The letters "th" were an impossibility to Fraeulein's German tongue, and the girls giggled continually at the "z's" that replaced them. Gipsy was not at all proud of being forced to set an example to the class, and would ascend the platform with an ill grace, and look the reverse of flattered at the encouraging pats that were bestowed upon her shoulders. Really Fraeulein had the kindest heart in the world, and tried, in her heavy fashion, to be on excellent terms with her pupils, but she did not in the least comprehend the mind of the British schoolgirl. "She treats us exactly as if we were kindergarten babies!" sneered Hetty Hancock. "I don't know how German girls of our age would enjoy her silly jokes, but I think she's a rotter!" "And she's so sentimental!" hinnied Daisy Scatcherd. "I nearly had a fit when she began to troll out that love song, with her hand laid touchingly on her heart." "That sort of rubbish may go down in the Fatherland, but it doesn't here." The girls had waxed restive at many of the _Lieder_ which they were obliged to learn, but when Fraeulein turned up one morning with a volume of songs of her own composition, their discontent verged towards mutiny. "Ze original vords are, of course, in German," explained Fraeulein, "but I have had a translation made for you by a friendt of mine, and it is sehr gut. Ze first it is a cradle song. Now, I ask has any girl in ze class got at home a leetle, leetle brozer or sister?" "I have," volunteered Mary Parsons bluntly. "A brother." "And how old?" "Six months." "Ach! Zat is beautiful! You shall sing zis song to ze leetle baby in ze cradle, vile you rock him gently, gently, till he sleep!" and Fraeulein gazed ecstatically at Mary, as if calling up a mental picture of her sisterly attention. "He'd soon squall if I did!" grunted Mary to her neighbour, who exploded audibly. "You, who are not so all-fortunate as to have a baby in ze home, must sing it to ze child of a neighbour," went on Fraeulein, evidently determined that the value of the lullaby should receive a practical trial. "And what are we boarders to do?" enquired Lennie Chapman ironically. "Sing it to the cat!" whispered Hetty, whereat the bystanders tittered. "You've stumped her there!" murmured Fiona. Fraeulein certainly for a moment looked a little at a loss, but she soon recovered her presence of mind. "Vait till ze holidays, zen you sall see!" she returned with an engaging smile. "I shall now sing von or two of ze lieder to you, to show you vat zey are like."