THE SKYLARR’S SONG 149

a jay for a nightingale; and I tell thee, sir, upon my word,
and on the remnant of mine honour, he has the voice that
thou dost need if thou wouldst win the favor of the
Queen. He has the voice, and thou the thingumbobs to
make the most of it. Don’t bea fool, now; hear him sing.
That ’s all I ask. Just hear him once. Thou ‘lt pawn
thine ears to hear him twice.”

The music-school stood within the old cathedral grounds.
Through the windows came up distantly the murmur of
the throng in Paul’s Yard. It was mid-afternoon, quite
warm ; blundering flies buzzed up and down the lozenged
panes, and through the dark hall crept the humming sound
of childish voices reciting eagerly, with now and then a
sharp, small cry as some one faltered in his lines and had
his fingers rapped. Somewhere else there were boyish
voices running scales, now up, now down, without a stop,
and other voices singing harmonies, two parts and three
together, here and there a little flat from weariness.

The stairs were very dark, Nick thought, as they went
up to another floor; but the long hall they came into there
was quite bright with the sun.

At one end was a little stage, like the one at the Rose
play-house, with a small gallery for musicians above it;
but everything here was painted white and gold, and was
most scrupulously clean. The rush-strewn floor was filled
with oaken benches, and there were paintings hanging
upon the wall, portraits of old head-masters and precentors.
Some of them were so dark with time that Nick wondered
if they had been blackamoors.