did--and Lola told them her age--after she had been given
the year of her birth. If I happened to be absent minded, Lola knew
at once how to deceive me, for she seemed then, instinctively aware
that I was not a match for her."

* * * * *

Lola also solved many little sums set her by my friend, Fraeulein M. D.
(at the time that lady had been staying with me on the farm to gain
first-hand experience in the work), and on one occasion when Fraeulein
M. D. said, "Where is your mistress?" Lola spelt out that I was in the
"segenhaus," which was quite true, I having told her shortly before
that I was going there. To the great amusement of the maids, Lola
sometimes elected to work in the kitchen, with the little
seven-year-old son of the housekeeper, and it is reported that her
answers were frequently right. I feel sure, in fact, that Lola would
work with anyone who was adapted to work with her, and that she would
give as good an account of herself, with them, as she does with me.

THE QUESTION OF POSSIBLE INFLUENCE

Eighteenth May, 1916. Lola, who since the middle of April has been
accustomed to giving her own independent, and often lengthy, answers,
was now rapping very well. Her replies were to the point, decidedly
apt, and often quite unexpected. Moreover she usually stuck obstinately
to her own way--should I happen to think that something was incorrect,
until--on giving in--I sometimes had to acknowledge that she had been
right after all. Now, on the 18 May I said to her: "Lola, you must
write to my father and thank him for the biscuits, he will then send
you some more. This is the way to write a letter, one begins--'dear
Father,' or just 'dear,' and then one tells what one is thinking about,
you must, therefore, thank him--and when the letter is finished--you
must put 'love from Lola'." Now then--begin. Lola started rapping out
without further delay, and continued rapidly and "fluently"--so to
speak--her letter running as follows: "lib, nach uns kom, ich una ..."
(here I interrupted her, believing her about to say "ich und Henny")
and asked "is this right?" She said it was: "but, Lola," I urged, "be
sure you are careful! ought this not to be a 'd'?" "No!" she said. I
was at a loss to make out where this "a" came in, but told her to go
on--and Lola rapped: "... artig eben, oft we, kus ich!" So the "una"
had been part of "unartig"! ( = "dear, come to us, I have