"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 Fräulein 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 Fräulein, 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.
Fräulein 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."
The music of the songs was beautiful, that was allowed by even the most unappreciative of the girls. There was a joyous lilt and a true melody about them that put them high in the rank of composition, and the accompaniments played with Fräulein's delicate touch were harmonious and suitable. The words, unfortunately, were childish in the extreme, and more fit for youngsters of five than girls of eleven to fourteen. Even the members of the Lower Third turned up supercilious noses. They were further marred by Fräulein's accent, and when she unctuously rendered
"Hush, my baby, sweetest, best,
Little mousie's gone to rest",