Later Beverly brought me a picture of a girl dressed in red and I said, “Is that Little Red Riding Hood?” She smiled, and I said, “Shall I tell you the story of Little Red Riding Hood?”

I took her on my lap and began the story, and she listened attentively. When I came to the part, “Big eyes to see you,” her eyes fairly danced, and before I could say, “Big ears to hear you,” she pointed to her ears and threw back her little head and laughed as I showed my surprise. I went on and as I started to say, “Big mouth to eat you up,” she opened her mouth wide and made a dive for my face and bit my cheek ever so gently.

Then she slipped to the floor and stood looking at me laughing heartily as though she had played a good joke on me. Her mother said that they had never tried to tell her stories as they thought she was too young.

Then she added, “She never displays any of this to anyone but you. Can it be that she knows that you understand her?”

I suggested that now Beverly is learning to talk that she, the mother, study the child and make every effort to understand her, hinting that Beverly might teach her many things. —M. F. R.