EACH Form at Briarcroft had its own teacher, but in addition there were a certain number of visiting masters and mistresses who came out from Greyfield to give lessons at the school. A few were popular, some were tolerated, and one or two were cordially disliked. Among those who had the ill fortune to encounter strong opposition was Fraeulein Hochmeyer, the singing mistress. She was a most conscientious teacher and a clever musician, but so intensely German in both accent and methods that she offended the British susceptibilities of her pupils, and inspired more ridicule than respect. Poor Fraeulein meant so well, it was really very hard that her efforts did not meet with better results. She treated her classes exactly as she would have dealt with similar ones in Germany; but what might have pleased apple-cheeked, pig-tailed Gretchens did not at all suit the taste of the Briarcroft-ites, particularly the members of the Lower School. They refused even to smile at her heavy Teutonic jokes, mocked her accent, rebelled at the numerous German songs they were expected to learn, whispered, giggled, and talked during the lesson, and generally made it extremely difficult for her to keep order. In vain she alternately pleaded, conciliated, flustered, fumed, and even threatened. The girls would not behave seriously, and though they did not deign to laugh at her attempts at humour, they treated her as a joke. As she was decidedly stout and rosy they nicknamed her "German Sausage", and made fun of her almost to her face. A part of Fraeulein Hochmeyer's system of voice production which her pupils much detested was learning the proper position of the mouth. It was of course a most important and necessary part of the lesson, but owing to the way it was enforced the silly girls turned it all into ridicule. Fraeulein would stand upon the platform giving a practical demonstration to show how the lips must be well drawn back, revealing the teeth parted about the third of an inch, so as to offer no obstruction to the free passage of the voice; and she would require her pupils to stand at attention with their mouths thus fixed before beginning the preliminary exercises. "We look like a set of grinning imbeciles!" complained Lennie Chapman, "with Sausage for the arch-lunatic of us all. I wish to goodness we had a decent English teacher! I don't like these foreign ways." "You'd like it still less if you were turned into a pattern pupil like me!" grumbled Gipsy. "I hate making an exhibition of myself." Gipsy, being an apt copyist, was able to set her mouth at exactly the right angle, and in consequence her approving teacher would frequently beckon her on to the platform with the invitation: "Dear friendt, com here and show ze ozers how you do open ze mouz."