

letter to Boston.

Your affectionate friend

PHILLIPS BROOKS.

DR. HOLMES'S REPLY

To a letter which has been lost.

Beverly Farms, Mass., August 1, 1890.

My Dear Little Friend Helen:

I received your welcome letter several days ago, but I have so

much writing to do that I am apt to make my letters wait a good

while before they get answered.

It gratifies me very much to find that you remember me so kindly.

Your letter is charming, and I am greatly pleased with it. I

rejoice to know that you are well and happy. I am very much

delighted to hear of your new acquisition—that you "talk with

your mouth" as well as with your fingers. What a curious thing

SPEECH is! The tongue is so serviceable a member (taking all

sorts of shapes, just as is wanted),—the teeth, the lips, the

roof of the mouth, all ready to help, and so heap up the sound of

the voice into the solid bits which we call consonants, and make

room for the curiously shaped breathings which we call vowels!

You have studied all this, I don't doubt, since you have

practised vocal speaking.

I am surprised at the mastery of language which your letter

shows. It almost makes me think the world would get along as well

without seeing and hearing as with them. Perhaps people would be

better in a great many ways, for they could not fight as they do

now. Just think of an army of blind people, with guns and cannon!

Think of the poor drummers! Of what use would they and their

drumsticks be? You are spared the pain of many sights and sounds,

which you are only too happy in escaping. Then think how much

kindness you are sure of as long as you live. Everybody will feel

an interest in dear little Helen; everybody will want to do

something for her; and, if she becomes an ancient, gray-haired

woman, she is still sure of being thoughtfully cared for.

Your parents and friends must take great satisfaction in your

progress. It does great credit, not only to you, but to your

instructors, who have so broken down the walls that seemed to

shut you in that now your outlook seems more bright and cheerful

than that of many seeing and hearing children.

Good-bye, dear little Helen! With every kind wish from your

friend,

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

This letter was written to some gentlemen in Gardiner, Maine, who

named a lumber vessel after her.

TO MESSRS. BRADSTREET

Tuscumbia, Ala., July 14, 1890.

My Dear, Kind Friends:—I thank you very, very much for naming

your beautiful new ship for me. It makes me very happy to know

that I have kind and loving friends in the far-away State of

Maine. I did not imagine, when I studied about the forests of

Maine, that a strong and beautiful ship would go sailing all over

the world, carrying wood from those rich forests, to build

pleasant homes and schools and churches in distant countries. I

hope the great ocean will love the new Helen, and let her sail

over its blue waves peacefully. Please tell the brave sailors,

who have charge of the HELEN KELLER, that little Helen who stays

at home will often think of them with loving thoughts. I hope I

shall see you and my beautiful namesake some time.

With much love, from your little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

To the Messrs. Bradstreet.

Helen and Miss Sullivan returned to the Perkins Institution early

in November.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

South Boston, Nov. 10, 1890.

My Dearest Mother:—My heart has been full of thoughts of you and

my beautiful home ever since we parted so sadly on Wednesday

night. How I wish I could see you this lovely morning, and tell

you all that has happened since I left home! And my darling

little sister, how I wish I could give her a hundred kisses! And

my dear father, how he would like to hear about our journey! But

I cannot see you and talk to you, so I will write and tell you

all that I can think of.

We did not reach Boston until Saturday morning. I am sorry to say

that our train was delayed in several places, which made us late

in reaching New York. When we got to Jersey City at six o'clock

Friday evening we were obliged to cross the Harlem River in a

ferry-boat. We found the boat and the transfer carriage with much

less difficulty than teacher expected. When we arrived at the

station they told us that the train did not leave for Boston

until eleven o'clock, but that we could take the sleeper at nine,

which we did. We went to bed and slept until morning. When we

awoke we were in Boston. I was delighted to get there, though I

was much disappointed because we did not arrive on Mr. Anagnos'

birthday. We surprised our dear friends, however, for they did

not expect us Saturday; but when the bell rung Miss Marrett

guessed who was at the door, and Mrs. Hopkins jumped up from the

breakfast table and ran to the door to meet us; she was indeed

much astonished to see us. After we had had some breakfast we

went up to see Mr. Anagnos. I was overjoyed to see my dearest and

kindest friend once more. He gave me a beautiful watch. I have it

pinned to my dress. I tell everybody the time when they ask me. I

have only seen Mr. Anagnos twice. I have many questions to ask

him about the countries he has been travelling in. But I suppose

he is very busy now.

The hills in Virginia were very lovely. Jack Frost had dressed

them in gold and crimson. The view was most charmingly

picturesque. Pennsylvania is a very beautiful State. The grass

was as green as though it was springtime, and the golden ears of

corn gathered together in heaps in the great fields looked very

pretty. In Harrisburg we saw a donkey like Neddy. How I wish I

could see my own donkey and my dear Lioness! Do they miss their

mistress very much? Tell Mildred she must be kind to them for my

sake.

Our room is pleasant and comfortable.

My typewriter was much injured coming. The case was broken and

the keys are nearly all out. Teacher is going to see if it can be

fixed.

There are many new books in the library. What a nice time I shall

have reading them! I have already read Sara Crewe. It is a very

pretty story, and I will tell it to you some time. Now, sweet

mother, your little girl must say good-bye.

With much love to father, Mildred, you and all the dear friends,

lovingly your little daughter,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

South Boston, Dec. 17, 1890.

Dear Kind Poet,

This is your birthday; that was the first thought which came into

my mind when I awoke this morning; and it made me glad to think I

could write you a letter and tell you how much your little

friends love their sweet poet and his birthday. This evening they

are going to entertain their friends with readings from your

poems and music. I hope the swift winged messengers of love will

be here to carry some of the sweet melody to you, in your little

study by the Merrimac. At first I was very sorry when I found

that the sun had hidden his shining face behind dull clouds, but

afterwards I thought why he did it, and then I was happy. The sun

knows that you like to see the world covered with beautiful white

snow and so he kept back all his brightness, and let the little

crystals form in the sky. When they are ready, they will softly

fall and tenderly cover every object. Then the sun will appear in

all his radiance and fill the world with light. If I were with

you to-day I would give you eighty-three kisses, one for each

year you have lived. Eighty-three years seems very long to me.

Does it seem long to you? I wonder how many years there will be

in eternity. I am afraid I cannot think about so much time. I

received the letter which you wrote to me last summer, and I

thank you for it. I am staying in Boston now at the Institution

for the Blind, but I have not commenced my studies yet, because

my dearest friend, Mr. Anagnos wants me to rest and play a great

deal.

Teacher is well and sends her kind remembrance to you. The happy

Christmas time is almost here! I can hardly wait for the fun to

begin! I hope your Christmas Day will be a very happy one and

that the New Year will be full of brightness and joy for you and

every one.

From your little friend

HELEN A. KELLER.

WHITTIER'S REPLY

My Dear Young Friend—I was very glad to have such a pleasant

letter on my birthday. I had two or three hundred others and

thine was one of the most welcome of all. I must tell thee about

how the day passed at Oak Knoll. Of course the sun did not shine,

but we had great open wood fires in the rooms, which were all

very sweet with roses and other flowers, which were sent to me

from distant friends; and fruits of all kinds from California and

other places. Some relatives and dear old friends were with me

through the day. I do not wonder thee thinks eighty three years a

long time, but to me it seems but a very little while since I was

a boy no older than thee, playing on the old farm at Haverhill. I

thank thee for all thy good wishes, and wish thee as many. I am

glad thee is at the Institution; it is an excellent place. Give

my best regards to Miss Sullivan, and with a great deal of love I

am

Thy old friend,

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Tommy Stringer, who appears in several of the following letters,

became blind and deaf when he was four years old. His mother was

dead and his father was too poor to take care of him. For a while

he was kept in the general hospital at Allegheny. From here he

was to be sent to an almshouse, for at that time there was no

other place for him in Pennsylvania. Helen heard of him through

Mr. J. G. Brown of Pittsburgh, who wrote her that he had failed

to secure a tutor for Tommy. She wanted him brought to Boston,

and when she was told that money would be needed to get him a

teacher, she answered, "We will raise it." She began to solicit

contributions from her friends, and saved her pennies.

Dr. Alexander Graham Bell advised Tommy's friends to send him to

Boston, and the trustees of the Perkins Institution agreed to

admit him to the kindergarten for the blind.

Meanwhile opportunity came to Helen to make a considerable

contribution to Tommy's education. The winter before, her dog

Lioness had been killed, and friends set to work to raise money

to buy Helen another dog. Helen asked that the contributions,

which people were sending from all over America and England, be

devoted to Tommy's education. Turned to this new use, the fund

grew fast, and Tommy was provided for. He was admitted to the

kindergarten on the sixth of April.

Miss Keller wrote lately, "I shall never forget the pennies sent

by many a poor child who could ill spare them, 'for little

Tommy,' or the swift sympathy with which people from far and

near, whom I had never seen, responded to the dumb cry of a

little captive soul for aid."

TO MR. GEORGE R. KREHL

Institution for the Blind,

South Boston, Mass., March 20, 1891.

My Dear Friend, Mr. Krehl:—I have just heard, through Mr. Wade,

of your kind offer to buy me a gentle dog, and I want to thank

you for the kind thought. It makes me very happy indeed to know

that I have such dear friends in other lands. It makes me think

that all people are good and loving. I have read that the English

and Americans are cousins; but I am sure it would be much truer

to say that we are brothers and sisters. My friends have told me

about your great and magnificent city, and I have read a great

deal that wise Englishmen have written. I have begun to read

"Enoch Arden," and I know several of the great poet's poems by

heart. I am eager to cross the ocean, for I want to see my

English friends and their good and wise queen. Once the Earl of

Meath came to see me, and he told me that the queen was much

beloved by her people, because of her gentleness and wisdom. Some

day you will be surprised to see a little strange girl coming

into your office; but when you know it is the little girl who

loves dogs and all other animals, you will laugh, and I hope you

will give her a kiss, just as Mr. Wade does. He has another dog

for me, and he thinks she will be as brave and faithful as my

beautiful Lioness. And now I want to tell you what the dog lovers

in America are going to do. They are going to send me some money

for a poor little deaf and dumb and blind child. His name is

Tommy, and he is five years old. His parents are too poor to pay

to have the little fellow sent to school; so, instead of giving

me a dog, the gentlemen are going to help make Tommy's life as

bright and joyous as mine. Is it not a beautiful plan? Education

will bring light and music into Tommy's soul, and then he cannot

help being happy.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

[South Boston, Mass., April, 1891.]

Dear Dr. Holmes:—Your beautiful words about spring have been

making music in my heart, these bright April days. I love every

word of "Spring" and "Spring Has Come." I think you will be glad

to hear that these poems have taught me to enjoy and love the

beautiful springtime, even though I cannot see the fair, frail

blossoms which proclaim its approach, or hear the joyous warbling

of the home-coming birds. But when I read "Spring Has Come," lo!

I am not blind any longer, for I see with your eyes and hear with

your ears. Sweet Mother Nature can have no secrets from me when

my poet is near. I have chosen this paper because I want the

spray of violets in the corner to tell you of my grateful love. I

want you to see baby Tom, the little blind and deaf and dumb

child who has just come to our pretty garden. He is poor and

helpless and lonely now, but before another April education will

have brought light and gladness into Tommy's life. If you do

come, you will want to ask the kind people of Boston to help

brighten Tommy's whole life. Your loving friend,

HELEN KELLER.

TO SIR JOHN EVERETT MILLAIS

Perkins Institution for the Blind,

South Boston, Mass., April 30, 1891.

My Dear Mr. Millais:—Your little American sister is going to

write you a letter, because she wants you to know how pleased she

was to hear you were interested in our poor little Tommy, and had

sent some money to help educate him. It is very beautiful to

think that people far away in England feel sorry for a little

helpless child in America. I used to think, when I read in my

books about your great city, that when I visited it the people

would be strangers to me, but now I feel differently. It seems to

me that all people who have loving, pitying hearts, are not

strangers to each other. I can hardly wait patiently for the time

to come when I shall see my dear English friends, and their

beautiful island home. My favourite poet has written some lines

about England which I love very much. I think you will like them

too, so I will try to write them for you.

"Hugged in the clinging billow's clasp,

From seaweed fringe to mountain heather,

The British oak with rooted grasp

Her slender handful holds together,

With cliffs of white and bowers of green,

And ocean narrowing to caress her,

And hills and threaded streams between,

Our little mother isle, God bless her!"

You will be glad to hear that Tommy has a kind lady to teach him,

and that he is a pretty, active little fellow. He loves to climb

much better than to spell, but that is because he does not know

yet what a wonderful thing language is. He cannot imagine how

very, very happy he will be when he can tell us his thoughts, and

we can tell him how we have loved him so long.

Tomorrow April will hide her tears and blushes beneath the

flowers of lovely May. I wonder if the May-days in England are as

beautiful as they are here.

Now I must say good-bye. Please think of me always as your loving

little sister,

HELEN KELLER.

TO REV. PHILLIPS BROOKS

So. Boston, May 1, 1891.

My Dear Mr. Brooks:

Helen sends you a loving greeting this bright May-day. My teacher

has just told me that you have been made a bishop, and that your

friends everywhere are rejoicing because one whom they love has

been greatly honored. I do not understand very well what a

bishop's work is, but I am sure it must be good and helpful, and

I am glad that my dear friend is brave, and wise, and loving

enough to do it. It is very beautiful to think that you can tell

so many people of the heavenly Father's tender love for all His

children even when they are not gentle and noble as He wishes

them to be. I hope the glad news which you will tell them will

make their hearts beat fast with joy and love. I hope too, that

Bishop Brooks' whole life will be as rich in happiness as the

month of May is full of blossoms and singing birds.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN KELLER.

Before a teacher was found for Tommy and while he was still in

the care of Helen and Miss Sullivan, a reception was held for him

at the kindergarten. At Helen's request Bishop Brooks made an

address. Helen wrote letters to the newspapers which brought many

generous replies. All of these she answered herself, and she made

public acknowledgment in letters to the newspapers. This letter

is to the editor of the Boston Herald, enclosing a complete list

of the subscribers. The contributions amounted to more than

sixteen hundred dollars.

TO MR. JOHN H. HOLMES

South Boston, May 13, 1891.

Editor of the Boston Herald:

My Dear Mr. Holmes:—Will you kindly print in the Herald, the

enclosed list? I think the readers of your paper will be glad to

know that so much has been done for dear little Tommy, and that

they will all wish to share in the pleasure of helping him. He is

very happy indeed at the kindergarten, and is learning something

every day. He has found out that doors have locks, and that

little sticks and bits of paper can be got into the key-hole

quite easily; but he does not seem very eager to get them out

after they are in. He loves to climb the bed-posts and unscrew

the steam valves much better than to spell, but that is because

he does not understand that words would help him to make new and

interesting discoveries. I hope that good people will continue to

work for Tommy until his fund is completed, and education has

brought light and music into his little life.

From your little friend,

HELEN KELLER.

TO DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

South Boston, May 27, 1891.

Dear, Gentle Poet:—I fear that you will think Helen a very

troublesome little girl if she writes to you too often; but how

is she to help sending you loving and grateful messages, when you

do so much to make her glad? I cannot begin to tell you how

delighted I was when Mr. Anagnos told me that you had sent him

some money to help educate "Baby Tom." Then I knew that you had

not forgotten the dear little child, for the gift brought with it

the thought of tender sympathy. I am very sorry to say that Tommy

has not learned any words yet. He is the same restless little

creature he was when you saw him. But it is pleasant to think

that he is happy and playful in his bright new home, and by and

by that strange, wonderful thing teacher calls MIND, will begin

to spread its beautiful wings and fly away in search of

knowledge-land. Words are the mind's wings, are they not?

I have been to Andover since I saw you, and I was greatly

interested in all that my friends told me about Phillips Academy,

because I knew you had been there, and I felt it was a place dear

to you. I tried to imagine my gentle poet when he was a

school-boy, and I wondered if it was in Andover he learned the

songs of the birds and the secrets of the shy little woodland

children. I am sure his heart was always full of music, and in

God's beautiful world he must have heard love's sweet replying.

When I came home teacher read to me "The School-boy," for it is

not in our print.

Did you know that the blind children are going to have their

commencement exercises in Tremont Temple, next Tuesday afternoon?

I enclose a ticket, hoping that you will come. We shall all be

proud and happy to welcome our poet friend. I shall recite about

the beautiful cities of sunny Italy. I hope our kind friend Dr.

Ellis will come too, and take Tom in his arms.

With much love and a kiss, from your little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO REV. PHILLIPS BROOKS

South Boston, June 8, 1891.

My dear Mr. Brooks,

I send you my picture as I promised, and I hope when you look at

it this summer your thoughts will fly southward to your happy

little friend. I used to wish that I could see pictures with my

hands as I do statues, but now I do not often think about it

because my dear Father has filled my mind with beautiful

pictures, even of things I cannot see. If the light were not in

your eyes, dear Mr. Brooks, you would understand better how happy

your little Helen was when her teacher explained to her that the

best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen nor

even touched, but just felt in the heart. Every day I find out

something which makes me glad. Yesterday I thought for the first

time what a beautiful thing motion was, and it seemed to me that

everything was trying to get near to God, does it seem that way

to you? It is Sunday morning, and while I sit here in the library

writing this letter you are teaching hundreds of people some of

the grand and beautiful things about their heavenly Father. Are

you not very, very happy? and when you are a Bishop you will

preach to more people and more and more will be made glad.

Teacher sends her kind remembrances, and I send you with my

picture my dear love.

From your little friend

HELEN KELLER.

When the Perkins Institution closed in June, Helen and her

teacher went south to Tuscumbia, where they remained until

December. There is a hiatus of several months in the letters,

caused by the depressing effect on Helen and Miss Sullivan of the

"Frost King" episode. At the time this trouble seemed very grave

and brought them much unhappiness. An analysis of the case has

been made elsewhere, and Miss Keller has written her account of

it.

TO MR. ALBERT H. MUNSELL

Brewster, Mar. 10, 1892.

My dear Mr. Munsell,

Surely I need not tell you that your letter was very welcome. I

enjoyed every word of it and wished that it was longer. I laughed

when you spoke of old Neptune's wild moods. He has, in truth,

behaved very strangely ever since we came to Brewster. It is

evident that something has displeased his Majesty but I cannot

imagine what it can be. His expression has been so turbulent that

I have feared to give him your kind message. Who knows! Perhaps

the Old Sea God as he lay asleep upon the shore, heard the soft

music of growing things—the stir of life in the earth's bosom,

and his stormy heart was angry, because he knew that his and

Winter's reign was almost at an end. So together the unhappy

monarch[s] fought most despairingly, thinking that gentle Spring

would turn and fly at the very sight of the havoc caused by their

forces. But lo! the lovely maiden only smiles more sweetly, and

breathes upon the icy battlements of her enemies, and in a moment

they vanish, and the glad Earth gives her a royal welcome. But I

must put away these idle fancies until we meet again. Please give

your dear mother my love. Teacher wishes me to say that she liked

the photograph very much and she will see about having some when

we return. Now, dear friend, Please accept these few words

because of the love that is linked with them.

Lovingly yours

HELEN KELLER.

This letter was reproduced in facsimile in St. Nicholas, June,

1892. It is undated, but must have been written two or three

months before it was published.

To St. Nicholas

Dear St. Nicholas:

It gives me very great pleasure to send you my autograph because

I want the boys and girls who read St. Nicholas to know how blind

children write. I suppose some of them wonder how we keep the

lines so straight so I will try to tell them how it is done. We

have a grooved board which we put between the pages when we wish

to write. The parallel grooves correspond to lines and when we

have pressed the paper into them by means of the blunt end of the

pencil it is very easy to keep the words even. The small letters

are all made in the grooves, while the long ones extend above and

below them. We guide the pencil with the right hand, and feel

carefully with the forefinger of the left hand to see that we

shape and space the letters correctly. It is very difficult at

first to form them plainly, but if we keep on trying it gradually

becomes easier, and after a great deal of practice we can write

legible letters to our friends. Then we are very, very happy.

Sometime they may visit a school for the blind. If they do, I am

sure they will wish to see the pupils write.

Very sincerely your little friend

HELEN KELLER.

In May, 1892, Helen gave a tea in aid of the kindergarten for the

blind. It was quite her own idea, and was given in the house of

Mrs. Mahlon D. Spaulding, sister of Mr. John P. Spaulding, one of

Helen's kindest and most liberal friends. The tea brought more

than two thousand dollars for the blind children.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

South Boston, May 9, 1892.

My dear Miss Carrie:—I was much pleased to receive your kind

letter. Need I tell you that I was more than delighted to hear

that you are really interested in the "tea"? Of course we must

not give it up. Very soon I am going far away, to my own dear

home, in the sunny south, and it would always make me happy to

think that the last thing which my dear friends in Boston did for

my pleasure was to help make the lives of many little sightless

children good and happy. I know that kind people cannot help

feeling a tender sympathy for the little ones, who cannot see the

beautiful light, or any of the wonderful things which give them

pleasure; and it seems to me that all loving sympathy must

express itself in acts of kindness; and when the friends of

little helpless blind children understand that we are working for

their happiness, they will come and make our "tea" a success, and

I am sure I shall be the happiest little girl in all the world.

Please let Bishop Brooks know our plans, so that he may arrange

to be with us. I am glad Miss Eleanor is interested. Please give

her my love. I will see you to-morrow and then we can make the

rest of our plans. Please give your dear aunt teacher's and my

love and tell her that we enjoyed our little visit very much

indeed.

Lovingly yours,

HELEN KELLER.

TO MR. JOHN P. SPAULDING

South Boston, May 11th, 1892.

My dear Mr. Spaulding:—I am afraid you will think your little

friend, Helen, very troublesome when you read this letter; but I

am sure you will not blame me when I tell you that I am very

anxious about something. You remember teacher and I told you

Sunday that I wanted to have a little tea in aid of the

kindergarten. We thought everything was arranged: but we found

Monday that Mrs. Elliott would not be willing to let us invite

more than fifty people, because Mrs. Howe's house is quite small.

I am sure that a great many people would like to come to the tea,

and help me do something to brighten the lives of little blind

children; but some of my friends say that I shall have to give up

the idea of having a tea unless we can find another house.

Teacher said yesterday, that perhaps Mrs. Spaulding would be

willing to let us have her beautiful house, and [I] thought I

would ask you about it. Do you think Mrs. Spaulding would help

me, if I wrote to her? I shall be so disappointed if my little

plans fail, because I have wanted for a long time to do something

for the poor little ones who are waiting to enter the

kindergarten. Please let me know what you think about the house,

and try to forgive me for troubling you so much.

Lovingly your little friend,

HELEN KELLER.

TO MR. EDWARD H. CLEMENT

South Boston, May 18th, 1892.

My dear Mr. Clement:—I am going to write to you this beautiful

morning because my heart is brimful of happiness and I want you

and all my dear friends in the Transcript office to rejoice with

me. The preparations for my tea are nearly completed, and I am

looking forward joyfully to the event. I know I shall not fail.

Kind people will not disappoint me, when they know that I plead

for helpless little children who live in darkness and ignorance.

They will come to my tea and buy light,—the beautiful light of

knowledge and love for many little ones who are blind and

friendless. I remember perfectly when my dear teacher came to me.

Then I was like the little blind children who are waiting to

enter the kindergarten. There was no light in my soul. This

wonderful world with all its sunlight and beauty was hidden from

me, and I had never dreamed of its loveliness. But teacher came

to me and taught my little fingers to use the beautiful key that

has unlocked the door of my dark prison and set my spirit free.

It is my earnest wish to share my happiness with others, and I

ask the kind people of Boston to help me make the lives of little

blind children brighter and happier.

Lovingly your little friend,

HELEN KELLER.

At the end of June Miss Sullivan and Helen went home to

Tuscumbia.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

Tuscumbia, Alabama, July 9th 1892.

My dear Carrie—You are to look upon it as a most positive proof

of my love that I write to you to-day. For a whole week it has

been "cold and dark and dreary" in Tuscumbia, and I must confess

the continuous rain and dismalness of the weather fills me with

gloomy thoughts and makes the writing of letters, or any pleasant

employment, seem quite impossible. Nevertheless, I must tell you

that we are alive,—that we reached home safely, and that we

speak of you daily, and enjoy your interesting letters very much.

I had a beautiful visit at Hulton. Everything was fresh and

spring-like, and we stayed out of doors all day. We even ate our

breakfast out on the piazza. Sometimes we sat in the hammock, and

teacher read to me. I rode horseback nearly every evening and

once I rode five miles at a fast gallop. O, it was great fun! Do

you like to ride? I have a very pretty little cart now, and if it

ever stops raining teacher and I are going to drive every

evening. And I have another beautiful Mastiff—the largest one I

ever saw—and he will go along to protect us. His name is Eumer.

A queer name, is it not? I think it is Saxon. We expect to go to

the mountains next week. My little brother, Phillips, is not

well, and we think the clear mountain air will benefit him.

Mildred is a sweet little sister and I am sure you would love

her. I thank you very much for your photograph. I like to have my

friends' pictures even though I cannot see them. I was greatly

amused at the idea of your writing the square hand. I do not

write on a Braille tablet, as you suppose, but on a grooved board

like the piece which I enclose. You could not read Braille; for

it is written in dots, not at all like ordinary letters. Please

give my love to Miss Derby and tell her that I hope she gave my

sweetest love to Baby Ruth. What was the book you sent me for my

birthday? I received several, and I do not know which was from

you. I had one gift which especially pleased me. It was a lovely

cape crocheted, for me, by an old gentleman, seventy-five years

of age. And every stitch, he writes, represents a kind wish for

my health and happiness. Tell your little cousins I think they

had better get upon the fence with me until after the election;

for there are so many parties and candidates that I doubt if such

youthful politicians would make a wise selection. Please give my

love to Rosy when you write, and believe me,

Your loving friend

HELEN KELLER.

P.S. How do you like this type-written letter?

H. K.

TO MRS. GROVER CLEVELAND

My dear Mrs. Cleveland,

I am going to write you a little letter this beautiful morning

because I love you and dear little Ruth very much indeed, and

also because I wish to thank you for the loving message which you

sent me through Miss Derby. I am glad, very glad that such a

kind, beautiful lady loves me. I have loved you for a long time,

but I did not think you had ever heard of me until your sweet

message came. Please kiss your dear little baby for me, and tell

her I have a little brother nearly sixteen months old. His name

is Phillips Brooks. I named him myself after my dear friend

Phillips Brooks. I send you with this letter a pretty book which

my teacher thinks will interest you, and my picture. Please

accept them with the love and good wishes of your friend,

HELEN KELLER.

Tuscumbia, Alabama.

November fourth. [1892.]

Hitherto the letters have been given in full; from this point on

passages are omitted and the omissions are indicated.

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

Tuscumbia, Alabama, Dec. 19, 1892.

My Dear Mr. Hitz,

I hardly know how to begin a letter to you, it has been such a

long time since your kind letter reached me, and there is so much

that I would like to write if I could. You must have wondered why

your letter has not had an answer, and perhaps you have thought

Teacher and me very naughty indeed. If so, you will be very sorry

when I tell you something. Teacher's eyes have been hurting her

so that she could not write to any one, and I have been trying to

fulfil a promise which I made last summer. Before I left Boston,

I was asked to write a sketch of my life for the Youth's

Companion. I had intended to write the sketch during my vacation:

but I was not well, and I did not feel able to write even to my

friends. But when the bright, pleasant autumn days came, and I

felt strong again I began to think about the sketch. It was some

time before I could plan it to suit me. You see, it is not very

pleasant to write all about one's self. At last, however, I got

something bit by bit that Teacher thought would do, and I set

about putting the scraps together, which was not an easy task:

for, although I worked some on it every day, I did not finish it

until a week ago Saturday. I sent the sketch to the Companion as

soon as it was finished; but I do not know that they will accept

it. Since then, I have not been well, and I have been obliged to

keep very quiet, and rest; but to-day I am better, and to-morrow

I shall be well again, I hope.

The reports which you have read in the paper about me are not

true at all. We received the Silent Worker which you sent, and I

wrote right away to the editor to tell him that it was a mistake.

Sometimes I am not well; but I am not a "wreck," and there is

nothing "distressing" about my condition.

I enjoyed your dear letter so much! I am always delighted when

anyone writes me a beautiful thought which I can treasure in my

memory forever. It is because my books are full of the riches of

which Mr. Ruskin speaks that I love them so dearly. I did not

realize until I began to write the sketch for the Companion, what

precious companions books have been to me, and how blessed even

my life has been: and now I am happier than ever because I do

realize the happiness that has come to me. I hope you will write

to me as often as you can. Teacher and I are always delighted to

hear from you. I want to write to Mr. Bell and send him my

picture. I suppose he has been too busy to write to his little

friend. I often think of the pleasant time we had all together in

Boston last spring.

Now I am going to tell you a secret. I think we, Teacher, and my

father and little sister, and myself, will visit Washington next

March!!! Then I shall see you, and dear Mr. Bell, and Elsie and

Daisy again! Would not it be lovely if Mrs. Pratt could meet us

there? I think I will write to her and tell her the secret

too....

Lovingly your little friend,

HELEN KELLER.

P.S. Teacher says you want to know what kind of a pet I would

like to have. I love all living things,—I suppose everyone does;

but of course I cannot have a menagerie. I have a beautiful pony,

and a large dog. And I would like a little dog to hold in my lap,

or a big pussy (there are no fine cats in Tuscumbia) or a parrot.

I would like to feel a parrot talk, it would be so much fun! but

I would be pleased with, and love any little creature you send

me.

H. K.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

Tuscumbia, Alabama, February 18, 1893....You have often been in my thoughts during these sad days,

while my heart has been grieving over the loss of my beloved

friend [Phillips Brooks died January 23, 1893], and I have wished

many times that I was in Boston with those who knew and loved him

as I did... he was so much of a friend to me! so tender and

loving always! I do try not to mourn his death too sadly. I do

try to think that he is still near, very near; but sometimes the

thought that he is not here, that I shall not see him when I go

to Boston,—that he is gone,—rushes over my soul like a great

wave of sorrow. But at other times, when I am happier, I do feel

his beautiful presence, and his loving hand leading me in

pleasant ways. Do you remember the happy hour we spent with him

last June when he held my hand, as he always did, and talked to

us about his friend Tennyson, and our own dear poet Dr. Holmes,

and I tried to teach him the manual alphabet, and he laughed so

gaily over his mistakes, and afterward I told him about my tea,

and he promised to come? I can hear him now, saying in his

cheerful, decided way, in reply to my wish that my tea might be a

success, "Of course it will, Helen. Put your whole heart in the

good work, my child, and it cannot fail." I am glad the people

are going to raise a monument to his memory....

In March Helen and Miss Sullivan went North, and spent the next

few months traveling and visiting friends.

In reading this letter about Niagara one should remember that

Miss Keller knows distance and shape, and that the size of

Niagara is within her experience after she has explored it,

crossed the bridge and gone down in the elevator. Especially

important are such details as her feeling the rush of the water

by putting her hand on the window. Dr. Bell gave her a down

pillow, which she held against her to increase the vibrations.

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

South Boston, April 13, 1893....Teacher, Mrs. Pratt and I very unexpectedly decided to take a

journey with dear Dr. Bell Mr. Westervelt, a gentleman whom

father met in Washington, has a school for the deaf in Rochester.

We went there first....

Mr. Westervelt gave us a reception one afternoon. A great many

people came. Some of them asked odd questions. A lady seemed

surprised that I loved flowers when I could not see their

beautiful colors, and when I assured her I did love them, she

said, "no doubt you feel the colors with your fingers." But of

course, it is not alone for their bright colors that we love the

flowers.... A gentleman asked me what BEAUTY meant to my mind. I

must confess I was puzzled at first. But after a minute I

answered that beauty was a form of goodness—and he went away.

When the reception was over we went back to the hotel and teacher

slept quite unconscious of the surprise which was in store for

her. Mr. Bell and I planned it together, and Mr. Bell made all

the arrangements before we told teacher anything about it. This

was the surprise—I was to have the pleasure of taking my dear

teacher to see Niagara Falls!...

The hotel was so near the river that I could feel it rushing past

by putting my hand on the window. The next morning the sun rose

bright and warm, and we got up quickly for our hearts were full

of pleasant expectation.... You can never imagine how I felt when

I stood in the presence of Niagara until you have the same

mysterious sensations yourself. I could hardly realize that it

was water that I felt rushing and plunging with impetuous fury at

my feet. It seemed as if it were some living thing rushing on to

some terrible fate. I wish I could describe the cataract as it

is, its beauty and awful grandeur, and the fearful and

irresistible plunge of its waters over the brow of the precipice.

One feels helpless and overwhelmed in the presence of such a vast

force. I had the same feeling once before when I first stood by

the great ocean and felt its waves beating against the shore. I

suppose you feel so, too, when you gaze up to the stars in the

stillness of the night, do you not?... We went down a hundred and

twenty feet in an elevator that we might see the violent eddies

and whirlpools in the deep gorge below the Falls. Within two

miles of the Falls is a wonderful suspension bridge. It is thrown

across the gorge at a height of two hundred and fifty-eight feet

above the water and is supported on each bank by towers of solid

rock, which are eight hundred feet apart. When we crossed over to

the Canadian side, I cried, "God save the Queen!" Teacher said I

was a little traitor. But I do not think so. I was only doing as

the Canadians do, while I was in their country, and besides I

honor England's good queen.

You will be pleased, dear Mother, to hear that a kind lady whose

name is Miss Hooker is endeavoring to improve my speech. Oh, I do

so hope and pray that I shall speak well some day!...

Mr. Munsell spent last Sunday evening with us. How you would have

enjoyed hearing him tell about Venice! His beautiful

word-pictures made us feel as if we were sitting in the shadow of

San Marco, dreaming, or sailing upon the moonlit canal.... I hope

when I visit Venice, as I surely shall some day, that Mr. Munsell

will go with me. That is my castle in the air. You see, none of

my friends describe things to me so vividly and so beautifully as

he does....

Her visit to the World's Fair she described in a letter to Mr.

John P. Spaulding, which was published in St. Nicholas, and is

much like the following letter. In a prefatory note which Miss

Sullivan wrote for St. Nicholas, she says that people frequently

said to her, "Helen sees more with her fingers than we do with

our eyes." The President of the Exposition gave her this letter:

TO THE CHIEFS OF THE DEPARTMENTS AND OFFICERS IN CHARGE OF

BUILDINGS AND EXHIBITS

GENTLEMEN—The bearer, Miss Helen Keller, accompanied by Miss

Sullivan, is desirous of making a complete inspection of the

Exposition in all Departments. She is blind and deaf, but is able

to converse, and is introduced to me as one having a wonderful

ability to understand the objects she visits, and as being

possessed of a high order of intelligence and of culture beyond

her years. Please favour her with every facility to examine the

exhibits in the several Departments, and extend to her such other

courtesies as may be possible.

Thanking you in advance for the same, I am, with respect,

Very truly yours,

(signed) H. N. HIGINBOTHAM,

President.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

Hulton, Penn., August 17, 1893....Every one at the Fair was very kind to me... Nearly all of the

exhibitors seemed perfectly willing to let me touch the most

delicate things, and they were very nice about explaining

everything to me. A French gentleman, whose name I cannot

remember, showed me the great French bronzes. I believe they gave

me more pleasure than anything else at the Fair: they were so

lifelike and wonderful to my touch. Dr. Bell went with us himself

to the electrical building, and showed us some of the historical

telephones. I saw the one through which Emperor Dom Pedro

listened to the words, "To be, or not to be," at the Centennial.

Dr. Gillett of Illinois took us to the Liberal Arts and Woman's

buildings. In the former I visited Tiffany's exhibit, and held

the beautiful Tiffany diamond, which is valued at one hundred

thousand dollars, and touched many other rare and costly things.

I sat in King Ludwig's armchair and felt like a queen when Dr.

Gillett remarked that I had many loyal subjects. At the Woman's

building we met the Princess Maria Schaovskoy of Russia, and a

beautiful Syrian lady. I liked them both very much. I went to the

Japanese department with Prof. Morse who is a well-known

lecturer. I never realized what a wonderful people the Japanese

are until I saw their most interesting exhibit. Japan must indeed

be a paradise for children to judge from the great number of

playthings which are manufactured there. The queer-looking

Japanese musical instruments, and their beautiful works of art

were interesting. The Japanese books are very odd. There are

forty-seven letters in their alphabets. Prof. Morse knows a great

deal about Japan, and is very kind and wise. He invited me to

visit his museum in Salem the next time I go to Boston. But I

think I enjoyed the sails on the tranquil lagoon, and the lovely

scenes, as my friends described them to me, more than anything

else at the Fair. Once, while we were out on the water, the sun

went down over the rim of the earth, and threw a soft, rosy light

over the White City, making it look more than ever like

Dreamland....

Of course, we visited the Midway Plaisance. It was a bewildering

and fascinating place. I went into the streets of Cairo, and rode

on the camel. That was fine fun. We also rode in the Ferris

wheel, and on the ice-railway, and had a sail in the

Whale-back....

In the spring of 1893 a club was started in Tuscumbia, of which

Mrs. Keller was president, to establish a public library. Miss

Keller says:

"I wrote to my friends about the work and enlisted their

sympathy. Several hundred books, including many fine ones, were

sent to me in a short time, as well as money and encouragement.

This generous assistance encouraged the ladies, and they have

gone on collecting and buying books ever since, until now they

have a very respectable public library in the town."

TO MRS. CHARLES E. INCHES

Hulton, Penn., Oct. 21, 1893....We spent September at home in Tuscumbia... and were all very

happy together.... Our quiet mountain home was especially

attractive and restful after the excitement and fatigue of our

visit to the World's Fair. We enjoyed the beauty and solitude of

the hills more than ever.

And now we are in Hulton, Penn. again where I am going to study

this winter with a tutor assisted by my dear teacher. I study

Arithmetic, Latin and literature. I enjoy my lessons very much.

It is so pleasant to learn about new things. Every day I find how

little I know, but I do not feel discouraged since God has given

me an eternity in which to learn more. In literature I am

studying Longfellow's poetry. I know a great deal of it by heart,

for I loved it long before I knew a metaphor from a synecdoche. I

used to say I did not like arithmetic very well, but now I have

changed my mind. I see what a good and useful study it is, though

I must confess my mind wanders from it sometimes! for, nice and

useful as arithmetic is, it is not as interesting as a beautiful

poem or a lovely story. But bless me, how time does fly. I have

only a few moments left in which to answer your questions about

the "Helen Keller" Public Library.

1. I think there are about 3,000 people in Tuscumbia, Ala., and

perhaps half of them are colored people. 2. At present there is

no library of any sort in the town. That is why I thought about

starting one. My mother and several of my lady friends said they

would help me, and they formed a club, the object of which is to

work for the establishment of a free public library in Tuscumbia.

They have now about 100 books and about $55 in money, and a kind

gentleman has given us land on which to erect a library building.

But in the meantime the club has rented a little room in a

central part of the town, and the books which we already have are

free to all. 3. Only a few of my kind friends in Boston know

anything about the library. I did not like to trouble them while

I was trying to get money for poor little Tommy, for of course it

was more important that he should be educated than that my people

should have books to read. 4. I do not know what books we have,

but I think it is a miscellaneous (I think that is the word)

collection....

P.S. My teacher thinks it would be more businesslike to say that

a list of the contributors toward the building fund will be kept

and published in my father's paper, the "North Alabamian."

H. K.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

Hulton, Penn., December 28, 1893....Please thank dear Miss Derby for me for the pretty shield

which she sent me. It is a very interesting souvenir of Columbus,

and of the Fair White City; but I cannot imagine what discoveries

I have made,—I mean new discoveries. We are all discoverers in

one sense, being born quite ignorant of all things; but I hardly

think that is what she meant. Tell her she must explain why I am

a discoverer....

TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE

Hulton, Pennsylvania, January 14, 1894

My dear Cousin: I had thought to write to you long before this in

answer to your kind letter which I was so glad to receive, and to

thank you for the beautiful little book which you sent me; but I

have been very busy since the beginning of the New Year. The

publication of my little story in the Youth's Companion has

brought me a large number of letters,—last week I received

sixty-one!—and besides replying to some of these letters, I have

many lessons to learn, among them Arithmetic and Latin; and, you

know, Caesar is Caesar still, imperious and tyrannical, and if a

little girl would understand so great a man, and the wars and

conquests of which he tells in his beautiful Latin language, she

must study much and think much, and study and thought require

time.

I shall prize the little book always, not only for its own value;

but because of its associations with you. It is a delight to

think of you as the giver of one of your books into which, I am

sure, you have wrought your own thoughts and feelings, and I

thank you very much for remembering me in such a very beautiful

way....

In February Helen and Miss Sullivan returned to Tuscumbia. They

spent the rest of the spring reading and studying. In the summer

they attended the meeting at Chautauqua of the American

Association for the Promotion of the Teaching of Speech to the

Deaf, where Miss Sullivan read a paper on Helen Keller's

education.

In the fall Helen and Miss Sullivan entered the Wright-Humason

School in New York, which makes a special of lip-reading and

voice-culture. The "singing lessons" were to strengthen her

voice. She had taken a few piano lessons at the Perkins

Institution. The experiment was interesting, but of course came

to little.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

The Wright-Humason School.

42 West 76th St.

New York. Oct. 23, 1894....The school is very pleasant, and bless you! it is quite

fashionable.... I study Arithmetic, English Literature and United

States History as I did last winter. I also keep a diary. I enjoy

my singing lessons with Dr. Humason more than I can say. I expect

to take piano lessons sometime....

Last Saturday our kind teachers planned a delightful trip to

Bedloe's Island to see Bartholdi's great statue of Liberty

enlightening the world.... The ancient cannon, which look

seaward, wear a very menacing expression; but I doubt if there is

any unkindness in their rusty old hearts.

Liberty is a gigantic figure of a woman in Greek draperies,

holding in her right hand a torch.... A spiral stairway leads

from the base of this pedestal to the torch. We climbed up to the

head which will hold forty persons, and viewed the scene on which

Liberty gazes day and night, and O, how wonderful it was! We did

not wonder that the great French artist thought the place worthy

to be the home of his grand ideal. The glorious bay lay calm and

beautiful in the October sunshine, and the ships came and went

like idle dreams; those seaward going slowly disappeared like

clouds that change from gold to gray; those homeward coming sped

more quickly like birds that seek their mother's nest....

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

The Wright-Humason School.

New York, March 15, 1895....I think I have improved a little in lip-reading, though I

still find it very difficult to read rapid speech; but I am sure

I shall succeed some day if I only persevere. Dr. Humason is

still trying to improve my speech. Oh, Carrie, how I should like

to speak like other people! I should be willing to work night and

day if it could only be accomplished. Think what a joy it would

be to all of my friends to hear me speak naturally!! I wonder why

it is so difficult and perplexing for a deaf child to learn to

speak when it is so easy for other people; but I am sure I shall

speak perfectly some time if I am only patient....

Although I have been so busy, I have found time to read a good

deal.... I have lately read "Wilhelm Tell" by Schiller, and "The

Lost Vestal."... Now I am reading "Nathan the Wise" by Lessing

and "King Arthur" by Miss Mulock....You know our kind teachers take us to see everything which

they think will interest us, and we learn a great deal in that

delightful way. On George Washington's birthday we all went to

the Dog Show, and although there was a great crowd in the Madison

Square Garden, and despite the bewilderment caused by the variety

of sounds made by the dog-orchestra, which was very confusing to

those who could hear them, we enjoyed the afternoon very much.

Among the dogs which received the most attention were the

bulldogs. They permitted themselves startling liberties when any

one caressed them, crowding themselves almost into one's arms and

helping themselves without ceremony to kisses, apparently

unconscious of the impropriety of their conduct. Dear me, what

unbeautiful little beasts they are! But they are so good natured

and friendly, one cannot help liking them.

Dr. Humason, Teacher, and I left the others at the Dog Show and

went to a reception given by the "Metropolitan Club."... It is

sometimes called the "Millionaires' Club." The building is

magnificent, being built of white marble; the rooms are large and

splendidly furnished; but I must confess, so much splendor is

rather oppressive to me; and I didn't envy the millionaires in

the least all the happiness their gorgeous surroundings are

supposed to bring them....

TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER

New York, March 31, 1895....Teacher and I spent the afternoon at Mr. Hutton's, and had a

most delightful time!... We met Mr. Clemens and Mr. Howells

there! I had known about them for a long time; but I had never

thought that I should see them, and talk to them; and I can

scarcely realize now that this great pleasure has been mine! But,

much as I wonder that I, only a little girl of fourteen, should

come in contact with so many distinguished people, I do realize

that I am a very happy child, and very grateful for the many

beautiful privileges I have enjoyed. The two distinguished

authors were very gentle and kind, and I could not tell which of

them I loved best. Mr. Clemens told us many entertaining stories,

and made us laugh till we cried. I only wish you could have seen

and heard him! He told us that he would go to Europe in a few

days to bring his wife and his daughter, Jeanne, back to America,

because Jeanne, who is studying in Paris, has learned so much in

three years and a half that if he did not bring her home, she

would soon know more than he did. I think Mark Twain is a very

appropriate nom de plume for Mr. Clemens because it has a funny

and quaint sound, and goes well with his amusing writings, and

its nautical significance suggests the deep and beautiful things

that he has written. I think he is very handsome indeed....

Teacher said she thought he looked something like Paradeuski. (If

that is the way to spell the name.) Mr. Howells told me a little

about Venice, which is one of his favorite cities, and spoke very

tenderly of his dear little girl, Winnifred, who is now with God.

He has another daughter, named Mildred, who knows Carrie. I might

have seen Mrs. Wiggin, the sweet author of "Birds' Christmas

Carol," but she had a dangerous cough and could not come. I was

much disappointed not to see her, but I hope I shall have that

pleasure some other time. Mr. Hutton gave me a lovely little

glass, shaped like a thistle, which belonged to his dear mother,

as a souvenir of my delightful visit. We also met Mr. Rogers...

who kindly left his carriage to bring us home.

When the Wright-Humason School closed for the summer, Miss

Sullivan and Helen went South.

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

Tuscumbia, Alabama, July 29, 1895....I am spending my vacation very quietly and pleasantly at my

beautiful, sunny home, with my loving parents, my darling little

sister and my small brother, Phillips My precious teacher is

with me too, and so of course I am happy I read a little, walk a

little, write a little and play with the children a great deal,

and the days slip by delightfully!...

My friends are so pleased with the improvement which I made in

speech and lip-reading last year, that it has been decided best

for me to continue my studies in New York another year I am

delighted at the prospect, of spending another year in your great

city I used to think that I should never feel "at home" in New

York, but since I have made the acquaintance of so many people,

and can look back to such a bright and successful winter there, I

find myself looking forward to next year, and anticipating still

brighter and better times in the Metropolis

Please give my kindest love to Mr Hutton, and Mrs Riggs and Mr

Warner too, although I have never had the pleasure of knowing him

personally As I listen Venicewards, I hear Mr Hutton's pen

dancing over the pages of his new book It is a pleasant sound

because it is full of promise How much I shall enjoy reading it!

Please pardon me, my dear Mrs Hutton, for sending you a

typewritten letter across the ocean I have tried several times

to write with a pencil on my little writing machine since I came

home; but I have found it very difficult to do so on account of

the heat The moisture of my hand soils and blurs the paper so

dreadfully, that I am compelled to use my typewriter altogether

And it is not my "Remington" either, but a naughty little thing

that gets out of order on the slightest provocation, and cannot

be induced to make a period...

TO MRS. WILLIAM THAW

New York, October 16, 1895.

Here we are once more in the great metropolis! We left Hulton

Friday night and arrived here Saturday morning. Our friends were

greatly surprised to see us, as they had not expected us before

the last of this month. I rested Saturday afternoon, for I was

very tired, and Sunday I visited with my schoolmates, and now

that I feel quite rested, I am going to write to you; for I know

you will want to hear that we reached New York safely. We had to

change cars at Philadelphia; but we did not mind it much. After

we had had our breakfast, Teacher asked one of the train-men in

the station if the New York train was made up. He said no, it

would not be called for about fifteen minutes; so we sat down to

wait; but in a moment the man came back and asked Teacher if we

would like to go to the train at once. She said we would, and he

took us way out on the track and put us on board our train. Thus

we avoided the rush and had a nice quiet visit before the train

started. Was that not very kind? So it always is. Some one is

ever ready to scatter little acts of kindness along our pathway,

making it smooth and pleasant...

We had a quiet but very pleasant time in Hulton. Mr. Wade is just

as dear and good as ever! He has lately had several books printed

in England for me, "Old Mortality," "The Castle of Otranto" and

"King of No-land."...

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

New York, December 29, 1895....Teacher and I have been very gay of late. We have seen our

kind friends, Mrs. Dodge, Mr. and Mrs. Hutton, Mrs. Riggs and her

husband, and met many distinguished people, among whom were Miss

Ellen Terry, Sir Henry Irving and Mr. Stockton! Weren't we very

fortunate? Miss Terry was lovely. She kissed Teacher and said, "I

do not know whether I am glad to see you or not; for I feel so

ashamed of myself when I think of how much you have done for the

little girl." We also met Mr. and Mrs. Terry, Miss Terry's

brother and his wife. I thought her beauty angellic, and oh, what

a clear, beautiful voice she had! We saw Miss Terry again with

Sir Henry in "King Charles the First," a week ago last Friday,

and after the play they kindly let me feel of them and get an

idea of how they looked. How noble and kingly the King was,

especially in his misfortunes! And how pretty and faithful the

poor Queen was! The play seemed so real, we almost forgot where

we were, and believed we were watching the genuine scenes as they

were acted so long ago. The last act affected us most deeply, and

we all wept, wondering how the executioner could have the heart

to tear the King from his loving wife's arms.

I have just finished reading "Ivanhoe." It was very exciting; but

I must say I did not enjoy it very much. Sweet Rebecca, with her

strong, brave spirit, and her pure, generous nature, was the only

character which thoroughly won my admiration. Now I am reading

"Stories from Scottish History," and they are very thrilling and

absorbing!...

The next two letters were written just after the death of Mr.

John P. Spaulding.

TO MRS. GEORGE H. BRADFORD

New York, February 4, 1896.

What can I say which will make you understand how much Teacher

and I appreciate your thoughtful kindness in sending us those

little souvenirs of the dear room where we first met the best and

kindest of friends? Indeed, you can never know all the comfort

you have given us. We have put the dear picture on the

mantel-piece in our room where we can see it every day, and I

often go and touch it, and somehow I cannot help feeling that our

beloved friend is very near to me.... It was very hard to take up

our school work again, as if nothing had happened; but I am sure

it is well that we have duties which must be done, and which take

our minds away for a time at least from our sorrow....

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

New York, March 2nd, 1896....We miss dear King John sadly. It was so hard to lose him, he

was the best and kindest of friends, and I do not know what we

shall do without him....

We went to a poultry-show... and the man there kindly permitted

us to feel of the birds. They were so tame, they stood perfectly

still when I handled them. I saw great big turkeys, geese,

guineas, ducks and many others.

Almost two weeks ago we called at Mr. Hutton's and had a

delightful time. We always do! We met Mr. Warner, the writer, Mr.

Mabie, the editor of the Outlook and other pleasant people. I am

sure you would like to know Mr. and Mrs. Hutton, they are so kind

and interesting. I can never tell you how much pleasure they have

given us.

Mr. Warner and Mr. Burroughs, the great lover of nature, came to

see us a few days after, and we had a delightful talk with them.

They were both very, very dear! Mr. Burroughs told me about his

home near the Hudson, and what a happy place it must be! I hope

we shall visit it some day. Teacher has read me his lively

stories about his boyhood, and I enjoyed them greatly. Have you

read the beautiful poem, "Waiting"? I know it, and it makes me

feel so happy, it has such sweet thoughts. Mr. Warner showed me a

scarf-pin with a beetle on it which was made in Egypt fifteen

hundred years before Christ, and told me that the beetle meant

immortality to the Egyptians because it wrapped itself up and

went to sleep and came out again in a new form, thus renewing

itself.

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

New York, April 25, 1896....My studies are the same as they were when I saw you, except

that I have taken up French with a French teacher who comes three

times a week. I read her lips almost exclusively, (she does not

know the manual alphabet) and we get on quite well. I have read

"Le Medecin Malgre Lui," a very good French comedy by Moliere,

with pleasure; and they say I speak French pretty well now, and

German also. Anyway, French and German people understand what I

am trying to say, and that is very encouraging. In voice-training

I have still the same old difficulties to contend against; and

the fulfilment of my wish to speak well seems O, so far away!

Sometimes I feel sure that I catch a faint glimpse of the goal I

am striving for, but in another minute a bend in the road hides

it from my view, and I am again left wandering in the dark! But I

try hard not to be discouraged. Surely we shall all find at last

the ideals we are seeking....

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

Brewster, Mass. July 15, 1896....As to the book, I am sure I shall enjoy it very much when I am

admitted, by the magic of Teacher's dear fingers, into the

companionship of the two sisters who went to the Immortal

Fountain.

As I sit by the window writing to you, it is so lovely to have

the soft, cool breezes fan my cheek and to feel that the hard

work of last year is over! Teacher seems to feel benefitted by

the change too; for she is already beginning to look like her

dear old self. We only need you, dear Mr. Hitz, to complete our

happiness. Teacher and Mrs. Hopkins both say you must come as

soon as you can! We will try to make you comfortable.

Teacher and I spent nine days at Philadelphia. Have you ever been

at Dr. Crouter's Institution? Mr. Howes has probably given you a

full account of our doings. We were busy all the time; we

attended the meetings and talked with hundreds of people, among

whom were dear Dr. Bell, Mr. Banerji of Calcutta, Monsieur Magnat

of Paris with whom I conversed in French exclusively, and many

other distinguished persons. We had looked forward to seeing you

there, and so we were greatly disappointed that you did not come.

We think of you so, so often! and our hearts go out to you in

tenderest sympathy; and you know better than this poor letter can

tell you how happy we always are to have you with us! I made a

"speech" on July eighth, telling the members of the Association

what an unspeakable blessing speech has been to me, and urging

them to give every little deaf child an opportunity to learn to

speak. Every one said I spoke very well and intelligibly. After

my little "speech," we attended a reception at which over six

hundred people were present. I must confess I do not like such

large receptions; the people crowd so, and we have to do so much

talking; and yet it is at receptions like the one in Philadelphia

that we often meet friends whom we learn to love afterwards. We

left the city last Thursday night, and arrived in Brewster Friday

afternoon. We missed the Cape Cod train Friday morning, and so we

came down to Provincetown in the steamer Longfellow. I am glad we

did so; for it was lovely and cool on the water, and Boston

Harbor is always interesting.

We spent about three weeks in Boston, after leaving New York, and

I need not tell you we had a most delightful time. We visited our

good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Chamberlin, at Wrentham, out in the

country, where they have a lovely home. Their house stands near a

charming lake where we went boating and canoeing, which was great

fun. We also went in bathing several times. Mr. and Mrs.

Chamberlin celebrated the 17th of June by giving a picnic to

their literary friends. There were about forty persons present,

all of whom were writers and publishers. Our friend, Mr. Alden,

the editor of Harper's was there, and of course we enjoyed his

society very much....

TO CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER

Brewster, Mass., September 3, 1896....I have been meaning to write to you all summer; there were

many things I wanted to tell you, and I thought perhaps you would

like to hear about our vacation by the seaside, and our plans for

next year; but the happy, idle days slipped away so quickly, and

there were so many pleasant things to do every moment, that I

never found time to clothe my thought in words, and send them to

you. I wonder what becomes of lost opportunities. Perhaps our

guardian angel gathers them up as we drop them, and will give

them back to us in the beautiful sometime when we have grown

wiser, and learned how to use them rightly. But, however this may

be, I cannot now write the letter which has lain in my thought

for you so long. My heart is too full of sadness to dwell upon

the happiness the summer has brought me. My father is dead. He

died last Saturday at my home in Tuscumbia, and I was not there.

My own dear loving father! Oh, dear friend, how shall I ever bear

it!...

On the first of October Miss Keller entered the Cambridge School

for Young Ladies, of which Mr. Arthur Gilman is Principal. The

"examinations" mentioned in this letter were merely tests given

in the school, but as they were old Harvard papers, it is evident

that in some subjects Miss Keller was already fairly well

prepared for Radcliffe.

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

37 Concord Avenue, Cambridge, Mass.

October 8, 1896....I got up early this morning, so that I could write you a few

lines. I know you want to hear how I like my school. I do wish

you could come and see for yourself what a beautiful school it

is! There are about a hundred girls, and they are all so bright

and happy; it is a joy to be with them.

You will be glad to hear that I passed my examinations

successfully. I have been examined in English, German, French,

and Greek and Roman history. They were the entrance examinations

for Harvard College; so I feel pleased to think I could pass

them. This year is going to be a very busy one for Teacher and

myself. I am studying Arithmetic, English Literature, English

History, German, Latin, and advanced geography; there is a great

deal of preparatory reading required, and, as few of the books

are in raised print, poor Teacher has to spell them all out to

me; and that means hard work.

You must tell Mr. Howells when you see him, that we are living in

his house....

TO MRS. WILLIAM THAW

37 Concord Avenue, Cambridge, Mass.,

December 2, 1896....It takes me a long time to prepare my lessons, because I have

to have every word of them spelled out in my hand. Not one of the

textbooks which I am obliged to use is in raised print; so of

course my work is harder than it would be if I could read my

lessons over by myself. But it is harder for Teacher than it is

for me because the strain on her poor eyes is so great, and I

cannot help worrying about them. Sometimes it really seems as if

the task which we have set ourselves were more than we can

accomplish; but at other times I enjoy my work more than I can

say.

It is such a delight to be with the other girls, and do

everything that they do. I study Latin, German, Arithmetic and

English History, all of which I enjoy except Arithmetic. I am

afraid I have not a mathematical mind; for my figures always

manage to get into the wrong places!...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

Cambridge, Mass., May 3, 1897....You know I am trying very hard to get through with the reading

for the examinations in June, and this, in addition to my regular

schoolwork keeps me awfully busy. But Johnson, and "The Plague"

and everything else must wait a few minutes this afternoon, while

I say, thank you, my dear Mrs. Hutton.......What a splendid time we had at the "Players' Club." I always

thought clubs were dull, smoky places, where men talked politics,

and told endless stories, all about themselves and their

wonderful exploits: but now I see, I must have been quite

wrong....

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

Wrentham, Mass. July 9, 1897....Teacher and I are going to spend the summer at Wrentham, Mass.

with our friends, the Chamberlins. I think you remember Mr.

Chamberlin, the "Listener" in the Boston Transcript. They are

dear, kind people....

But I know you want to hear about my examinations. I know that

you will be glad to hear that I passed all of them successfully.

The subjects I offered were elementary and advanced German,

French, Latin, English, and Greek and Roman History. It seems

almost too good to be true, does it not? All the time I was

preparing for the great ordeal, I could not suppress an inward

fear and trembling lest I should fail, and now it is an

unspeakable relief to know that I have passed the examinations

with credit. But what I consider my crown of success is the

happiness and pleasure that my victory has brought dear Teacher.

Indeed, I feel that the success is hers more than mine; for she

is my constant inspiration....

At the end of September Miss Sullivan and Miss Keller returned to

the Cambridge School, where they remained until early in

December. Then the interference of Mr. Gilman resulted in Mrs.

Keller's withdrawing Miss Helen and her sister, Miss Mildred,

from the school. Miss Sullivan and her pupil went to Wrentham,

where they worked under Mr. Merton S. Keith, an enthusiastic and

skilful teacher.

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

Wrentham, February 20, 1898....I resumed my studies soon after your departure, and in a very

little while we were working as merrily as if the dreadful

experience of a month ago had been but a dream. I cannot tell you

how much I enjoy the country. It is so fresh, and peaceful and

free! I do think I could work all day long without feeling tired

if they would let me. There are so many pleasant things to

do—not always very easy things,—much of my work in Algebra and

Geometry is hard: but I love it all, especially Greek. Just

think, I shall soon finish my grammar! Then comes the "Iliad."

What an inexpressible joy it will be to read about Achilles, and

Ulysses, and Andromache and Athene, and the rest of my old

friends in their own glorious language! I think Greek is the

loveliest language that I know anything about. If it is true that

the violin is the most perfect of musical instruments, then Greek

is the violin of human thought.

We have had some splendid toboganning this month. Every morning,

before lesson-time, we all go out to the steep hill on the

northern shore of the lake near the house, and coast for an hour

or so. Some one balances the toboggan on the very crest of the

hill, while we get on, and when we are ready, off we dash down

the side of the hill in a headlong rush, and, leaping a

projection, plunge into a snow-drift and go swimming far across

the pond at a tremendous rate!...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

[Wrentham] April 12, 1898....I am glad Mr. Keith is so well pleased with my progress. It is

true that Algebra and Geometry are growing easier all the time,

especially algebra; and I have just received books in raised

print which will greatly facilitate my work....

I find I get on faster, and do better work with Mr. Keith than I

did in the classes at the Cambridge School, and I think it was

well that I gave up that kind of work. At any rate, I have not

been idle since I left school; I have accomplished more, and been

happier than I could have been there....

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

[Wrentham] May 29, 1898....My work goes on bravely. Each day is filled to the brim with

hard study; for I am anxious to accomplish as much as possible

before I put away my books for the summer vacation. You will be

pleased to hear that I did three problems in Geometry yesterday

without assistance. Mr. Keith and Teacher were quite enthusiastic

over the achievement, and I must confess, I felt somewhat elated

myself. Now I feel as if I should succeed in doing something in

mathematics, although I cannot see why it is so very important to

know that the lines drawn from the extremities of the base of an

isosceles triangle to the middle points of the opposite sides are

equal! The knowledge doesn't make life any sweeter or happier,

does it? On the other hand, when we learn a new word, it is the

key to untold treasures....

TO CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER

Wrentham, Mass., June 7, 1898.

I am afraid you will conclude that I am not very anxious for a

tandem after all, since I have let nearly a week pass without

answering your letter in regard to the kind of wheel I should

like. But really, I have been so constantly occupied with my

studies since we returned from New York, that I have not had time

even to think of the fun it would be to have a bicycle! You see,

I am anxious to accomplish as much as possible before the long

summer vacation begins. I am glad, though, that it is nearly time

to put away my books; for the sunshine and flowers, and the

lovely lake in front of our house are doing their best to tempt

me away from my Greek and Mathematics, especially from the

latter! I am sure the daisies and buttercups have as little use

for the science of Geometry as I, in spite of the fact that they

so beautifully illustrate its principles.

But bless me, I mustn't forget the tandem! The truth is, I know

very little about bicycles. I have only ridden a "sociable,"

which is very different from the ordinary tandem. The "sociable"

is safer, perhaps, than the tandem; but it is very heavy and

awkward, and has a way of taking up the greater part of the road.

Besides, I have been told that "sociables" cost more than other

kinds of bicycles. My teacher and other friends think I could

ride a Columbia tandem in the country with perfect safety. They

also think your suggestion about a fixed handlebar a good one. I

ride with a divided skirt, and so does my teacher; but it would

be easier for her to mount a man's wheel than for me; so, if it

could be arranged to have the ladies' seat behind, I think it

would be better....

TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY

Wrentham, September 11, 1898....I am out of doors all the time, rowing, swimming, riding and

doing a multitude of other pleasant things. This morning I rode

over twelve miles on my tandem! I rode on a rough road, and fell

off three or four times, and am now awfully lame! But the weather

and the scenery were so beautiful, and it was such fun to go

scooting over the smoother part of the road, I didn't mind the

mishaps in the least.

I have really learned to swim and dive—after a fashion! I can

swim a little under water, and do almost anything I like, without

fear of getting drowned! Isn't that fine? It is almost no effort

for me to row around the lake, no matter how heavy the load may

be. So you can well imagine how strong and brown I am....

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

October 23, 1898.

This is the first opportunity I have had to write to you since we

came here last Monday. We have been in such a whirl ever since we

decided to come to Boston; it seemed as if we should never get

settled. Poor Teacher has had her hands full, attending to

movers, and express-men, and all sorts of people. I wish it were

not such a bother to move, especially as we have to do it so

often!......Mr. Keith comes here at half past three every day except

Saturday. He says he prefers to come here for the present. I am

reading the "Iliad," and the "Aeneid" and Cicero, besides doing a

lot in Geometry and Algebra. The "Iliad" is beautiful with all

the truth, and grace and simplicity of a wonderfully childlike

people while the "Aeneid" is more stately and reserved. It is

like a beautiful maiden, who always lived in a palace, surrounded

by a magnificent court; while the "Iliad" is like a splendid

youth, who has had the earth for his playground.

The weather has been awfully dismal all the week; but to-day is

beautiful, and our room floor is flooded with sunlight. By and by

we shall take a little walk in the Public Gardens. I wish the

Wrentham woods were round the corner! But alas! they are not, and

I shall have to content myself with a stroll in the Gardens.

Somehow, after the great fields and pastures and lofty

pine-groves of the country, they seem shut-in and conventional.

Even the trees seem citified and self-conscious. Indeed, I doubt

if they are on speaking terms with their country cousins! Do you

know, I cannot help feeling sorry for these trees with all their

fashionable airs? They are like the people whom they see every

day, who prefer the crowded, noisy city to the quiet and freedom

of the country. They do not even suspect how circumscribed their

lives are. They look down pityingly on the country-folk, who have

never had an opportunity "to see the great world." Oh my! if they

only realized their limitations, they would flee for their lives

to the woods and fields. But what nonsense is this! You will

think I'm pining away for my beloved Wrentham, which is true in

one sense and not in another. I do miss Red Farm and the dear

ones there dreadfully; but I am not unhappy. I have Teacher and

my books, and I have the certainty that something sweet and good

will come to me in this great city, where human beings struggle

so bravely all their lives to wring happiness from cruel

circumstances. Anyway, I am glad to have my share in life,

whether it be bright or sad....

TO MRS. WILLIAM THAW

Boston, December 6th, 1898.

My teacher and I had a good laugh over the girls' frolic. How

funny they must have looked in their "rough-rider" costumes,

mounted upon their fiery steeds! "Slim" would describe them, if

they were anything like the saw-horses I have seen. What jolly

times they must have at—! I cannot help wishing sometimes that

I could have some of the fun that other girls have. How quickly I

should lock up all these mighty warriors, and hoary sages, and

impossible heroes, who are now almost my only companions; and

dance and sing and frolic like other girls! But I must not waste

my time wishing idle wishes; and after all my ancient friends are

very wise and interesting, and I usually enjoy their society very

much indeed. It is only once in a great while that I feel

discontented, and allow myself to wish for things I cannot hope

for in this life. But, as you know, my heart is usually brimful

of happiness. The thought that my dear Heavenly Father is always

near, giving me abundantly of all those things, which truly

enrich life and make it sweet and beautiful, makes every

deprivation seem of little moment compared with the countless

blessings I enjoy.

TO MRS. WILLIAM THAW

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

December 19th, 1898....I realize now what a selfish, greedy girl I was to ask that my

cup of happiness should be filled to overflowing, without

stopping to think how many other people's cups were quite empty.

I feel heartily ashamed of my thoughtlessness. One of the

childish illusions, which it has been hardest for me to get rid

of, is that we have only to make our wishes known in order to

have them granted. But I am slowly learning that there is not

happiness enough in the world for everyone to have all that he

wants; and it grieves me to think that I should have forgotten,

even for a moment, that I already have more than my share, and

that like poor little Oliver Twist I should have asked for

"more."...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

12 Newberry Street, Boston.

December 22, 1898...I suppose Mr. Keith writes you the work-a-day news. If so, you

know that I have finished all the geometry, and nearly all the

Algebra required for the Harvard examinations, and after

Christmas I shall begin a very careful review of both subjects.

You will be glad to hear that I enjoy Mathematics now. Why, I can

do long, complicated quadratic equations in my head quite easily,

and it is great fun! I think Mr. Keith is a wonderful teacher,

and I feel very grateful to him for having made me see the beauty

of Mathematics. Next to my own dear teacher, he has done more

than any one else to enrich and broaden my mind.

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

January 17, 1899....Have you seen Kipling's "Dreaming True," or "Kitchener's

School?" It is a very strong poem and set me dreaming too. Of

course you have read about the "Gordon Memorial College," which

the English people are to erect at Khartoum. While I was thinking

over the blessings that would come to the people of Egypt through

this college, and eventually to England herself, there came into

my heart the strong desire that my own dear country should in a

similar way convert the terrible loss of her brave sons on the

"Maine" into a like blessing to the people of Cuba. Would a

college at Havana not be the noblest and most enduring monument

that could be raised to the brave men of the "Maine," as well as

a source of infinite good to all concerned? Imagine entering the

Havana harbor, and having the pier, where the "Maine" was

anchored on that dreadful night, when she was so mysteriously

destroyed, pointed out to you, and being told that the great,

beautiful building overlooking the spot was the "Maine Memorial

College," erected by the American people, and having for its

object the education both of Cubans and Spaniards! What a

glorious triumph such a monument would be of the best and highest

instincts of a Christian nation! In it there would be no

suggestion of hatred or revenge, nor a trace of the old-time

belief that might makes right. On the other hand, it would be a

pledge to the world that we intend to stand by our declaration of

war, and give Cuba to the Cubans, as soon as we have fitted them

to assume the duties and responsibilities of a self-governing

people....

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

February 3, 1899....I had an exceedingly interesting experience last Monday. A

kind friend took me over in the morning to the Boston Art Museum.

She had previously obtained permission from General Loring, Supt.

of the Museum, for me to touch the statues, especially those

which represented my old friends in the "Iliad" and "Aeneid." Was

that not lovely? While I was there, General Loring himself came

in, and showed me some of the most beautiful statues, among which

were the Venus of Medici, the Minerva of the Parthenon, Diana, in

her hunting costume, with her hand on the quiver and a doe by her

side, and the unfortunate Laocoon and his two little sons,

struggling in the fearful coils of two huge serpents, and

stretching their arms to the skies with heart-rending cries. I

also saw Apollo Belvidere. He had just slain the Python and was

standing by a great pillar of rock, extending his graceful hand

in triumph over the terrible snake. Oh, he was simply beautiful!

Venus entranced me. She looked as if she had just risen from the

foam of the sea, and her loveliness was like a strain of heavenly

music. I also saw poor Niobe with her youngest child clinging

close to her while she implored the cruel goddess not to kill her

last darling. I almost cried, it was all so real and tragic.

General Loring kindly showed me a copy of one of the wonderful

bronze doors of the Baptistry of Florence, and I felt of the

graceful pillars, resting on the backs of fierce lions. So you

see, I had a foretaste of the pleasure which I hope some day to

have of visiting Florence. My friend said, she would sometime

show me the copies of the marbles brought away by Lord Elgin from

the Parthenon. But somehow, I should prefer to see the originals

in the place where Genius meant them to remain, not only as a

hymn of praise to the gods, but also as a monument of the glory

of Greece. It really seems wrong to snatch such sacred things

away from the sanctuary of the Past where they belong....

TO MR. WILLIAM WADE

Boston, February 19th, 1899.

Why, bless you, I thought I wrote to you the day after the

"Eclogues" arrived, and told you how glad I was to have them!

Perhaps you never got that letter. At any rate, I thank you, dear

friend, for taking such a world of trouble for me. You will be

glad to hear that the books from England are coming now. I

already have the seventh and eighth books of the "Aeneid" and one

book of the "Iliad," all of which is most fortunate, as I have

come almost to the end of my embossed text-books.

It gives me great pleasure to hear how much is being done for the

deaf-blind. The more I learn of them, the more kindness I find.

Why, only a little while ago people thought it quite impossible

to teach the deaf-blind anything; but no sooner was it proved

possible than hundreds of kind, sympathetic hearts were fired

with the desire to help them, and now we see how many of those

poor, unfortunate persons are being taught to see the beauty and

reality of life. Love always finds its way to an imprisoned soul,

and leads it out into the world of freedom and intelligence!

As to the two-handed alphabet, I think it is much easier for

those who have sight than the manual alphabet; for most of the

letters look like the large capitals in books; but I think when

it comes to teaching a deaf-blind person to spell, the manual

alphabet is much more convenient, and less conspicuous....

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

March 5, 1899....I am now sure that I shall be ready for my examinations in

June. There is but one cloud in my sky at present; but that is

one which casts a dark shadow over my life, and makes me very

anxious at times. My teacher's eyes are no better: indeed, I

think they grow more troublesome, though she is very brave and

patient, and will not give up. But it is most distressing to me

to feel that she is sacrificing her sight for me. I feel as if I

ought to give up the idea of going to college altogether: for not

all the knowledge in the world could make me happy, if obtained

at such a cost. I do wish, Mrs. Hutton, you would try to persuade

Teacher to take a rest, and have her eyes treated. She will not

listen to me.

I have just had some pictures taken, and if they are good, I

would like to send one to Mr. Rogers, if you think he would like

to have it. I would like so much to show him in some way how

deeply I appreciate all that he is doing for me, and I cannot

think of anything better to do.

Every one here is talking about the Sargent pictures. It is a

wonderful exhibition of portraits, they say. How I wish I had

eyes to see them! How I should delight in their beauty and color!

However, I am glad that I am not debarred from all pleasure in

the pictures. I have at least the satisfaction of seeing them

through the eyes of my friends, which is a real pleasure. I am so

thankful that I can rejoice in the beauties, which my friends

gather and put into my hands!

We are all so glad and thankful that Mr. Kipling did not die! I

have his "Jungle-Book" in raised print, and what a splendid,

refreshing book it is! I cannot help feeling as if I knew its

gifted author. What a real, manly, lovable nature his must be!...

TO DR. DAVID H. GREER

12 Newbury Street, Boston,

May 8, 1899....Each day brings me all that I can possibly accomplish, and

each night brings me rest, and the sweet thought that I am a

little nearer to my goal than ever before. My Greek progresses

finely. I have finished the ninth book of the "Iliad" and am just

beginning the "Odyssey." I am also reading the "Aeneid" and the

"Eclogues." Some of my friends tell me that I am very foolish to

give so much time to Greek and Latin; but I am sure they would

not think so, if they realized what a wonderful world of

experience and thought Homer and Virgil have opened up to me. I

think I shall enjoy the "Odyssey" most of all. The "Iliad" tells

of almost nothing but war, and one sometimes wearies of the clash

of spears and the din of battle; but the "Odyssey" tells of

nobler courage—the courage of a soul sore tried, but steadfast

to the end. I often wonder, as I read these splendid poems why,

at the same time that Homer's songs of war fired the Greeks with

valor, his songs of manly virtue did not have a stronger

influence upon the spiritual life of the people. Perhaps the

reason is, that thoughts truly great are like seeds cast into the

human mind, and either lie there unnoticed, or are tossed about

and played with, like toys, until, grown wise through suffering

and experience, a race discovers and cultivates them. Then the

world has advanced one step in its heavenward march.

I am working very hard just now. I intend to take my examinations

in June, and there is a great deal to be done, before I shall

feel ready to meet the ordeal....

You will be glad to hear that my mother, and little sister and

brother are coming north to spend this summer with me. We shall

all live together in a small cottage on one of the lakes at

Wrentham, while my dear teacher takes a much needed rest. She has

not had a vacation for twelve years, think of it, and all that

time she has been the sunshine of my life. Now her eyes are

troubling her a great deal, and we all think she ought to be

relieved, for a while, of every care and responsibility. But we

shall not be quite separated; we shall see each other every day,

I hope. And, when July comes, you can think of me as rowing my

dear ones around the lovely lake in the little boat you gave me,

the happiest girl in the world!...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

[Boston] May 28th 1899....We have had a hard day. Mr. Keith was here for three hours

this afternoon, pouring a torrent of Latin and Greek into my poor

bewildered brain. I really believe he knows more Latin and Greek

Grammar than Cicero or Homer ever dreamed of! Cicero is splendid,

but his orations are very difficult to translate. I feel ashamed

sometimes, when I make that eloquent man say what sounds absurd

or insipid; but how is a school-girl to interpret such genius?

Why, I should have to be a Cicero to talk like a Cicero!...

Linnie Haguewood is a deaf-blind girl, one of the many whom Mr.

William Wade has helped. She is being educated by Miss Dora

Donald who, at the beginning of her work with her pupil, was

supplied by Mr. Hitz, Superintendent of the Volta Bureau, with

copies of all documents relating to Miss Sullivan's work with

Miss Keller.

TO MR. WILLIAM WADE

Wrentham, Mass., June 5, 1899....Linnie Haguewood's letter, which you sent me some weeks ago,

interested me very much. It seemed to show spontaneity and great

sweetness of character. I was a good deal amused by what she said

about history. I am sorry she does not enjoy it; but I too feel

sometimes how dark, and mysterious and even fearful the history

of old peoples, old religions and old forms of government really

is.

Well, I must confess, I do not like the sign-language, and I do

not think it would be of much use to the deaf-blind. I find it

very difficult to follow the rapid motions made by the

deaf-mutes, and besides, signs seem a great hindrance to them in

acquiring the power of using language easily and freely. Why, I

find it hard to understand them sometimes when they spell on

their fingers. On the whole, if they cannot be taught

articulation, the manual alphabet seems the best and most

convenient means of communication. At any rate, I am sure the

deaf-blind cannot learn to use signs with any degree of facility.

The other day, I met a deaf Norwegian gentleman, who knows

Ragnhild Kaata and her teacher very well, and we had a very

interesting conversation about her. He said she was very

industrious and happy. She spins, and does a great deal of fancy

work, and reads, and leads a pleasant, useful life. Just think,

she cannot use the manual alphabet! She reads the lips well, and

if she cannot understand a phrase, her friends write it in her

hand, and in this way she converses with strangers. I cannot make

out anything written in my hand, so you see, Ragnhild has got

ahead of me in some things. I do hope I shall see her sometime...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

Wrentham, July 29, 1899....I passed in all the subjects I offered, and with credit in

advanced Latin.... But I must confess, I had a hard time on the

second day of my examinations. They would not allow Teacher to

read any of the papers to me; so the papers were copied for me in

braille. This arrangement worked very well in the languages, but

not nearly so well in the Mathematics. Consequently, I did not do

so well as I should have done, if Teacher had been allowed to

read the Algebra and Geometry to me. But you must not think I

blame any one. Of course they did not realize how difficult and

perplexing they were making the examinations for me. How could

they—they can see and hear, and I suppose they could not

understand matters from my point of view....

Thus far my summer has been sweeter than anything I can remember.

My mother, and sister and little brother have been here five

weeks, and our happiness knows no bounds. Not only do we enjoy

being together; but we also find our little home most delightful.

I do wish you could see the view of the beautiful lake from our

piazza, the islands looking like little emerald peaks in the

golden sunlight, and the canoes flitting here and there, like

autumn leaves in the gentle breeze, and breathe in the peculiarly

delicious fragrance of the woods, which comes like a murmur from

an unknown clime. I cannot help wondering if it is the same

fragrance that greeted the Norsemen long ago, when, according to

tradition, they visited our shores—an odorous echo of many

centuries of silent growth and decay in flower and tree....

TO MRS. SAMUEL RICHARD FULLER

Wrentham, October 20, 1899....I suppose it is time for me to tell you something about our

plans for the winter. You know it has long been my ambition to go

to Radcliffe, and receive a degree, as many other girls have

done; but Dean Irwin of Radcliffe, has persuaded me to take a

special course for the present. She said I had already shown the

world that I could do the college work, by passing all my

examinations successfully, in spite of many obstacles. She showed

me how very foolish it would be for me to pursue a four years'

course of study at Radcliffe, simply to be like other girls, when

I might better be cultivating whatever ability I had for writing.

She said she did not consider a degree of any real value, but

thought it was much more desirable to do something original than

to waste one's energies only for a degree. Her arguments seemed

so wise and practical, that I could not but yield. I found it

hard, very hard, to give up the idea of going to college; it had

been in my mind ever since I was a little girl; but there is no

use doing a foolish thing, because one has wanted to do it a long

time, is there?

But, while we were discussing plans for the winter, a suggestion

which Dr. Hale had made long ago flashed across Teacher's

mind—that I might take courses somewhat like those offered at

Radcliffe, under the instruction of the professors in these

courses. Miss Irwin seemed to have no objection to this proposal,

and kindly offered to see the professors and find out if they

would give me lessons. If they will be so good as to teach me and

if we have money enough to do as we have planned, my studies this

year will be English, English Literature of the Elizabethan

period, Latin and German....

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

138 Brattle St., Cambridge,

Nov. 11, 1899....As to the braille question, I cannot tell how deeply it

distresses me to hear that my statement with regard to the

examinations has been doubted. Ignorance seems to be at the

bottom of all these contradictions. Why, you yourself seem to

think that I taught you American braille, when you do not know a

single letter in the system! I could not help laughing when you

said you had been writing to me in American braille—and there

you were writing your letter in English braille!

The facts about the braille examinations are as follows:

How I passed my Entrance Examinations for Radcliffe College.

On the 29th and 30th of June, 1899, I took my examinations for

Radcliffe College. The first day I had elementary Greek and

advanced Latin, and the second day Geometry, Algebra and advanced

Greek.

The college authorities would not permit Miss Sullivan to read

the examination papers to me; so Mr. Eugene C. Vining, one of the

instructors at the Perkins Institution for the Blind, was

employed to copy the papers for me in braille. Mr. 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.

However, the braille worked well enough in the languages; but

when it came to Geometry and Algebra, it was different. I was

sorely perplexed, and felt quite discouraged, and wasted much

precious time, especially in Algebra. It is true that I am

perfectly familiar with all literary braille—English, American,

and New York Point; but the method of writing the various signs

used in Geometry and Algebra in the three systems is very

different, and two days before the examinations I knew only the

English method. I had used it all through my school work, and

never any other system.

In Geometry, my chief difficulty was, that I had always been

accustomed to reading the propositions in Line Print, or having

them spelled into my hand; and somehow, although the propositions

were right before me, yet the braille confused me, and I could

not fix in my mind clearly what I was reading. But, when I took

up Algebra, I had a harder time still—I was terribly handicapped

by my imperfect knowledge of the notation. The signs, which I had

learned the day before, and which I thought I knew perfectly,

confused me. Consequently my work was painfully slow, and I was

obliged to read the examples over and over before I could form a

clear idea what I was required to do. Indeed, I am not sure now

that I read all the signs correctly, especially as I was much

distressed, and found it very hard to keep my wits about me....

Now there is one more fact, which I wish to state very plainly,

in regard to what Mr. Gilman wrote to you. I never received any

direct instruction in the Gilman School. Miss Sullivan always sat

beside me, and told me what the teachers said. 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. Dear

Frau Grote learned the manual alphabet, and used to teach me

herself; but this was in private lessons, which were paid for by

my friends. In the German class Miss Sullivan interpreted to me

as well as she could what the teacher said.

Perhaps, if you would send a copy of this to the head of the

Cambridge School, it might enlighten his mind on a few subjects,

on which he seems to be in total darkness just now....

TO MISS MILDRED KELLER

138 Brattle Street, Cambridge,

November 26, 1899....At last we are settled for the winter, and our work is going

smoothly. Mr. Keith comes every afternoon at four o'clock, and

gives me a "friendly lift" over the rough stretches of road, over

which every student must go. I am studying English history,

English literature, French and Latin, and by and by I shall take

up German and English composition—let us groan! You know, I

detest grammar as much as you do; but I suppose I must go through

it if I am to write, just as we had to get ducked in the lake

hundreds of times before we could swim! In French Teacher is

reading "Columba" to me. It is a delightful novel, full of

piquant expressions and thrilling adventures, (don't dare to

blame me for using big words, since you do the same!) and, if you

ever read it, I think you will enjoy it immensely. You are

studying English history, aren't you. O but it's exceedingly

interesting! I'm making quite a thorough study of the Elizabethan

period—of the Reformation, and the Acts of Supremacy and

Conformity, and the maritime discoveries, and all the big things,

which the "deuce" seems to have invented to plague innocent

youngsters like yourself!...

Now we have a swell winter outfit—coats, hats, gowns, flannels

and all. We've just had four lovely dresses made by a French

dressmaker. I have two, of which one has a black silk skirt, with

a black lace net over it, and a waist of white poplin, with

turquoise velvet and chiffon, and cream lace over a satin yoke.

The other is woollen, and of a very pretty green. The waist is

trimmed with pink and green brocaded velvet, and white lace, I

think, and has double reefers on the front, tucked and trimmed

with velvet, and also a row of tiny white buttons. Teacher too

has a silk dress. The skirt is black, while the waist is mostly

yellow, trimmed with delicate lavender chiffon, and black velvet

bows and lace. Her other dress is purple, trimmed with purple

velvet, and the waist has a collar of cream lace. So you may

imagine that we look quite like peacocks, only we've no

trains....

A week ago yesterday there was [a] great football game between

Harvard and Yale, and there was tremendous excitement here. We

could hear the yells of the boys and the cheers of the lookers-on

as plainly in our room as if we had been on the field. Colonel

Roosevelt was there, on Harvard's side; but bless you, he wore a

white sweater, and no crimson that we know of! There were about

twenty-five thousand people at the game, and, when we went out,

the noise was so terrific, we nearly jumped out of our skins,

thinking it was the din of war, and not of a football game that

we heard. But, in spite of all their wild efforts, neither side

was scored, and we all laughed and said, "Oh, well now the pot

can't call the kettle black!"...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

559 Madison Avenue, New York,

January 2, 1900....We have been here a week now, and are going to stay with Miss

Rhoades until Saturday. We are enjoying every moment of our

visit, every one is so good to us. We have seen many of our old

friends, and made some new ones. We dined with the Rogers last

Friday, and oh, they were so kind to us! The thought of their

gentle courtesy and genuine kindness brings a warm glow of joy

and gratitude to my heart. I have seen Dr. Greer too. He has such

a kind heart! I love him more than ever. We went to St.

Bartholomew's Sunday, and I have not felt so much at home in a

church since dear Bishop Brooks died. Dr. Greer read so slowly,

that my teacher could tell me every word. His people must have

wondered at his unusual deliberation. After the service he asked

Mr. Warren, the organist to play for me. I stood in the middle of

the church, where the vibrations from the great organ were

strongest, and I felt the mighty waves of sound beat against me,

as the great billows beat against a little ship at sea.

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

138 Brattle Street, Cambridge,

Feb. 3, 1900....My studies are more interesting than ever. In Latin, I am

reading Horace's odes. Although I find them difficult to

translate, yet I think they are the loveliest pieces of Latin

poetry I have read or shall ever read. In French we have finished

"Colomba," and I am reading "Horace" by Corneille and La

Fontaine's fables, both of which are in braille. I have not gone

far in either; but I know I shall enjoy the fables, they are so

delightfully written, and give such good lessons in a simple and

yet attractive way. I do not think I have told you that my dear

teacher is reading "The Faery Queen" to me. I am afraid I find

fault with the poem as much as I enjoy it. I do not care much for

the allegories, indeed I often find them tiresome, and I cannot

help thinking that Spenser's world of knights, paynims, fairies,

dragons and all sorts of strange creatures is a somewhat

grotesque and amusing world; but the poem itself is lovely and as

musical as a running brook.

I am now the proud owner of about fifteen new books, which we

ordered from Louisville. Among them are "Henry Esmond," "Bacon's

Essays" and extracts from "English Literature." Perhaps next week

I shall have some more books, "The Tempest," "A Midsummer Night's

Dream" and possibly some selections from Green's history of

England. Am I not very fortunate?

I am afraid this letter savors too much of books—but really they

make up my whole life these days, and I scarcely see or hear of

anything else! I do believe I sleep on books every night! You

know a student's life is of necessity somewhat circumscribed and

narrow and crowds out almost everything that is not in books....

TO THE CHAIRMAN OF THE ACADEMIC BOARD OF RADCLIFFE COLLEGE

138 Brattle Street, Cambridge, Mass.,

May 5, 1900.

Dear Sir:

As an aid to me in determining my plans for study the coming

year, I apply to you for information as to the possibility of my

taking the regular courses in Radcliffe College.

Since receiving my certificate of admission to Radcliffe last

July, I have been studying with a private tutor, Horace,

Aeschylus, French, German, Rhetoric, English History, English

Literature and Criticism, and English composition.

In college I should wish to continue most, if not all of these

subjects. The conditions under which I work require the presence

of Miss Sullivan, who has been my teacher and companion for

thirteen years, as an interpreter of oral speech and as a reader

of examination papers. In college she, or possibly in some

subjects some one else, would of necessity be with me in the

lecture-room and at recitations. I should do all my written work

on a typewriter, and if a Professor could not understand my

speech, I could write out my answers to his questions and hand

them to him after the recitation.

Is it possible for the College to accommodate itself to these

unprecedented conditions, so as to enable me to pursue my studies

at Radcliffe? I realize that the obstacles in the way of my

receiving a college education are very great—to others they may

seem insurmountable; but, dear Sir, a true soldier does not

acknowledge defeat before the battle.

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

38 Brattle Street, Cambridge,

June 9, 1900....I have not yet heard from the Academic Board in reply to my

letter; but I sincerely hope they will answer favorably. My

friends think it very strange that they should hesitate so long,

especially when I have not asked them to simplify my work in the

least, but only to modify it so as to meet the existing

circumstances. Cornell has offered to make arrangements suited to

the conditions under which I work, if I should decide to go to

that college, and the University of Chicago has made a similar

offer, but I am afraid if I went to any other college, it would

be thought that I did not pass my examinations for Radcliffe

satisfactorily....

In the fall Miss Keller entered Radcliffe College.

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

14 Coolidge Ave., Cambridge,

Nov. 26, 1900....—has already communicated with you in regard to her and my

plan of establishing an institution for deaf and blind children.

At first I was most enthusiastic in its support, and I never

dreamed that any grave objections could be raised except indeed

by those who are hostile to Teacher, but now, after thinking most

SERIOUSLY and consulting my friends, I have decided that—'s

plan is by no means feasible. In my eagerness to make it possible

for deaf and blind children to have the same advantages that I

have had, I quite forgot that there might be many obstacles in

the way of my accomplishing anything like what—proposed.

My friends thought we might have one or two pupils in our own

home, thereby securing to me the advantage of being helpful to

others without any of the disadvantages of a large school. They

were very kind; but I could not help feeling that they spoke more

from a business than a humanitarian point of view. I am sure they

did not quite understand how passionately I desire that all who

are afflicted like myself shall receive their rightful

inheritance of thought, knowledge and love. Still I could not

shut my eyes to the force and weight of their arguments, and I

saw plainly that I must abandon—'s scheme as impracticable.

They also said that I ought to appoint an advisory committee to

control my affairs while I am at Radcliffe. I considered this

suggestion carefully, then I told Mr. Rhoades that I should be

proud and glad to have wise friends to whom I could always turn

for advice in all important matters. For this committee I chose

six, my mother, Teacher, because she is like a mother to me, Mrs.

Hutton, Mr. Rhoades, Dr. Greer and Mr. Rogers, because it is they

who have supported me all these years and made it possible for me

to enter college. Mrs. Hutton had already written to mother,

asking her to telegraph if she was willing for me to have other

advisers besides herself and Teacher. This morning we received

word that mother had given her consent to this arrangement. Now

it remains for me to write to Dr. Greer and Mr. Rogers....

We had a long talk with Dr. Bell. Finally he proposed a plan

which delighted us all beyond words. He said that it was a

gigantic blunder to attempt to found a school for deaf and blind

children, because then they would lose the most precious

opportunities of entering into the fuller, richer, freer life of

seeing and hearing children. I had had misgivings on this point;

but I could not see how we were to help it. However Mr. Bell

suggested that—and all her friends who are interested in her

scheme should organize an association for the promotion of the

education of the deaf and blind, Teacher and myself being

included of course. Under his plan they were to appoint Teacher

to train others to instruct deaf and blind children in their own

homes, just as she had taught me. Funds were to be raised for the

teachers' lodgings and also for their salaries. At the same time

Dr. Bell added that I could rest content and fight my way through

Radcliffe in competition with seeing and hearing girls, while the

great desire of my heart was being fulfilled. We clapped our

hands and shouted;—went away beaming with pleasure, and

Teacher and I felt more light of heart than we had for sometime.

Of course we can do nothing just now; but the painful anxiety

about my college work and the future welfare of the deaf and

blind has been lifted from our minds. Do tell me what you think

about Dr. Bell's suggestion. It seems most practical and wise to

me; but I must know all that there is to be known about it before

I speak or act in the matter....

TO MR. JOHN D. WRIGHT

Cambridge, December 9, 1900.

Do you think me a villain and—I can't think of a word bad enough

to express your opinion of me, unless indeed horse-thief will

answer the purpose. Tell me truly, do you think me as bad as

that? I hope not; for I have thought many letters to you which

never got on paper, and I am delighted to get your good letter,

yes, I really was, and I intended to answer it immediately, but

the days slip by unnoticed when one is busy, and I have been VERY

busy this fall. You must believe that. Radcliffe girls are always

up to their ears in work. If you doubt it, you'd better come and

see for yourself.

Yes, I am taking the regular college course for a degree. When I

am a B.A., I suppose you will not dare call me a villain! I am

studying English—Sophomore English, if you please, (though I

can't see that it is different from just plain English) German,

French and History. I'm enjoying my work even more than I

expected to, which is another way of saying that I'm glad I came.

It is hard, very hard at times; but it hasn't swamped me yet. No,

I am not studying Mathematics, or Greek or Latin either. The

courses at Radcliffe are elective, only certain courses in

English are prescribed. I passed off my English and advanced

French before I entered college, and I choose the courses I like

best. I don't however intend to give up Latin and Greek entirely.

Perhaps I shall take up these studies later; but I've said

goodbye to Mathematics forever, and I assure you, I was delighted

to see the last of those horrid goblins! I hope to obtain my

degree in four years; but I'm not very particular about that.

There's no great hurry, and I want to get as much as possible out

of my studies. Many of my friends would be well pleased if I

would take two or even one course a year, but I rather object to

spending the rest of my life in college....

TO MR. WILLIAM WADE

14 Coolidge Avenue, Cambridge,

December 9, 1900....Since you are so much interested in the deaf and blind, I will

begin by telling you of several cases I have come across lately.

Last October I heard of an unusually bright little girl in Texas.

Her name is Ruby Rice, and she is thirteen years old, I think.

She has never been taught; but they say she can sew and likes to

help others in this sort of work. Her sense of smell is

wonderful. Why, when she enters a store, she will go straight to

the showcases, and she can also distinguish her own things. Her

parents are very anxious indeed to find a teacher for her. They

have also written to Mr. Hitz about her.

I also know a child at the Institution for the Deaf in

Mississippi. Her name is Maud Scott, and she is six years old.

Miss Watkins, the lady who has charge of her wrote me a most

interesting letter. She said that Maud was born deaf and lost her

sight when she was only three months old, and that when she went

to the Institution a few weeks ago, she was quite helpless. She

could not even walk and had very little use of her hands. When

they tried to teach her to string beads, her little hands fell to

her side. Evidently her sense of touch has not been developed,

and as yet she can walk only when she holds some one's hand; but

she seems to be an exceedingly bright child. Miss Watkins adds

that she is very pretty. I have written to her that when Maud

learns to read, I shall have many stories to send her. The dear,

sweet little girl, it makes my heart ache to think how utterly

she is cut off from all that is good and desirable in life. But

Miss Watkins seems to be just the kind of teacher she needs.

I was in New York not long ago and I saw Miss Rhoades, who told

me that she had seen Katie McGirr. She said the poor young girl

talked and acted exactly like a little child. Katie played with

Miss Rhoades's rings and took them away, saying with a merry

laugh, "You shall not have them again!" She could only understand

Miss Rhoades when she talked about the simplest things. The

latter wished to send her some books; but she could not find

anything simple enough for her! She said Katie was very sweet

indeed, but sadly in need of proper instruction. I was much

surprised to hear all this; for I judged from your letters that

Katie was a very precocious girl....

A few days ago I met Tommy Stringer in the railroad station at

Wrentham. He is a great, strong boy now, and he will soon need a

man to take care of him; he is really too big for a lady to

manage. He goes to the public school, I hear, and his progress is

astonishing, they say; but it doesn't show as yet in his

conversation, which is limited to "Yes" and "No."...

TO MR. CHARLES T. COPELAND

December 20, 1900.

My dear Mr. Copeland;

I venture to write to you because I am afraid that if I do not

explain why I have stopped writing themes, you will think I have

become discouraged, or perhaps that to escape criticism I have

beat a cowardly retreat from your class. Please do not think

either of these very unpleasant thoughts. I am not discouraged,

nor am I afraid. I am confident that I could go on writing themes

like those I have written, and I suppose I should get through the

course with fairly good marks; but this sort of literary

patch-work has lost all interest for me. I have never been

satisfied with my work; but I never knew what my difficulty was

until you pointed it out to me. When I came to your class last

October, I was trying with all my might to be like everybody

else, to forget as entirely as possible my limitations and

peculiar environment. Now, however, I see the folly of attempting

to hitch one's wagon to a star with harness that does not belong

to it.

I have always accepted other peoples experiences and observations

as a matter of course. It never occurred to me that it might be

worth while to make my own observations and describe the

experiences peculiarly my own. Henceforth I am resolved to be

myself, to live my own life and write my own thoughts when I have

any. When I have written something that seems to be fresh and

spontaneous and worthy of your criticisms, I will bring it to

you, if I may, and if you think it good, I shall be happy; but if

your verdict is unfavorable, I shall try again and yet again

until I have succeeded in pleasing you...

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

14 Coolidge Avenue, Cambridge,

December 27, 1900....So you read about our class luncheon in the papers? How in the

world do the papers find out everything, I wonder. I am sure no

reporter was present. I had a splendid time; the toasts and

speeches were great fun. I only spoke a few words, as I did not

know I was expected to speak until a few minutes before I was

called upon. I think I wrote you that I had been elected

Vice-President of the Freshman Class of Radcliffe.

Did I tell you in my last letter that I had a new dress, a real

party dress with low neck and short sleeves and quite a train? It

is pale blue, trimmed with chiffon of the same color. I have worn

it only once, but then I felt that Solomon in all his glory was

not to be compared with me! Anyway, he certainly never had a

dress like mine!...

A gentleman in Philadelphia has just written to my teacher about

a deaf and blind child in Paris, whose parents are Poles. The

mother is a physician and a brilliant woman, he says. This little

boy could speak two or three languages before he lost his hearing

through sickness, and he is now only about five years old. Poor

little fellow, I wish I could do something for him; but he is so

young, my teacher thinks it would be too bad to separate him from

his mother. I have had a letter from Mrs. Thaw with regard to the

possibility of doing something for these children. Dr. Bell

thinks the present census will show that there are more than a

thousand in the United States alone [The number of deaf-blind

young enough to be benefited by education is not so large as

this; but the education of this class of defectives has been

neglected.]; and Mrs. Thaw thinks if all my friends were to unite

their efforts, "it would be an easy matter to establish at the

beginning of this new century a new line upon which mercy might

travel," and the rescue of these unfortunate children could be

accomplished....

TO MR. WILLIAM WADE

Cambridge, February 2, 1901....By the way, have you any specimens of English braille

especially printed for those who have lost their sight late in

life or have fingers hardened by long toil, so that their touch

is less sensitive than that of other blind people? I read an

account of such a system in one of my English magazines, and I am

anxious to know more about it. If it is as efficient as they say,

I see no reason why English braille should not be adopted by the

blind of all countries. Why, it is the print that can be most

readily adapted to many different languages. Even Greek can be

embossed in it, as you know. Then, too, it will be rendered still

more efficient by the "interpointing system," which will save an

immense amount of space and paper. There is nothing more absurd,

I think, than to have five or six different prints for the

blind....

This letter was written in response to a tentative offer from the

editor of The Great Round World to have the magazine published in

raised type for the blind, if enough were willing to subscribe.

It is evident that the blind should have a good magazine, not a

special magazine for the blind, but one of our best monthlies,

printed in embossed letters. The blind alone could not support

it, but it would not take very much money to make up the

additional expense.

To THE GREAT ROUND WORLD

Cambridge, Feb. 16, 1901.

The Great Round World,

New York City.

Gentlemen: I have only to-day found time to reply to your

interesting letter. A little bird had already sung the good news

in my ear; but it was doubly pleasant to have it straight from

you.

It would be splendid to have The Great Round World printed in

"language that can be felt." I doubt if any one who enjoys the

wondrous privilege of seeing can have any conception of the boon

such a publication as you contemplate would be to the sightless.

To be able to read for one's self what is being willed, thought

and done in the world—the world in whose joys and sorrows,

failures and successes one feels the keenest interest—that would

indeed be a happiness too deep for words. I trust that the effort

of The Great Round World to bring light to those who sit in

darkness will receive the encouragement and support it so richly

deserves.

I doubt, however, if the number of subscribers to an embossed

edition of The Great Round World would ever be large; for I am

told that the blind as a class are poor. But why should not the

friends of the blind assist The Great Round World, if necessary?

Surely there are hearts and hands ever ready to make it possible

for generous intentions to be wrought into noble deeds.

Wishing you godspeed in an undertaking that is very dear to my

heart, I am, etc.

TO MISS NINA RHOADES

Cambridge, Sept. 25, 1901....We remained in Halifax until about the middle of August....

Day after day the Harbor, the warships, and the park kept us busy

thinking and feeling and enjoying.... When the Indiana visited

Halifax, we were invited to go on board, and she sent her own

launch for us. I touched the immense cannon, read with my fingers

several of the names of the Spanish ships that were captured at

Santiago, and felt the places where she had been pierced with

shells. The Indiana was the largest and finest ship in the

Harbor, and we felt very proud of her.

After we left Halifax, we visited Dr. Bell at Cape Breton. He has

a charming, romantic house on a mountain called Beinn Bhreagh,

which overlooks the Bras d'Or Lake....

Dr. Bell told me many interesting things about his work. He had

just constructed a boat that could be propelled by a kite with

the wind in its favor, and one day he tried experiments to see if

he could steer the kite against the wind. I was there and really

helped him fly the kites. On one of them I noticed that the

strings were of wire, and having had some experience in bead

work, I said I thought they would break. Dr. Bell said "No!" with

great confidence, and the kite was sent up. It began to pull and

tug, and lo, the wires broke, and off went the great red dragon,

and poor Dr. Bell stood looking forlornly after it. After that he

asked me if the strings were all right and changed them at once

when I answered in the negative. Altogether we had great fun....

TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE [Read by Dr. Hale at the celebration

of the centenary of Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, at Tremont Temple,

Boston, Nov. 11, 1901.]

Cambridge, Nov. 10, 1901.

My teacher and I expect to be present at the meeting tomorrow in

commemoration of the one hundredth anniversary of Dr. Howe's

birth; but I very much doubt if we shall have an opportunity to

speak with you; so I am writing now to tell you how delighted I

am that you are to speak at the meeting, because I feel that you,

better than any one I know will express the heartfelt gratitude

of those who owe their education, their opportunities, their

happiness to him who opened the eyes of the blind and gave the

dumb lip language.

Sitting here in my study, surrounded by my books, enjoying the

sweet and intimate companionship of the great and the wise, I am

trying to realize what my life might have been, if Dr. Howe had

failed in the great task God gave him to perform. If he had not

taken upon himself the responsibility of Laura Bridgman's

education and led her out of the pit of Acheron back to her human

inheritance, should I be a sophomore at Radcliffe College

to-day—who can say? But it is idle to speculate about what might

have been in connection with Dr. Howe's great achievement.

I think only those who have escaped that death-in-life existence,

from which Laura Bridgman was rescued, can realize how isolated,

how shrouded in darkness, how cramped by its own impotence is a

soul without thought or faith or hope. Words are powerless to

describe the desolation of that prison-house, or the joy of the

soul that is delivered out of its captivity. When we compare the

needs and helplessness of the blind before Dr. Howe began his

work, with their present usefulness and independence, we realize

that great things have been done in our midst. What if physical

conditions have built up high walls about us? Thanks to our

friend and helper, our world lies upward; the length and breadth

and sweep of the heavens are ours!

It is pleasant to think that Dr. Howe's noble deeds will receive

their due tribute of affection and gratitude, in the city, which

was the scene of his great labors and splendid victories for

humanity.

With kind greetings, in which my teacher joins me, I am

Affectionately your friend,

HELEN KELLER.

TO THE HON. GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR

Cambridge, Mass., November 25, 1901.

My Dear Senator Hoar:—

I am glad you liked my letter about Dr. Howe. It was written out

of my heart, and perhaps that is why it met a sympathetic

response in other hearts. I will ask Dr. Hale to lend me the

letter, so that I can make a copy of it for you.

You see, I use a typewriter—it is my right hand man, so to

speak. Without it I do not see how I could go to college. I write

all my themes and examinations on it, even Greek. Indeed, it has

only one drawback, and that probably is regarded as an advantage

by the professors; it is that one's mistakes may be detected at a

glance; for there is no chance to hide them in illegible writing.

I know you will be amused when I tell you that I am deeply

interested in politics. I like to have the papers read to me, and

I try to understand the great questions of the day; but I am

afraid my knowledge is very unstable; for I change my opinions

with every new book I read. I used to think that when I studied

Civil Government and Economics, all my difficulties and

perplexities would blossom into beautiful certainties; but alas,

I find that there are more tares than wheat in these fertile

fields of knowledge....