She knew the little girl was very different from her brothers and
sisters, but knew not the reason why. The teacher then asked, "Was
there any thing in your mode of life for the months preceding her
birth, that there was not in the corresponding time before the births
of the others?" The mother at first answered decidedly that there was
nothing; but after thinking a few moments said, "Well, there was one,
a very small thing, but that couldn't have had any thing to do with
the matter. One day a peddler came along; and among his books was a
pretty, red-covered poetry book, and I wanted it bad. But my husband
said he couldn't afford it, and the peddler went off. I couldn't get
that book out of my mind; and in the night I took some of my own
money, and travelled on foot to the next town, found the peddler,
bought the book, and got back before morning, and was never missed
from the house. That book was the greatest comfort to me that ever
was. I read it over and over, up to the day my child was born."

Also would come in well here that oft-told story of a pauper named
"Margaret," who was once "set adrift in a village of the county ...
and left to grow up as best she could, and from whom have descended
two hundred criminals. The, whole number of this girl's descendants,
through six generations, is nine hundred; and besides the 'two
hundred' a large number have been idiots, imbeciles, drunkards,
lunatics, and paupers."

Friends, to say nothing of higher motives, would it not be good policy
to educate wisely every girl in the country? Are not mothers, as
child-trainers, in absolute need of true culture? In cases where
families depend on the labor of their girls, perhaps the State would
make a saving even by compensating these families for the loss of such
labor. Perhaps it would be cheaper, even in a pecuniary sense, for the