Tuscumbia, Alabama, March 11, 1887.

Since I wrote you, Helen and I have gone to live all by ourselves
in a little garden-house about a quarter of a mile from her home,
only a short distance from Ivy Green, the Keller homestead. I
very soon made up my mind that I could do nothing with Helen in
the midst of the family, who have always allowed her to do
exactly as she pleased. She has tyrannized over everybody, her
mother, her father, the servants, the little darkies who play
with her, and nobody had ever seriously disputed her will, except
occasionally her brother James, until I came; and like all
tyrants she holds tenaciously to her divine right to do as she
pleases. If she ever failed to get what she wanted, it was
because of her inability to make the vassals of her household
understand what it was. Every thwarted desire was the signal for
a passionate outburst, and as she grew older and stronger, these
tempests became more violent. As I began to teach her, I was
beset by many difficulties. She wouldn't yield a point without
contesting it to the bitter end. I couldn't coax her or
compromise with her. To get her to do the simplest thing, such as
combing her hair or washing her hands or buttoning her boots, it
was necessary to use force, and, of course, a distressing scene
followed. The family naturally felt inclined to interfere,
especially her father, who cannot bear to see her cry. So they
were all willing to give in for the sake of peace. Besides, her
past experiences and associations were all against me. I saw
clearly that it was useless to try to teach her language or
anything else until she learned to obey me. I have thought about
it a great deal, and the more I think, the more certain I am that