obedience is the gateway through which knowledge, yes, and love,
too, enter the mind of the child. As I wrote you, I meant to go
slowly at first. I had an idea that I could win the love and
confidence of my little pupil by the same means that I should use
if she could see and hear. But I soon found that I was cut off
from all the usual approaches to the child's heart. She accepted
everything I did for her as a matter of course, and refused to be
caressed, and there was no way of appealing to her affection or
sympathy or childish love of approbation. She would or she
wouldn't, and there was an end of it. Thus it is, we study, plan
and prepare ourselves for a task, and when the hour for action
arrives, we find that the system we have followed with such
labour and pride does not fit the occasion; and then there's
nothing for us to do but rely on something within us, some innate
capacity for knowing and doing, which we did not know we
possessed until the hour of our great need brought it to light.

I had a good, frank talk with Mrs. Keller, and explained to her
how difficult it was going to be to do anything with Helen under
the existing circumstances. I told her that in my opinion the
child ought to be separated from the family for a few weeks at
least--that she must learn to depend on and obey me before I
could make any headway. After a long time Mrs. Keller said that
she would think the matter over and see what Captain Keller
thought of sending Helen away with me. Captain Keller fell in
with the scheme most readily and suggested that the little
garden-house at the "old place" be got ready for us. He said that
Helen might recognize the place, as she had often been there, but
she would have no idea of her surroundings, and they could come
every day to see that all was going well, with the understanding,