look that they ceased troubling him.

With Stineli he was perfectly contented. She had a lovely face with merry light-brown eyes. Her fluffy golden hair was gathered into two heavy braids which hung loosely from her shoulders. She was scarcely nine years old, but there were seven younger brothers and sisters. For these she had to do a great many things, so that her time for play was sadly limited. The other children were Trudt, Sam, Peter, Urschli, Anna, Kunzli, and the baby. Calls for Stineli seemed to come from every direction, and she willingly helped wherever she could. The mother said that Stineli could put on three pairs of stockings for the little ones while Trudt, the younger sister, was getting a child's foot in place for the first one.

Stineli went to school gladly, for there was always the pleasant walk going and returning with Rico. So many duties fell to her share during the summer that she had no leisure except on Sunday afternoons. Then she and Rico, who had usually been waiting on the doorsteps opposite, would go hand in hand over the wide meadow to the wooded hill beyond that stretched far out into the lake. There they would sit and look down into the water and watch the waves beat against the shore. Here they enjoyed themselves so much that Stineli was happy all the week in looking forward to the pleasure of the next Sunday.

There was some one else who contributed greatly to Stineli's pleasure. This was her aged grandmother, who made her home with the family. She noticed how much was expected of Stineli and often gave her bits of money to brighten a hard day's work. She was very fond of Rico and occasionally made it possible for Stineli to play with him by taking the household duties upon herself.

The grandmother frequently spent the summer evenings sitting in the front yard, and Stineli and Rico liked to sit with her and listen to the stories she told them. When the vesper bell rang she would say, "Remember, that is the signal for our evening worship." Then the three would devoutly repeat the Lord's Prayer.

"Your evening devotion ought never to be neglected," the grandmother continued one evening; "I have lived many more years than you have, and I have known many people, but I have observed that there is a time in the life of every one when prayer is needful. I have some in mind who did not pray, but when troubles came they had nothing to comfort them. I want you to know that you need not worry so long as you use this prayer."

It was May and the school was still in session, although it could not be kept open much longer, for the trees were beginning to show green tips, and great stretches of ground were entirely free from snow. Rico was standing in the doorway, observing these facts while waiting for Stineli. Earlier than usual the door across the way opened and she ran to him.

"Have you been waiting long? No doubt you've been building air castles at the same time," she said, laughing. "We shall not be late to-day, even if we walk slowly. Do you ever think about that pretty lake any more?" asked Stineli, as they walked along.

"Indeed I do," replied Rico; "I often dream of it, too, and I see large red flowers near the violet-colored hills I told you about."

"But dreams don't count," broke in Stineli. "I have dreamed that Peter climbed up the tallest tree, but when he got to the topmost branch I thought it was only a bird, and then he called to me to dress him. That proves how impossible dreams may be."

"This one of mine is possible," asserted Rico. "It makes me think of something that I have really seen, and I know that I have looked at those flowers and the hills. The picture is too real to be a dream only." As they neared the schoolhouse a company of children ran to meet them, and they all entered the schoolroom together.

In a few moments the teacher came. He was an old man who had taught in this room many years, and his hair had grown thin and gray as the years passed by. This morning he began the exercises with a number of questions on previous work, following this with the song, "Little Lambs."

Rico was looking so attentively at the teacher's fingering of the violin strings that he forgot to sing. The children, being accustomed to depending upon Rico's voice, sang out of tune, and the notes from the violin became more and more uncertain until all was in confusion. The song was abruptly ended by the teacher's throwing the violin on the table in disgust. "What are you trying to sing, you foolish children?" he exclaimed. "If I only knew who gets so out of tune and spoils the whole song!"

A lad sitting next to Rico ventured to say, "I know why it went that way; it always does when Rico doesn't sing."

"What is that I hear about you, Rico?" began the teacher, sharply. "You are a very obedient little fellow, but inattention is a serious fault, the result of which you have just seen. Let us try again. Now, Rico, see that you sing this time."

The children joined heartily, and Rico's voice sustained the song to the end. Then the teacher gave the violin a few final strokes and laid it on the table. "A good instrument that!" he said, and rubbed his hands with evident satisfaction.

CHAPTER III

THE SCHOOLMASTER'S VIOLIN

After school Stineli and Rico found their way out of the mass of children and started for home.

"Were you dreaming about your lake when you forgot to sing this morning?" asked Stineli.

"No, something quite different," answered Rico. "I was watching the teacher, and I am sure that I can play 'Little Lambs,' if I only had a violin."

The wish must have been a heartfelt one with Rico, for he said it with such a deep sigh that Stineli's sympathy was at once aroused and she said: "We will buy one together. I have ever so many pennies that grandmother gave me—I think twelve in all. How many have you?"

"Not one," said Rico, sadly. "My father gave me some before he went away, but my aunt took them. She said that I would only squander them anyway. I know we can't get those."

"Maybe we have enough without them," said Stineli, consolingly. "Grandmother will give me more soon, and it can't be, Rico, that a violin costs much. You know it is only a piece of old wood with four strings drawn across it. That ought not to cost a great deal. Ask the teacher to-morrow how much one costs, and then we will try to get one."

So the subject was left, but Stineli secretly resolved to get up early to build the fires, because grandmother would notice it and give her some more pennies.

The following day, after school, Stineli went out without Rico and stood at the corner of the building waiting for him. Rico was to ask the teacher concerning the violin. She waited so long that she wondered what could be keeping him, but finally he appeared.

"What did he say? How much does it cost?" inquired Stineli, eagerly.

"I didn't dare ask him," said Rico in a dejected tone.

"Oh, what a shame!" she exclaimed; but noticing Rico's sadness, she added, "It doesn't matter, Rico; you can ask him to-morrow." Then, in her cheerful way, she took his hand and they walked home without further mention of the subject.

Rico had no better success, however, on the second day nor on the third. He remained nearly half an hour at the teacher's entrance, not finding the courage to ring the bell. The fourth evening Stineli said to herself, "If he doesn't ask the teacher to-night, I will." This time, however, as Rico was standing at the door, the teacher came out suddenly and