While the work with the children is always interesting, we sometimes have a case so remarkable that it stands out from all the others.

Jim had imperfect sight and constant pain in the back of his eyes. He did not like to raise his head, because the light bothered him so much. Having tested hie sight, which was 15/70, I placed him in a chair and told him not to open his eyes, even for a moment. After I had attended to a few more patients, I came back and asked him to open his eyes. What happened seemed like a miracle. He didn't look like the same boy. His formerly half-shut eyes were wide open, and without any trouble he read the bottom line of the test card at fifteen feet. When I praised him for what he had done, he smiled and asked, "When shall I come again?" I gave him the sun treatment, and told him to sit In the sun with his eyes closed whenever he found time.

At the next visit he read 20/10 with both eyes, and he told me that the light did not trouble him any more. Later Jim brought a friend aged twelve, who had been wearing glasses for two years or more. When he came Into the room he did not wait for his turn, in his eagerness, but placed himself right hi front of me, took off his glasses, and said, "You cured Jimmle'a eyes. Will you cure me too?"

"Surely," I said, "If you wait your turn." As soon as I could I tested his sight and found that he could see just as well without his glasses as with them - 15/20. I told him to palm, and before he left the clinic that day, he saw distinctly some of the letters on the bottom line at fifteen feet. This was even more remarkable than Jimmie's case, for patients who have worn glasses are usually muqh harder to cure than those who have never worn them.

Sometimes the mothers come with the children, and then I always try to enlist them as my assistants. If they are wearing glasses, I try to persuade them to cure themselves, so that the children will not copy their bad visual habits, and will not be subjected to the influence of people who strain. Not long ago, a mother who had trouble with her eyes, brought her child for treatment, and agreed to help the latter at home. I said that would be fine, and then I asked the child to help me cure her mother.

"After mother has given you a treatment," I said, "tell her to close her eyes and cover them with the palms of her hands, and to stay so until she feels rested. Be very quiet so that she will not be disturbed, and when she opens her eyes, you will surely find that mother can see better."

Both made rapid progress. At the first visit the child's vision, which had been 15/50, improved to 15/30, and in six weeks it became 20/15. The mother now exhibits to her friends with much pride her ability to thread a needle without glasses.

Only one thing about this work with the children made me sad, namely, that we could do so little of it. Many children came from other districts, and were, of course, turned away by the dispensary clerk. But even if the hospital rules did not require him to do this, we could not have admitted all who came. There was a limit to the number we could treat, and there was so little space in our eye-room that we were obliged to treat the overflow in the outside general waiting room. I wish that teachers and nurses in the schools could be instructed in the very simple art of preserving the eyesight of the coming generation.

A kindergarten teacher requested me to help one of her little charges who was afflicted with squint. She informed me that the little one was very poor, so I advised the teacher to bring her to my clinic. To become more acquainted with me, and the way in which cases were managed there, this teacher, at my invitation, visited the clinic. It Is interesting to note what she accomplished with her slight knowledge of our method.

She had a sunny disposition, and I could well Imagine a good mental picture of the children, as they greeted her every day in the classroom. She was devoted to her little pupils, and she was also a great lover of nature. She explained to her class, in her lovable way, just how the flowers grow, and made them understand what happens before the first shoots push their noses above the ground.

This teacher's name is Cecilia B. Eschbach, and the kindergarten is connected with the Brooklyn Orphan Asylum. Some time ago I received the following letter from her:

Dear Mrs. Lierman:

In spite of North Wind's biting breath, the little children of the kindergarten know that Spring is here. Their gardens give evidence of it, for the crocuses are up, the daffodils have twelve fat buds; the hyacinths and tulips, too, have grown to quite a size. To create a situation for conversation about awakening Spring, I placed eight empty flower pots in a paper bag. The one who opened the bag was called the gardener. He chose eight children, and gave them each the name of a flower, to go with the pots.

Every child was familiar with the following flowers, and could name and identify the real ones: crocus, tulip, dandelion, daffodil, hyacinth, Easter lily, pink sweet peas, rose. The little gardener decided to give away his flowers, but could not remember the name of the eighth one. I said, "Palm your eyes, William/' He did so, and in a moment said, "Pink sweet peas."

The children have learned to palm their eyes with good results. Two, who have casts in their eyes, play the swinging game and keep looking at the ceiling. Sometimes we sing, or sway to the rhythm of the piano. They are improving. Hoping this report will be of interest to you, and thanking you for your kindness, I am

Very truly yours,
Cecilia B. Eschbach.