When once Lucy’s work began at the Institute her days were very full. She rose early, gave her simple household orders, and prepared Hugh for the Kindergarten, where she left him while she held her classes. Hugh took his lunch with him, for he stayed at the Kindergarten rather longer than the other children, so as to wait till his mother fetched him. Lucy had explained her peculiar position to the Kindergarten governess, a Miss Foster, and that lady had readily entered into this arrangement. It was a great relief to Lucy to find that Hugh was soon quite happy among his new surroundings, returning home with plenty of wonders to tell, and being always eager for next day’s start. Miss Foster often came to the door to see Lucy and to deliver over her pupil. She was loud in praise of the little boy, confiding to Lucy that his state of mental development was so different from that of too many of her pupils. They had generally been left so much in the care of servants and nurses. “A little one who is generally in the company of its mother, or of somebody who really cares for it, may be said to enjoy all the advantages of kindergarten from its very cradle,” she remarked. “Its education has been going on happily and unconsciously all the while. Its little brain and hands have found occupation in imitating the work or doings it sees. It is not left to gape and stare at the things around—all wonders to it—but it is encouraged to ask questions, and it gets its questions cheerfully and patiently answered.” “I suppose that is a very important item,” said Lucy. “Yes, indeed,” said Miss Foster. “A careless nurse may often answer a question, but she does this snappily, perhaps with a hasty shake or a cross remark that the child is ‘a silly, little worrit.’ That encourages no further inquiry, and the baby-mind often closes over ridiculously wrong impressions, which can only confuse and blur its mind and all its processes.” Lucy smiled. “Yes,” she answered, “I can understand that, for children generally want a second answer to explain the first. I remember Hugh once asked me as we walked past some burial ground what it was used for. I told him ‘to put people’s bodies in when they die.’ He said ‘Oh!’ and walked along quietly, but looking puzzled. I felt sure he had some afterthought, so I said, ‘You have learned what a burial ground is now, Hughie, haven’t you? To put people’s bodies in when they die.’ Hughie snuggled up to me and whispered the confidential question, ‘If they only put their bodies there, what do they do with their heads?’ What an idea he would have carried away if his second question had not been drawn out!” Miss Foster laughed.