_MASTER HEWLETT AND MASTER NIGHTINGALE._
(Rather a cold winter night.)
_Hewlett (flinging a shoe at Master Nightingale's bed, with which he
hits that young gentleman.)_ Hullo! You! Get up and bring me that shoe.
[Illustration: 0066]
_Nightingale._ Yes, Hewlett. _(He gets up.)_
_Hewlett_. Don't drop it, and be very careful of it, Sir.
_Nightingale_. Yes, Hewlett.
_Hewlett_. Silence in the Dormitory! Any boy who opens his mouth I'll
murder him. Now, Sir, are not you the boy what can sing?
_Nightingale_. Yes, Hewlett.
_Hewlett_. Chaunt then till I go to sleep, and if I wake when you stop,
you 'll have this at your head.
[Master Hewlett lays his Bluchers on the bed, ready to shy at Master
Nightingale's head in the case contemplated.
_Nightingale (timidly.)_ Please, Hewlett?
_Hewlett_. Well, Sir.
_Nightingale_. May I put on my trowsers, please? _Hewlett. No_, Sir. Go
on, or I '11--
_Nightingale_,
"Through pleasures and palaces
Though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,
There's no place like home.
"Home, home! sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like ho-ome!