Earlier in theday we had had a tussle over the words "m-u-g" and "w-a-t-e-r." Miss Sullivan had tried toimpress it upon me that "m-u-g" is mug and that "w-a-t-e-r" is water, but I persisted inconfounding the two. In despair she had dropped the subject for the time, only to renew it atthe first opportunity. I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, Idashed it upon the floor. I was keenly delighted when I felt the fragments of the broken doll atmy feet. Neither sorrow nor regret followed my passionate outburst. I had not loved the doll.In the still, dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness. I felt my teacher sweep the fragments to one side of the hearth, and I had a sense of satisfaction thatthe cause of my discomfort was removed. She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going outinto the warm sunshine. This thought, if a wordless sensation may be called a thought, made me hop and skip with pleasure.
还有一次，我们在单词“mug”和“water”之间争得不可开交。苏立文小姐极力向我强调“水杯是水杯，水是水”，可是我固执地把两样东西混为一谈。无奈之下，她不再同我争辩，而是从头开始教我。我对她翻来覆去的重复不胜厌烦，于是我一把抓过新娃娃，把它猛地摔在地上。我感觉到了娃娃在我脚下四分五裂，只觉得心里十分痛快。既不悲伤，也不愧疚，我的情绪就那样爆发了，我不再爱那个娃娃。显然，在我生活的寂静、黑暗的世界里，是没有强烈的柔情和关爱的。我感觉到我的老师把娃娃的残肢扫到了壁炉旁边。我的懊恼也随之被移走了，我感到心满意足。后来，老师拿来了我的帽子，我知道我要去外面晒太阳了。这样的念头—如果这种无声的感觉能够被称作一个念头的话，那么它会令我感到欢欣鼓舞。