And those children! shall they have never a word? How they assembled in the early morning, and haunted the precincts till 8.50, when they were admitted into school, and harangued on behaviour; how they, beribboned, brought down flaxen-haired, blue-eyed infants still more beribboned, and too much pleased with the ribbons to take thought for the inspector; while comely matrons stood at their doors representing the past, but carrying in their arms the scholars of the future: how they waited wearily till the Man arrived, and then in audible whispers discussed the question whether It was The Same--with apparent reference to the inspection of the previous year; how they struggled tearfully through the morning; fled home; and, what time the Inspectors had emerged from the ever hospitable Rectory, and were gazing at the tombs of the rude forefathers in the churchyard, were ready, clad in their workaday suits, to see their enemies off with faintly subdued derisive cheers. And the Rector and Rectoress said, “Well, that’s over for another year.” And the teachers said, “Thank Goodness, that is done; he seemed in a pretty good temper.” And H.M.I. said to his colleague: “Nice old boy. What induced him to marry _her_? Never mind; sha’n’t see her again for a year. What school to-morrow? Home, Charlie.” FOOTNOTES: [12] “In respect that it is solitary I like it very well, but in respect that it is private it is a very vile life,” said Touchstone. [13] Certificate printed on parchment, attesting competence as teacher. See Chapter on “Reports.” [14] F. H. Myers, _St. Paul_. CHAPTER X ARCADIA CLERICORUM “I am one that had rather go with sir priest, than sir knight.”--_Twelfth Night._ The chief charm of Norwich, which was my headquarters, lies in its Cathedral. Architecturally it is a delight to the soul of man. Gazing on arcade piled on arcade; Norman pillars, pointed clerestory, and triforium; mystic curves and intersections of window tracery; and the noble vaulted roof above; one could sit undisturbed while the Canon in Residence took his weekly toll of our time, and discharged one-thirteenth of his yearly task: “I ’eered un a bummin’ awaay loik a buzzard-clock ower my yead, An’ I thowt a said whot a owt to ’a said, an’ I comed awaay.” The music was remarkable for the perfect training of the boys’ voices by Dr. Buck, and for the incompetence of the aged men, who, though past work, could not be dismissed, because they were freeholders and had not been convicted of felony; as though petty larceny were a graver offence than singing out of tune! Freehold! always freehold! To me, however, the great attraction was the Dean, Dr. Goulburn. He had been my headmaster at Rugby twenty years earlier; and though I had not had the slightest acquaintance with him, the sight of that familiar face, and the tones of that sonorous voice were sufficient to call up priceless memories of bygone days and long-lost friends.