points out prettily her nose, mouth, eye, chin, cheek, ear. If I
say, "Where is baby's other ear?" she points it out correctly. If
I hand her a flower, and say, "Give it to mamma," she takes it to
her mother. If I say, "Where is the little rogue?" she hides
behind her mother's chair, or covers her face with her hands and
peeps out at me with an expression of genuine roguishness. She
obeys many commands like these: "Come," "Kiss," "Go to papa,"
"Shut the door," "Give me the biscuit." But I have not heard her
try to say any of these words, although they have been repeated
hundreds of times in her hearing, and it is perfectly evident
that she understands them. These observations have given me a
clue to the method to be followed in teaching Helen language.I
SHALL TALK INTO HER HAND AS WE TALK INTO THE BABY'S EARS. I shall
assume that she has the normal child's capacity of assimilation
and imitation. I SHALL USE COMPLETE SENTENCES IN TALKING TO HER,
and fill out the meaning with gestures and her descriptive signs
when necessity requires it; but I shall not try to keep her mind
fixed on any one thing. I shall do all I can to interest and
stimulate it, and wait for results.


April 24, 1887.

The new scheme works splendidly. Helen knows the meaning of more
than a hundred words now, and learns new ones daily without the
slightest suspicion that she is performing a most difficult feat.
She learns because she can't help it, just as the bird learns to
fly. But don't imagine that she "talks fluently." Like her baby
cousin, she expresses whole sentences by single words. "Milk,"
with a gesture means, "Give me more milk." "Mother," accompanied