""Your name is in a song, isn't it?" said Grace Waite, as she and her new playmate, Sylvia Fulton, walked down the pleasant street on their way to school. "Is it? Can you sing the song?" questioned Sylvia eagerly, her blue eyes shining at what promised to be such a delightful discovery. Grace nodded smilingly. She was a year older than Sylvia, nearly eleven years old, and felt that it was quite proper that she should be able to explain to Sylvia more about her name than Sylvia knew herself. "It is something about 'spelling, '" she explained, and then sang, very softly: "'Then to Sylvia let us sing, That Sylvia is spelling. She excels each mortal thing, Upon the dull earth dwelling. '"