Helen has learned to tell the time at last, and her father is
going to give her a watch for Christmas.

Helen is as eager to have stories told her as any hearing child I
ever knew. She has made me repeat the story of little Red Riding
Hood so often that I believe I could say it backward. She likes
stories that make her cry--I think we all do, it's so nice to
feel sad when you've nothing particular to be sad about. I am
teaching her little rhymes and verses, too. They fix beautiful
thoughts in her memory. I think, too, that they quicken all the
child's faculties, because they stimulate the imagination. Of
course I don't try to explain everything. If I did, there would
be no opportunity for the play of fancy. TOO MUCH EXPLANATION
DIRECTS THE CHILD'S ATTENTION TO WORDS AND SENTENCES, SO THAT HE
FAILS TO GET THE THOUGHT AS A WHOLE. I do not think anyone can
read, or talk for that matter, until he forgets words and
sentences in the technical sense.


January 1, 1888.

It is a great thing to feel that you are of some use in the
world, that you are necessary to somebody. Helen's dependence on
me for almost everything makes me strong and glad.

Christmas week was a very busy one here, too. Helen is invited to
all the children's entertainments, and I take her to as many as I
can. I want her to know children and to be with them as much as
possible. Several little girls have learned to spell on their