CONFIRMATION, 118
V. LED TO THE LIGHT, 128
VI. PAINFUL DISCLOSURES, 134
VII. A HAPPY CHRISTMAS, 145
VIII. THE BEATA CHARITY, 151

Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Original spellings have been retained.

LITTLE TORA:

THE SWEDISH SCHOOLMISTRESS

CHAPTER I.

LITTLE TORA.

The kindly doctor was entertaining his brother-in-law, and all the
family were sitting round the table in state. The polished silver and
shining glass, with porcelain, flowers, and fruit, seemed to be all that
had been provided for the dinner.

The usual "grace" had hardly been said, when a trim maid announced that
a little girl was at the door, who must see the doctor about something
particular. "There is nobody sick more than usual," she says; "but she
must come in," continued the irritated damsel-in-waiting.

"Let her come in here. You can never have your meals in peace!" said the
doctor's wife affectionately.

The soup and the little girl came in together, the latterly evidently
quite prepared to state her errand. She was a small, straight child,
with a determined air and a cheery face, as if sure of success in her
undertaking. Fresh in Monday cleanliness, her white cotton head-kerchief
stood stiffly out in a point behind, and her calico apron was without
spot or wrinkle. Her shoes, though they had been diligently blackened
and were under high polish, did not correspond with the rest of her
appearance. They had evidently been made for a boy, an individual much
larger than their present wearer. Great wrinkles crossing each other
shut off some low, unoccupied land near the toe, and showed how much of
the sole had been too proud to touch the common ground. All this the
observers saw at once.

"Well, Tora!" said the doctor pleasantly, after she had dropped her
bob-courtesies, and "good-days" had been exchanged.

"May I sing for you?" said the little girl, without further hesitation,
as she hastily took out a thin, black book from the small pocket
handkerchief in which it had been carefully wrapped.

"Sing? yes, surely!" said the doctor. "Just the thing for us while we
are taking our dinner. My brother-in-law here is a famous judge of
music, so you must do your best."

Tora opened the book, took what she considered an imposing position, and
announced the name of the song. It was a patriotic one, an