He never found time to carry out his purpose. There was always some class of unfortunates who needed his championship, some wrong that must be set right. It is deeply to be regretted that he never had the leisure to tell the story of his most conspicuous achievement. The materials were all at hand. A minute account of Laura’s progress had been kept in the school journals. There were also my father’s own reports, notes and correspondence, as well as Laura’s letters and the journals which she kept for some years. By the desire of our brother-in-law, Michael Anagnos, and with his help, sister Maud and I undertook to carry out our father’s intention and tell the story of Laura Bridgman. Our chief difficulty lay in the wealth of material. We held many consultations, but to my sister belongs the chief credit of the work. My share consisted principally in describing the technical part of Laura’s education. The work was of absorbing interest. In tracing this drama of the birth of a human soul, we felt an echo of the thrill which came to my father when he saw Laura’s face suddenly “lighted up with a human expression: it was no longer a dog or parrot—it was an immortal spirit, eagerly seizing upon a new link of union with other spirits!” No wonder that he exclaimed, “Eureka!” His graphic description of these first wonderful steps is quoted—with due credit to Doctor Howe—in Dickens’ _American Notes_. Since Laura’s was the first case of the sort in the world, it was necessary for my father to devise his own methods. A special teacher was employed for her, several devoted women filling this post in turn. My father always superintended her education, and recorded every step—telling us how he taught her the use of prepositions, adjectives and verbs. An excellent speller herself, in her later years she taught the little blind children how to spell. Laura Bridgman had the pride of intellect, in spite of her infirmities, and was inclined to look down upon people of inferior mind or education. The lessons in conduct which the ordinary child learns from the example of those around him Laura had to learn from books or from conversation with her teacher. Moral, ethical, and later spiritual problems aroused her deep interest. Her writings—and they are many—show a soul as white and innocent as that of a little child. Laura was well trained in the domestic arts. She was an exquisite needlewoman, her darning being a “poem in linen.” She could also knit and crochet extremely well, making the fine beaded purses then in fashion. Indeed, the sale of her handiwork contributed to her own support. She kept her room in beautiful order, dusting the most delicate objects without injury to them. One of Laura’s amusements was to arrange my mother’s bureau drawers. The latter disliked having any one meddle with her things, but Laura’s touch was so delicate that she was allowed thus to officiate as “mistress of the wardrobe.”