has ceased for some moments to spell into her hand, the question
comes inevitably, "What are you talking about?" Thus she picks up
the fragments of the daily intercourse of normal people, so that
her detailed information is singularly full and accurate. She is
a good talker on the little occasional affairs of life.

Much of her knowledge comes to her directly. When she is out
walking she often stops suddenly, attracted by the odour of a bit
of shrubbery. She reaches out and touches the leaves, and the
world of growing things is hers, as truly as it is ours, to enjoy
while she holds the leaves in her fingers and smells the
blossoms, and to remember when the walk is done.

When she is in a new place, especially an interesting place like
Niagara, whoever accompanies her--usually, of course, Miss
Sullivan--is kept busy giving her an idea of visible details.
Miss Sullivan, who knows her pupil's mind, selects from the
passing landscape essential elements, which give a certain
clearness to Miss Keller's imagined view of an outer world that
to our eyes is confused and overloaded with particulars. If her
companion does not give her enough details, Miss Keller asks
questions until she has completed the view to her satisfaction.

She does not see with her eyes, but through the inner faculty to
serve which eyes were given to us. When she returns from a walk
and tells some one about it, her descriptions are accurate and
vivid. A comparative experience drawn from written descriptions
and from her teacher's words has kept her free from errors in her
use of terms of sound and vision. True, her view of life is
highly coloured and full of poetic exaggeration; the universe, as