description given of her by Dr. Howe, who is at the head of the institution.  That description has so often been published in England that I will not transcribe it.  Her figure is genteel, slender, and well-proportioned.  She appears to be lively, sensitive, and benevolent.  The place where the bright blue eyes once sparkled that are now quenched in darkness is covered with a piece of green ribbon.  Conversation with her is carried on by means of the “speaker’s” rapid fingering on her right hand.  It was in this manner that we were introduced.  She shook hands with us very affectionately, —­taking hold of both hands of Mrs. Davies, and feeling all about her head, her dress, and her arms.  In doing so she felt the wedding-ring, and wanted to know by means of her interpreter—­her governess—­why the English ladies wore a ring on that finger. (The American ladies do not observe the custom.) On my wife telling her it was to show they were married, she seemed very much amused and astonished.  Here it was very interesting to observe the progress of a thought from ourselves to the governess, and from her to that “little, white, whispering, loving, listening” hand that received and communicated all ideas, until the brightened countenance and the lovely smile showed it had reached the soul.  She felt a deep sympathy for Ireland, and wished to know what the English were doing for the starving inhabitants.  We told her; and soon after we saw by the public papers that, subsequently to our visit, she had done some needle-work, which was sold, and the proceeds appropriated at her request to purchase a barrel of flour for that unhappy land.  “How,” exclaims Elihu Burritt, “she plied at morning, noon, and night, those fingers! wonderful fingers!  It seemed that the very finger of God had touched them with miraculous susceptibilities of fellowship with the spirit world and that around her.  She put them upon the face of His written word, and felt them thrilled to her heart with the pulsation of His great thoughts of love to man.  And then she felt for other’s woe.  Poor child!  God bless her richly!  She reached out her short arms to feel after some more unhappy than she in the condition of this life; some whose fingers’ ends had not read such sweet paragraphs of heaven’s mercy as hers had done; some who had not seen, heard, and felt what her dumb, silent, deaf fingers had brought into her heart of joy, hope, and love.  Think of that, ye young eyes and ears that daily feast upon the beauty and melody of this outer world!  Within the atmosphere of her quick sensibilities, she felt the presence of those whose cup was full of affliction.  She put her fingers, with their throbbing sympathies, upon the lean bloodless faces of the famishing children in Ireland, and her sightless eyes filled with the tears that the blind may shed for griefs they cannot see.  And then she plied the needle and those fingers, and quickened their industry by placing them anon upon the slow sickly pulse of want that wasted