The master turned out of the vestry. The cathedral was emptied of its
crowd, leaving nothing but the dust to tell of what had been, and the
bells once more went pealing forth over the city. Mr. Pye crossed the
nave, and quitted the cathedral by the cloister door, followed by the
choristers. The schoolroom, once the large refectory of the monks in
monkish days, was on the opposite side of the cloisters; a large room,
which you gained by steps, and whose high windows were many feet from
the ground. Could you have climbed to those windows, and looked from
them, you would have beheld a fair scene. A clear river wound under the
cathedral walls; beyond its green banks were greener meadows,
stretching out in the distance; far-famed, beautiful hills bounded the
horizon. Close by, were the prebendal houses; some built of red stone,
some covered with ivy, all venerable with age. Pleasant gardens
surrounded most of them, and dark old elms towered aloft, sheltering
the rooks, which seemed as old as the trees.
The king's scholars were in the schoolroom, cramming their surplices
into bags, or preparing to walk home with them thrown upon their arms,
and making enough hubbub to alarm the rooks. It dropped to a dead calm
at sight of the master. On holidays--and this was one--it was not usual
for the masters to enter the school after service. The school was
founded by royal charter--its number limited to forty boys, who were
called king's scholars, ten of whom, those whose voices were the best,
were chosen choristers.
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