mental, handicap. And who is better qualified to fire the youthful mind, to strengthen the wavering ambition, and arouse the latent enthusiasm, than one who has made the effort, has fought the fight, and won gloriously!

Although Dr. Warring Wilkinson, who was Superintendent of the California School for the Blind for over forty years, and his brother Charles, who taught for the same period—although neither of these men was blind, they were true teachers and college men, and understood the value of scholastic attainment to the blind. As far back as I can remember, they urged us all to prepare for college, and, to stimulate this desire, they kept in close touch with the work of the university, and often brought essays written by the advanced students, to encourage us in our literary efforts, assuring us with a little practice we could write as well. Often, too, they would take classes to hear a lecture on some subject under discussion, thus forging the first link between the school and the university, in whose shadow our young lives were spent. In preparing us for competition with seeing students, Mr. Charles Wilkinson used to say: "never ask for quarter because of your blindness. Do your work so well that people will say not, 'how wonderful this is considering your affliction,' but 'how perfect in spite of it!'" This thought has remained constantly with me, strengthening and encouraging me, enabling me to overcome difficulties that would otherwise have been impossible to surmount.

It is of vital importance that the blind should have pleasant, well-modulated voices, and for this reason elocution should be included in the course of study. In recent years a number of blind students in eastern schools have been trained as readers and public entertainers, a line of work in which eyesight is not an essential factor. Reading aloud should be encouraged among the pupils, and frequent speed tests given, thus stimulating in them a desire for reading.

The school at Berkeley has included business methods in its course of study, and this is an excellent thing, because the day is not far distant when the ability of the blind to fill positions as typewriters, stenographers, telephone and dictaphone operators, and salesmen, will be recognized. And when this time comes, let us hope that our young people may be ready and eager to prove their worth in these lines of endeavor. If the students are made to feel that they are blazing a trail, and making it less difficult for others to follow, their ultimate success is assured.

Having outlined the aim and purpose of the residential school, and shown it to be a necessary factor in the education of the blind in every state, I wish to call attention to some of the advantages to be derived from coeducation of blind and seeing children.

As early as 1900 Chicago started a special class for blind children as a part of its public school system, thus inaugurating the movement in this country, if not in the world. Since that time many large cities, including Boston, New York, Jersey City, Rochester, Milwaukee, Detroit, Cleveland, Toledo, Cincinnati and Los Angeles, have started similar classes, carrying the children from the kindergarten, through elementary and high school, and preparing them for college. The class in Chicago was started through the efforts of John B. Curtis, a blind teacher, and the Superintendent of Public School classes of Cleveland, Toledo and Cincinnati. Mr. R. B. Irwin, is a blind man, and so it is not strange that a blind teacher of Los Angeles should be the first to recognize the need of such a class in this state.

The State Library was glad to further this forward movement in the education of blind children, and permitted me to devote a great deal of time to organizing the class, and it provided the books and some of the apparatus for carrying on the work for the first year. It still supplies many of the books, though the Board of Education provides its own apparatus. Dr. Albert Shiels, Superintendent of the Los Angeles City Schools, was glad to have a class for the blind in the city, since he has seen how successfully the work was carried on in New York, where more than two hundred children attend special classes, and this in spite of the fact that New York has two state schools for the blind. When the home conditions are favorable, and a special class is available, it is wiser to permit the blind child to remain with its parents, to attend school each morning with its brothers and sisters. In this way there is no break in the family relation and the child does not grow indifferent to home ties, as so often happens when he is sent to a residential school. Mr. Irwin says "the special class is the twentieth century emphasis on the integrity of the home."

On January 2, 1917, the Los Angeles class started with eight pupils enrolled, and on June 30 of this year the number had increased to seventeen, with the prospect of more at the opening of the fall term. Teachers for special classes are generally chosen from the regular school department, their work being usually directed by a blind supervisor. In pursuance of my work as home teacher I found a number of children for whom there was no room in the State School at Berkeley, and before the special class was organized I taught these children in their homes or at the library. Miss Frances Blend, a grade teacher, asked to study with me, since she wished to teach the blind here or in the East. I sent her to teach the children, and in this way she acquired the necessary experience, learned to read and write Braille rapidly, and gained an insight into the psychology of the blind child, so, when the board of education needed a teacher for the special class she was ready and eager for the task. Since then Miss Blend's sister has qualified and is now the second teacher in the blind department, eight to ten children being considered all that one teacher can properly care for.

Among the poor of every large city, there are children whose parents conceal them, for fear they may be sent away to school. These are known as hidden children, and I found one such child tucked away under the bed, and was told she always hid there when she heard strange voices. She was a little Mexican girl, and spoke no English. She is now one of the brightest children in the class, and her parents are delighted that they need not part with her.

In the special class, the children are trained to speak intelligently of things which they do not see with the physical sight, so that they may be able to converse naturally upon ordinary topics, and need not have to plead ignorance, on the ground of never having seen this or that object. Their minds are filled with a love for all beautiful things, especially flowers and pictures, and they are frequently taken to parks and museums. They are told about the stars, the blue sky, sunsets, the majesty of the ocean, and all the other wonders that enchant the eye; and they are taught to speak of "seeing" these things, because they really do see them with the mental vision, keener, in many instances, than mere physical sight. The boys of the polytechnic high school made a wonderful doll house for the children—a house of four rooms, fully furnished throughout. The children made their own rugs and baskets, tables and chairs, and one boy modeled a bathtub of plasticine, perfect in design. The house has a sloping roof, and it is thatched, and I must confess that my first real knowledge of roofs was gained from examining that one on the doll house. It has a chimney, too, and a stovepipe, and so the children learn a great deal from this miniature home of their dolls.

In their special classroom, the children are taught Braille reading and writing, and a great deal of time is given to these branches. They are taught all sorts of handwork, basketry, weaving, knitting, modeling, and chair caning, and, when old enough, they are sent with the other children to sewing,