"Now I will tell you why I write you, and the object is this: I wish to know your opinion respecting changing white scholars for colored ones. I have been for some months past determined if possible during the remaining part of my life to benefit the people of color. I do not dare tell any one of my neighbors anything about the contemplated change in my school and I beg of you, sir, that you will not expose it to any one; for if it was known, I have no reason to expect but it would ruin my present school. Will you be so kind as to write by the next mail and give me your opinion on the subject. "Yours, with greatest respect, "PRUDENCE CRANDALL."[2] This letter shows clearly that Prudence Crandall foresaw that any undertaking of an educational nature in behalf of Negroes would meet with opposition, require personal sacrifices, and demand unfaltering courage and patience. That she was willing to undergo these tests was proved when a young Negro girl applied for admission to the school which she was then conducting for white girls only. This ambitious pupil of color was Sarah Harris, seventeen years old, the daughter of a respectable man who owned a small farm near the village of Canterbury. Sarah had attended the same district school in which the majority of Prudence Crandall's students had received their elementary training and had proved herself a bright scholar and a pious young lady. So deeply impressed was the teacher with this girl's plea and her earnest desire to get a broader education to teach other girls of color, that Prudence Crandall admitted Sarah to her school. The students themselves offered no opposition nor manifested any objection to her presence. Parents, however, began to complain and informed Prudence Crandall that her school would not be supported if she kept the Negro girl as a student. To this threat Prudence Crandall replied: "It might sink then for I should not turn her out." Soon the white girls began to leave the school, but the philanthropic teacher was determined to adhere to the principles of democratic education. She finally gave up the teaching of white girls entirely and brought a number of Negro children into her school, then situated in the most aristocratic part of the town of Canterbury. "If the Canterbury people," said Ellen D. Larned, "had quietly accepted the situation and left them in peace the difficulty would soon have ended. Even if the children had remained they would have given them little annoyance. Twenty Indian lads were received into Plainfield Academy a few years later, and few outside of the village even heard of them."[3]