At St. Stephen's an entirely new life opened to him. The school, an ancient foundation, consisted of a Cantor, a Subcantor, two ushers and six scholars. They dwelt under the same roof and ate together. The city paid for the board, lodging and clothing of the scholars, but not too liberally, and the youngsters were never under the doctor's care for over-eating and had no occasion to pride themselves on the quantity or the quality of the clothing given them. Reading, writing, arithmetic and Latin were among the studies taught in addition to music. In the art to which his life was now devoted, Haydn received instruction in singing and on the violin and clavier. Harmony and composition were also supposed to be taught by Reuter, but Haydn could never recall more than two lessons in theory imparted to him by the Capellmeister. The boy was therefore thrown on his own resources, for he had no money with which to pay for lessons from other teachers. The music that he now heard opened a new world to him and filled him with an unappeasable desire to produce such music himself. He was soon absorbed in every book on musical theory, to which he had access, and he never put it aside before he had completely mastered all that it had to tell him. In the meanwhile his attire became shabbier and shabbier; his shoes were worn down at the heels, and his appearance gradually merged into what he long afterwards described as that of "a veritable little ragamuffin." He wrote home for money to renew his apparel, and when his father sent him six florins for that purpose he bought Fux's "Gradus ad Parnassum" and the "Vollkommener Capellmeister," by Mattheson. The former was his constant companion, and he even placed it under his pillow when he went to bed. When his companions were at play he studied, and when they were over noisy and disturbed him he would, as he said many years later, "take my little clavier under my arm and go away to practise in quiet." Music had become his passion.