fancy; but I'm sorry," sighed the child.

"That's my sensible girl! Now, think a minute, my dear, and you will
also own that it is best to give up the child as well as the mermaid,"
said her uncle briskly.

"Oh! no: we love one another; and she is good, and I can't give her up,"
cried Fancy.

"Answer me a few questions; and I'll prove that she isn't good, that you
don't love her, and that you _can_ give her up," said Uncle Fact, and
numbered off the questions on his fingers as he spoke.

"Didn't Luly want you to deceive us, and every one else, about who she
was?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't you like to be with her better than with your aunt or myself?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hadn't you rather hear her songs and stories than learn your lessons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Isn't it wrong to deceive people, to love strangers more than those who
are a father and mother to you, and to like silly tales better than
useful lessons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Then, don't you see, that, if Luly makes you do these wrong
and ungrateful things, she is not a good child, nor a fit playmate for
you?"

Fancy didn't answer; for she couldn't feel that it was so, though he
made it seem so. When Uncle Fact talked in that way, she always got
confused and gave up; for she didn't know how to argue. He was right in
a certain way; but she felt as if she was right also in another way,
though she could not prove it: so she hung her head, and let her tears
drop on the carpet one by one.

Uncle Fact didn't mean to be unkind, but he did mean to have his own
way; and, when he saw the little girl's sad face, he took her on his
knee, and said, more mildly:

"Do you remember the story about the German Lorelei, who sung so
sweetly, and lured people to death in the Rhine?"

"Yes, uncle; and I like it," answered Fancy, looking up.

"Well, my dear, your Lorelei will lead you into trouble, if you follow
her. Suppose she is what you think her,--a mermaid: it is her delight to
draw people into the water, where, of course, they drown. If she is what
I think her,--a sly, bad child, who sees that you are very simple, and
who means to get taken care of without doing any thing useful,--she will
spoil you in a worse way than if you followed her into the sea. I've got
no little daughter of my own, and I want to keep you as safe and happy
as if you were mine. I don't like this girl, and I want you to give her
up for my sake. Will you, Fancy?"

While her uncle said these