Page 367 - The Story of My Lif

bare,

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.’

“It would seem that Helen had learned and treasured the memory of this
expression of the poet, and this morning in the snowstorm had found its
application.”

In the hope that I may be pardoned if I appear to overestimate the remarkable
mental capacity and power of comprehension and discrimination which my pupil
possesses, I wish to add that, while I have always known that Helen made great
use of such descriptions and comparisons as appeal to her imagination and fine
poetic nature, yet recent developments in her writings convince me of the fact
that I have not in the past been fully aware to what extent she absorbs the
language of her favourite authors. In the early part of her education I had full
knowledge of all the books she read and of nearly all the stories which were read
to her, and could without difficulty trace the source of any adaptations noted in
her writing or conversation; and I have always been much pleased to observe
how appropriately she applies the expressions of a favourite author in her own
compositions.

The following extracts from a few of her published letters give evidence of how
valuable this power of retaining the memory of beautiful language has been to
her. One warm, sunny day in early spring, when we were at the North, the balmy
atmosphere appears to have brought to her mind the sentiment expressed by
Longfellow in “Hiawatha,” and she almost sings with the poet: “The ground was

all aquiver with the stir of new life. My heart sang for very joy. I thought of my
own dear home. I knew that in that sunny land spring had come in all its
splendour. ‘All its birds and all its blossoms, all its flowers and all its grasses.’”