e girls would much rather sing them than the
other words. They're about the school, you see. I daren't ask Fraeulein
myself; do you think you could?" and Gipsy turned quite red at the
boldness of her own suggestion.

"It might be a good idea. Give me the paper, and I'll see what I can
do."

"Oh, thanks so much! I hope Fraeulein won't be offended."

Miss Edith's gentle tact could often accomplish things where other
measures might have failed. Nobody ever heard how she explained the
situation and persuaded Fraeulein Hochmeyer to adopt the alterations, but
before the next singing lesson all the obnoxious song books were
collected and Gipsy's versions, neatly printed by hand on slips of
paper, were pasted over the old words of the two songs in question.

"I hear you not like to sing about hares and babies?" commented
Fraeulein. "So! It must be all about school? Yes. You have among you von
who can write in verse" (nodding cheerily to the abashed Gipsy). "My
friendt, you shall make for us some more verses to suit ze ozer songs!"

Having determined to act as Fraeulein's champion, Gipsy tried her utmost
to sway popular opinion in favour of the luckless singing mistress. It
was a far harder task, though, than she had anticipated, and put her
powers of leadership to a severe test. It had been easy enough to induce
the Juniors to stand up for their own rights, but it was considerably
more difficult to make them realize anybody else's claims to
consideration.

"Do let's be nice to her!" pleaded Gipsy. "She's really a very decent
sort on the whole. She can't help being a foreigner and talking with a
queer accent."

"Why, you were the first to make fun of her last week," objected some of
the girls.

"I know, but it was rather horrid. Her story's quite romantic, don't you
think?"

"Can't see much romance about our homely German Sausage!" giggled Daisy
Scatcherd.

"Put a bunch of forget-me-nots in her hair, and she'll look a heroine!"
tittered Norah Bell.

"Yankee Doodle, when you ride a hobby you ride it to death! What's
induced you to take such a sudden and violent affection for the
Sausage?"

"You'll be standing perennially on the platform now, holding your teeth
like a dentist's advertisement, to show us how to 'open ze mouz'!"

"I wish you'd revise the schoolbooks and cut out the difficult parts!"

"Go on! Rag me as much as you like. I don't care!" retorted Gipsy
sturdily.

"I've brought this picture of a saus