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She was taken through the art rooms, and placed her hands on every statue and bust. She stood up in a chair to feel the bust of Jupiter, and instantly said, "it is Zeus!" Her hands were placed upon the statue of a little child, and she recited several lines of appropriate poetry. A bust of the child Nero was new to her, but, being told who it was, she replied, "then it was when he was young and innocent." A head of Niobe she did not recognize, because not connected with the familiar group, but, passing her hands carefully over the face, and especially over the lips, said, with sympathy, "this is sorrow!"

Later in the day Miss Marrett of the Institution for the Blind spoke of the work there to the seminary girls in their hall. Helen was on the platform with her teacher, and was told about the audience and the address as it proceeded. Some incidental allusion being made to Dickens's works in raised letters, she wished to ask the students a question, "how did Dickens write?" No one could answer, and she herself answered, "he wrote Ol-iv-er Twist!" When Miss Marrett had finished, Helen suddenly exclaimed, "I would like to make a speech," and, walking to the centre of the platform, addressed her unseen audience in a few remarkable sentences. After thanking them for their kindness to her, she said: "Everything here is so beautiful; the love and goodness of God are written on the walls of nature all around us!" As she said these words with her sightless eyes lifted toward heaven, the eyes of all others were nearly blind with tears.

Perhaps the most striking proof of the keen perception of this child was that, when the people came to bid her good-bye, she knew every one who had been introduced to her before. As she kissed the little girls, she called each by her own name, -- Mary, Edith, Beatrice, Annie, Margaret. In one case of two girls, who looked much alike, others thought she had made a mistake; but she was right and they were wrong.

Of her visit to Andover Helen makes special mention in the following letter, which she wrote to her gentle poet, Dr. Holmes, to thank him for a gift of money that he had sent for little Tommy: --

SOUTH BOSTON, May 27, 1891.

DEAR, GENTLE POET: -- I fear that you will think Helen a very troublesome little girl if she writes to you too often; but how is she to help sending you loving and grateful messages, when you do so much to make her glad? I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I was when Mr. Anagnos told me that you had sent him some money to help educate "Baby Tom." Then I knew that you had not forgotten the dear little child, for the gift brought with it the thought of tender sympathy. I am very sorry to say that Tommy has not learned any words yet. He is the same restless little creature he was when you saw him.

But it is pleasant to think that he is happy and playful in his bright new home, and by and by that strange, wonderful thing teacher calls mind will begin to spread its beautiful wings, and fly away in search of knowledge-land. Words are the mind's wings, are they not?

I have been to Andover since I saw you, and I was greatly interested in all that my friends told me about Phillips Academy, because I knew you had been there, and I felt it was a place dear to you. I tried to imagine my gentle poet when he was a school-boy, and I wondered if it was in Andover he learned the songs of the birds and the secrets of the shy little woodland children. I am sure his heart was always full of music, and in God's beautiful world he must have heard love's sweet replying. When I came home teacher read to me "The School-boy," for it is not in our print.

Did you know that the blind children are going to have their commencement exercises in Tremont Temple, next Tuesday afternoon? I enclose a ticket, hoping that you will come. We shall all be proud and happy to welcome our poet friend. I shall recite about the beautiful cities of sunny Italy. I hope our kind friend Dr. Ellis will come too, and take little Tom in his arms.

With much love and a kiss, from your little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

We close the account of Helen's visit to Andover with the following letter, which she wrote to Miss McKeen, principal of the academy, in acknowledgment of the delightful time which she had enjoyed in the seminary, and of the kindness of the friends whom she had met there.

SOUTH BOSTON, June 10, 1891.

MY DEAR MISS MCKEEN: You must not think that because your little friend has not written to you sooner that she has forgotten you or the beautiful time she had at Abbot Academy. It is only that I have had a great many letters to write, and I knew that you would wait patiently for your letter. Teacher and I often speak of our visit to Andover, and of the kind friends whom we met there. How beautiful it is that when we have enjoyed something very much we can always treasure it in our memories! It seems to me that our minds are like museums, where everything we have known and loved is kept for our enjoyment. And I am sure that the grand museums at Rome and Florence are not nearly so wonderful as the mind-museums which hold our treasures.