Page 297 - The Story of My Lif

and mountains. She likes to have me tell her what I see in pictures.

But I seem to have lost the thread of my discourse. “What colour is think?” was
one of the restful questions she asked, as we swung to and fro in the hammock. I
told her that when we are happy our thoughts are bright, and when we are
naughty they are sad. Quick as a flash she said, “My think is white, Viney’s think
is black.” You see, she had an idea that the colour of our thoughts matched that

of our skin. I couldn’t help laughing, for at that very moment Viney was
shouting at the top of her voice: “I long to sit on dem jasper walls

And see dem sinners stumble and fall!”

October 3, 1887.

My account for the report is finished and sent off. I have two copies, and will
send you one; but you mustn’t show it to anybody. It’s Mr. Anagnos’s property
until it is published.

I suppose the little girls enjoyed Helen’s letter. She wrote it out of her own head,
as the children say.

She talks a great deal about what she will do when she goes to Boston. She
asked the other day, “Who made all things and Boston?” She says Mildred will
not go there because “Baby does cry all days.”

October 25, 1887.