d in the full
chorus of the schoolroom it had stirred the young Swedish hearts to
their depths.

The first few notes were right, though tremblingly given; then came a
quivering and a faltering and a falsity that made the doctor's boys
cover their laughing mouths with their hands, while their eyes twinkled
with suppressed merriment.

Just then there was a queer buzzing noise in the room, by which the tune
was carried on, and Tora fell in with fresh courage. Most of the party
were taking their soup, as well as listening; but the boys observed that
their uncle quietly held his motionless spoon, and was looking at the
singer as if lost in musical bliss. His mouth was closed, but his
nostrils seemed undergoing a rhythmical contraction and distension most
interesting and unusual.

Tora gave the closing notes in fine style, and the expression of
applause was general. So encouraged, she volunteered a simple
newly-published carol that she had that day been practising at school.
Here it seemed the musical accompaniment could not be relied upon. Tora
began, stopped, and began again, then was silent, while great tears
stood in her eyes.

One of the before-smiling boys hastened to say,--

"Let her speak a piece, uncle. She can do that beautifully, her brother
Karl says. He has taught her ever so many, and it costs her nothing to
learn them. He likes to tell that she is the best scholar in her class."

The uncle seemed to be able to enjoy his dinner at the same time as the
elocutionary treat with which it was now accompanied, and he warmly
complimented the speaker on her performance at its close.

"What made you think of giving us this pleasure, little Tora?" said the
doctor, with a humorous look in his kindly face.

"Why," said the little girl at once, "I don't like my shoes. They have
been brother Karl's. When I asked father this morning to give me some
new ones, he said this was a fine strong pair and did not let in water,
and he could not think of letting them go to waste. Then he looked
sorrowful, and I heard him say to mother, 'The poor children will have
to earn all they have soon.' I made up my mind to begin at once, and
earn my shoes, if I could. Our teacher told us to-day about Jenny Lind,
who began to sing when she was a very little girl, and when she was
older she made a great deal of money, and gave away ever so much, and
was loved and admired wherever she went. I thought I should like to be
loved and admired w