o her and she to him--she must have been, or she'd never have stood the
way he behaved--Ellador and I had already a deep, restful feeling, as
if we'd always had one another. Jeff and Celis were happy; there was no
question of that; but it didn't seem to me as if they had the good times
we did.

Well, here is the Herland child facing life--as Ellador tried to show
it to me. From the first memory, they knew Peace, Beauty, Order, Safety,
Love, Wisdom, Justice, Patience, and Plenty. By "plenty" I mean that the
babies grew up in an environment which met their needs, just as young
fawns might grow up in dewy forest glades and brook-fed meadows. And
they enjoyed it as frankly and utterly as the fawns would.

They found themselves in a big bright lovely world, full of the most
interesting and enchanting things to learn about and to do. The people
everywhere were friendly and polite. No Herland child ever met the
overbearing rudeness we so commonly show to children. They were People,
too, from the first; the most precious part of the nation.

In each step of the rich experience of living, they found the instance
they were studying widen out into contact with an endless range of
common interests. The things they learned were RELATED, from the first;
related to one another, and to the national prosperity.

"It was a butterfly that made me a forester," said Ellador. "I was about
eleven years old, and I found a big purple-and-green butterfly on a low
flower. I caught it, very carefully, by the closed wings, as I had been
told to do, and carried it to the nearest insect teacher"--I made a note
there to ask her what on earth an insect teacher was--"to ask her its
name. She took it from me with a little cry of delight. 'Oh, you blessed
child,' she said. 'Do you like obernuts?' Of course I liked obernuts,
and said so. It is our best food-nut, you know. 'This is a female of the
obernut moth,' she told me. 'They are almost gone. We have been trying
to exterminate them for centuries. If you had not caught this one, it
might have laid eggs enough to raise worms enough to destroy thousands
of our nut trees--thousands of bushels of nuts--and make years and years
of trouble for us.'

"Everybody congratulated me. The children all over the country were told
to watch for that moth, if there were any more. I was shown the history
of the creature, and an account of the damage it used to do and of how
long and hard our foremothers had worked to