Master Skylark

nged with people keeping holiday, and at the

, stalked about the quieter nooks, going over their several parts, and looking to their costumes, which were for the most part upon their bac

t affect his voice, and had him say his lines a hundred times until he had them pat. Then he was off, directing here, there, and everywhere, until the court

he Duke, calls out, 'How now, who comes?--I'll match him for the ale!' be quickly in and answer to thy part; and, marry, boy, don't miss thy cues, or--tsst, thy head's not worth a peascod!" With that he clapped his han

he entry door, with his heart

feet and a great crying out as the 'prentices and burghers trooped into the inn-yard, pushing and crowding for places near the stage. Those who had the money bawled aloud for farthing stools.

"Good-day, fair Master Harrington! Good-day, Sir Thomas Parkes! Good-day, sweet Mistress Nettleby and Master Nettleby! Good-day, good-day, good-day!" for the richer

a gittern, a fiddle, and a drum; and behind the curtain, just outside the door,

Then on a sudden a shutter opened high above the orchestra, a trum

Grace, Charles, Lord Howard, High Admiral of England, Ireland, Wales, Calais, and Boulogne, the marches of N

the courtyard cheer

ee Grey Gowns,' by Master Thomas Heywood, in which will be spoken many good things,

, and as a sudden hush fell over the throng with

Nick, with his eye to the crack of the door, listened with all his ears for his cue, far too excited even t

, with an anxious look

front now as I told thee--mind thy cues--speak boldly--sing as thou didst sing for me--and if thou wo

--the door-latch clicked behind him--he was out in the ope

rary platform of planks laid upon trestles. One side of it was against the wall,

ies were filled with gentlefolk in holiday attire, eating cakes and chaffing gaily at the play. All was one bewildered cloud of staring eyes to Nick, and the only thing which he was sur

k words, "I'll match him for th

s homelike and familiar in its sound, one of their own, with no amazing London

r's apprentice, "Whoy, bullies, there be hayseed in his hair. 'Ti

ent "clap" upon a dagger-hilt. The play lagged, and the crowd began to jeer. Nick's heart was full of fear and of angry shame that he had dared to try. Then all at once there came a brief pause,

ging on a summer's evening--drew

e, and all was still. Nick thought of his mother's voice singing on a summer's evening among the hollyhocks, a

s, away, and

t we bani

ow soft; moun

y love go

n the woods,--a thing scarce meant ever to be sung alone, a simple strain, a few plain notes, and at the close o

seemed to breathe. Then there was a very great noise, and all the court seemed hurling at him. A man upon the stage sprang to his feet. What they were goin

his hand--Nick, all bewildered, knew not what; and there he stood, quite stupefied, not knowing what to do. Then Carew came out hastily and led him down the stage, bowing, and pressing his hand to his heart, and smiling like

above the rest; "Whoy, bullies!" he shouted, amid a chorus of cheers and laughter, "didn't I say 'twas catched out in th

together, "Sing it again!

ster Carew," said he, with a tremb

g. The master-player's cheeks were flushed with triumph, and his dark

at they smelled like rose-mallows in July. The players of the Lord Admiral's company were going about shaking hands with Carew and with each other as if they had not met for years, and slapping one another upon the back; and one came over, a tall, solemn, black-haired man, he who had written the song, and stood with his feet apart and stared at Nick, but spoke never

aster Heywood, firmly. "I'll have no hand

Nick to walk about the town. Nick then, for the first time, looked into his ha