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.--Chant, 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 trousers, please?