"Though a man's lot be humble," they said, "his thoughts may be rich in fancy; he may have a song to sing." So they formed a guild devoted to the cultivation of poetry and music, and the members of this guild were called Master Singers. Every man who wished to enter the guild was obliged to write some verses,--according to the rules of the guild; and to compose appropriate music for those verses,--according to the rules of the guild; and, finally, to sing them both together,--according to the rules of the guild. Then if the masters approved of his performance, he became one of the Master Singers of Nuremberg. And great was the honor conferred upon him when he reached this high estate! Many had tried, but few had been chosen. Indeed, the entire guild was composed of but twelve members. These were, for the most part, worthy men, devoted to their trades and to music. And each one had a boy apprenticed to him, to whom he taught cobbling or soap-making or baking or tailoring by day, and the Art of Song by night. Among the Master Singers of Nuremberg none is better remembered than Hans Sachs. He was a cobbler by trade and a poet by nature, and his songs and verses have outlived his boots by many a year. It is of his part in a song festival of the Master Singers hundreds of years ago that our story has to tell. II It began on the day before the feast of St. John in St. Catherine's Church, which was really not the proper place for a love affair to begin at all. But what did Eva Pogner or Sir Walter von Stolzing care for that? The only thing that mattered to them was the joyous Springtime which had stolen in through the open chancel window and had warmed their hearts toward everything in the world,--but most of all toward each other. Sir Walter stood leaning against a great stone pillar at the back of the church. He wore a blue velvet suit, his hat had a long white plume, and he was as handsome a young knight as one could ever wish to see. Pretty Eva sat in the last pew with her maid Magdalena by her side. Her head was bent, and her eyes were upon her prayer book, as befitted a modest maiden. Still she saw Sir Walter very plainly. In fact, somehow, she caught every message that his dark eyes sent across the church. And her cheeks turned rosy, and her heart grew warmer than ever the Springtime had made it. Indeed, those glances so confused her that she lost her place in the hymn book. Magdalena noticed it and nudged her mistress sharply. So Eva sent one glance back to the fascinating young knight, just a little frightened one; and then she joined in the closing hymn. But when she lifted up her joyous young voice and made it ring high above all the rest, Sir Walter stared harder than ever. The young knight had loved this light-hearted maiden since he had first seen her in her father's house. And his only wish was to win her for his bride. But how? Suppose she were already promised to some one else!