discrimination excite in them a desire to know about things. From
the beginning, I HAVE MADE IT A PRACTICE TO ANSWER ALL HELEN'S
QUESTIONS TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY IN A WAY INTELLIGIBLE TO HER,
and at the same time truthfully. "Why should I treat these
questions differently?" I asked myself. I decided that there was
no reason, except my deplorable ignorance of the great facts that
underlie our physical existence. It was no doubt because of this
ignorance that I rushed in where more experienced angels fear to
tread. There isn't a living soul in this part of the world to
whom I can go for advice in this, or indeed, in any other
educational difficulty. The only thing for me to do in a
perplexity is to go ahead, and learn by making mistakes. But in
this case I don't think I made a mistake. I took Helen and my
Botany, "How Plants Grow," up in the tree, where we often go to
read and study, and I told her in simple words the story of
plantlife. I reminded her of the corn, beans and watermelon-seed
she had planted in the spring, and told her that the tall corn in
the garden, and the beans and watermelon vines had grown from
those seeds. I explained how the earth keeps the seeds warm and
moist, until the little leaves are strong enough to push
themselves out into the light and air where they can breathe and
grow and bloom and make more seeds, from which other baby-plants
shall grow. I drew an analogy between plant and animal-life, and
told her that seeds are eggs as truly as hens' eggs and birds'
eggs--that the mother hen keeps her eggs warm and dry until the
little chicks come out. I made her understand that all life comes
from an egg. The mother bird lays her eggs in a nest and keeps
them warm until the birdlings are hatched. The mother fish lays
her eggs where she knows they will be moist and safe, until it is
time for the little fish to come out. I told her that she could