THE CINDERELLA FROOK. 13

[aE Toe 2a,

“ Sing me now a little song, mother dear,
Neither sad or very long ;

It is for a little maid,

Golden-tressed Adelade.”

So THOUGHT little Louise Carl in the words
of the sweet song, as the man led forward the
little girl, and spoke a few words to the
teacher, of which all she could catch was, not
‘‘Adelade,” indeed, (Louise had got her eyes
just at this moment on the yellow curls and
the name had been decided in her own mind
accordingly,) but ‘*We call her Alice.”
Then the teacher stooped to whisper what
Louise was sure must be some affectionate
and encouraging thing, it was so like her, and