But, though the parents were illiterate, they knew the value of a good education. The Free Grammar School had been refounded a few years before by Edward VI. And although there is no actual record of his school days, we may take it as certain that little Will Shakspere was sent to the Free School when about seven years old, as we know his brother Gilbert was, a little later. The old Grammar School still stands; and boys still learn their lessons in the self-same room with the high pitched roof and oaken beams, where little Will Shakspere studied his "A, B, C-book," and got his earliest notions of Latin. But during part of Shakspere's school days the schoolroom was under repair; and boys and master--Walter Roche by name--migrated for a while to the Guild Chapel next door. And this was surely in the poet's mind when, in later years, he talked of a "pedant who keeps a school i' the church." All boys learned their Latin then from two well-known books--the "Accidence" and the "Sententiæ Pueriles." And that William was no exception to the rule we may see by translations from the latter in several of his plays, and by an account, in one of his plays, of Master Page's examination in the "Accidence." An old desk which came from the Grammar School and stood there in Shakspere's time is shown at the birthplace. And when we look at it we wonder what sort of a boy little William was--whether his future greatness made a mark in any way during his school days; whether that conical forehead of his stood him in good stead as he learned his Latin Grammar; whether he was quiet and studious, or merry and mischievous; whether he hid dormice and apples and birds' eggs in his desk, and peeped at them during school hours; whether he got into scrapes and was whipped. Just think of Shakspere getting a whipping! No doubt he often did. Masters in those days were not greater, but rather less, respecters of persons than they are now, and they believed very firmly in the adage which is going out of fashion, that to spare the rod is to spoil the child. So we may think of little Will Shakspere coming out of the Grammar School and passing the old Guild Chapel and the Falcon Inn with two little red fists crammed into two little red and streaming eyes, and going home to mother Mary in Henley street to be comforted and coddled and popped down on the settle in the wide chimney corner, with some dainty, dear to the heart of small boys who got into trouble three hundred years ago just as they do now. Let us hope his cake was not like one he describes as "dough on both sides." [Illustration: THE LARGE SCHOOLROOM IN THE OLD GRAMMAR SCHOOL AT STRATFORD.]