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Phil called Dot his little wife, and he often invited her to take a walk with him. When Dot was not busy she went with him. In the beautiful springtime Dot laid five white eggs and sat on them till the wee birds crept out. Dot and Phil were as happy as they could be, and so proud of their little family! Pearl put crumbs enough for all beside the nest, which pleased Mother Dot very much. Then she would sit down beside the cage and watch the mother-pigeon, patiently teaching the little ones to eat. One morning Pearl heard one of the small pigeons say, "Oh, mamma, where do these nice crumbs come from?" The mother-pigeon replied: "Pearl, a kind-hearted little girl, puts them here." "Why," said the foolish little thing, "I am surprised to know it." Pearl often heard the mother-bird putting her little family to sleep; and she would say to her darling baby brother: "Listen, dear! I hear the mother-pigeon cooing softly to her little ones." HELEN A. KELLER.

It is her loving and sympathetic heart, rather than her bright intellect, which endears Helen to everybody with whom she comes in contact. She impresses me every day as being the happiest child in the world, and so it is a special privilege to be with her. The spirit of love and joyousness seems never to leave her. May it ever be so! It is beautiful to think of a nature so gentle, pure and loving as Helen's. It is pleasant also to think that she will ever see only the noblest side of every human being. While near her the roughest man is all gentleness, all pity. Not for the world would he have her know that he is aught but good and kind to everyone. So we see, pathetic as little Helen's life must always seem to those who enjoy the blessings of sight and hearing, that it is yet full of brightness and cheer and courage and hope.

Here is a paragraph which proves how her childish affections enter into her earliest efforts at story-telling.

WILLIE AND HIS SISTER.

ONCE there was a beautiful little boy named Willie; and he had a sweet sister, younger than himself, who always loved to play with Willie. Her name was Dolly. The children looked very pretty together. The little boy had bright golden ringlets and roguish blue eyes and two round cheeks. They were as rosy as red apples. The little girl had long brown curls, large brown eyes, and a most fair and beautiful complexion. Sometimes the children would walk out together, and look at the little birds, hopping about their nests. They would fill their white aprons with the fragrant flowers, and run gayly to the house to give them to precious mamma.

A letter written to her French teacher takes the form of a story, and indicates at once the sensitive and philosophic character of Helen's mind. TUSCUMBIA, ALA., May 17, 1889.

MY DEAR MISS MARRETT: -- I am thinking about a dear little girl, who wept very hard. She wept because her brother teased her very much. I will tell you what he did, and I think you will feel very sorry for the little child. She had a most beautiful doll given her. Oh, it was a lovely and delicate doll! but the little girl's brother, a tall lad, had taken the doll, and set it up in a high tree in the garden, and had run away. The little girl could not reach the doll, and could not help it down, and therefore she cried. The doll cried, too, and stretched out its arms from among the green branches, and looked distressed. Soon the dismal night would come, -- and was the doll to sit up in the tree all night, and by herself? The little girl could not endure that thought. "I will stay with you," said she to the doll, although she was not at all courageous. Already she began to see quite plainly the little elves in their tall pointed hats, dancing down the dusky alleys, and peeping from between the bushes, and they seemed to come nearer and nearer; and she stretched her hands up towards the tree in which the doll sat, and they laughed, and pointed their fingers at her. How terrified was the little girl; but if one has not done anything wrong, these strange little elves cannot harm one. "Have I done anything wrong? Ah, yes!" said the little girl. "I have laughed at the poor duck, with the red rag tied round its leg. It hobbled, and that made me laugh; but it is wrong to laugh at the poor animals! "

Is it not a pitiful story? I hope the father punished the naughty little boy. Shall you be very glad to see my teacher next Thursday? She is going home to rest, but she will come back to me next autumn.

Lovingly, your little friend,

HELEN ADAMS KELLER.

In the same tender vein is another sketch, which shows the strength of home ties in my pupil's mind.

SISTER MABEL.

Harry is twelve years old. He has two little sisters, both younger than himself. Mabel is ten and Kitty is five years of age. They live in a beautiful and quiet village, in a far-away Southern country, where the sun shines brightly nearly all the year, and where the little birds fill the air with their glad songs from morning until night, and where each gentle breeze is sweet with the perfume of roses, jasmines and magnolias.