Helen and I came home yesterday. I am sorry they wouldn't let us
stay another week; but I think I have made the most I could of
the opportunities that were mine the past two weeks, and I don't
expect that I shall have any serious trouble with Helen in the
future. The back of the greatest obstacle in the path of progress
is broken. I think "no" and "yes," conveyed by a shake or a nod
of my head, have become facts as apparent to her as hot and cold
or as the difference between pain and pleasure. And I don't
intend that the lesson she has learned at the cost of so much
pain and trouble shall be unlearned. I shall stand between her
and the over-indulgence of her parents. I have told Captain and
Mrs. Keller that they must not interfere with me in any way. I
have done my best to make them see the terrible injustice to
Helen of allowing her to have her way in everything, and I have
pointed out that the processes of teaching the child that
everything cannot be as he wills it, are apt to be painful both
to him and to his teacher. They have promised to let me have a
free hand and help me as much as possible. The improvement they
cannot help seeing in their child has given them more confidence
in me. Of course, it is hard for them. I realize that it hurts to
see their afflicted little child punished and made to do things
against her will. Only a few hours after my talk with Captain and
Mrs. Keller (and they had agreed to everything), Helen took a
notion that she wouldn't use her napkin at table. I think she
wanted to see what would happen. I attempted several times to put
the napkin round her neck; but each time she tore it off and
threw it on the floor and finally began to kick the table. I took
her plate away and started to take her out of the room. Her
father objected and said that no child of his should be deprived
of his food on any account.