IL

LINO I S

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN

PRODUCTION NOTE
University of Illinois at
Urbana-Champaign Library
Brittle Books Project, 2012.

COPYRIGHT NOTIFICATION
In Public Domain.
Published prior to 1923.

This digital copy was made from the printed version held
by the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
It was made in compliance with copyright law.
Prepared for the Brittle Books Project, Main Library,
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
by
Northern Micrographics
Brookhaven Bindery
La Crosse, Wisconsin
2012

1Red

PB.PoQER, M. A.,

Autb~or of "The Oiled fegtber"k~

THE
ROYAL
PROGRESS
OF s.
KING PEPITO. By BEATRICE F:,
CRESSWELL, Illustrated in colours by

NOTICE TO ADYEITISERS.

KATE GREENAWAY.

boards
ALL COMMUNICATIONS

ADVERTISEMENTS

RESPECTING

SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO

& I8, ARUNDEL

......

o

PICTORIAL
PROVERBS
FOR
LITTLE PEOPLE, Withcoloured
Illustrations. Small 4to.
Paper
boards
.
..
...........
o 6
SHORT
TALES
FOR
LITTLE
FOLK. With coloured Illustrations.
Small 4to. Paper boards ..
..
..
o 6

Hart's Advertising Lffices,
17

Small 4to. Paper

........

ST.,

THE CHILD'S PICTORIAL,

STRAND, W.C.

A Monthly Coloured Magazine.

PRICE 2d.

Rowland's
Macassar
Oil

Yearly Volume, containing 12 numbers, paper boards,2/-;
Cloth Boards, 2a6.

Among the chief contributors
Mrs. MACQUOID, Mrs. SITWELL,
POTTER, &c.
The illustrations
MORGAN, Esq., HARRISON
EIR,
artists.

are Mrs. MOLESWORTH,
Mrs. EPes, Mr. F. S.
are furnished by \V. J.
Esq., and other known

Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.

Preserves and strengthens the hair of Children and Adults.
Also sold in a Golden Colour.

London: NorthumberlandAvenue,
Charing Cross, W.C,; 43, Queen Victoria Street, E.C.
Brighton: 135, North Street.

FICTION FOR THE MILLION.
Arrangements have been made with
distinguished Writers for a Series of Penny Stories, to meet the growing popular demand for
cheap, wholesome, and interesting Literature, and thus help displace some of the noxious Penny Literature in circulation.
Each Story is complete in itself, and consists of 32 pages, demy 8vo, double columns; with Pictorial Wrapper.

to

IP

J

ON
1-

CE

PE:

T
I1rTY.

The names of the Writers will be sufficient guarantee as to the character and interest

THREE TIMES TRIED. By B.L. FARJEON.
By the Author of
FEATHER.
GOLDEN
" MEHALAH," &C.
FOR

DICK'S

SAKE.

By Mrs.

MARINE ARMOUR. By G. MANVILLE
IN
MY FENSOLN.DIER KEEPER. By C. PHILLIPPS-

ViCTRIX."

WOLLEY.

SAVED BY THE SKIN OF HIS TEE'
By HELEN SHIPTON.
LORD JOHN. By G. MANVILLE FENN.
GONE.

Tales.

ALLEN.

RIDDELL,

Author of" GEORGE GEITH," &C.
SLIPPING AWAY. By the Author of"VICTA

of these

PAYING
THE PENALTY.
By CHARLES
GIBBON.
A TERRIBLE INHERITANCE. By GRANT

By KATHARINE S.

=I.

BY TELEGRAPH. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
CONSTABLE A 1. By JESSIE M. E. SAXBY.
STAUNCH-A Story of Steel. By G. MANVILLE
FENN.

MACQUOID.

Volumes containing Six Stories in each, in paper boards, price 6d.

NEW

PENNY

SERIES

OF

POPULAR

TALES.

Imperial 8vo, 16 pages, Illustrated Paper Cover.
THE
TWO WHALERS: or, Adventures
AN EVENTFUL NIGHT, and What Came
in the Pacific. By the late W. H, G KINGSTON.
of it.
ROB NIXON, the Old White Trapper; a
By the late
THE
LILY OF LEYDEN.
Tale of British North America. By the late
V. H. G. KINGSTON.
WV. H. G. KINGSTON.
MOUNTAIN MOGGY; or, the Stoning of
WHITER THAN SNOW.
the Witch. By the late W. H. G. KINGSTON.
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,
London: Northumberland Avenue, Charing Cross, W.C.; 43, Queen Victoria St., E.C. Brighton: 135, North St.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE
MINSTER.

BY THE

REV. P. B. POWER,

M.A.,

Author of " The Oiled Feather," etc.

PUBLISHED

UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE.

LONDON:
SOCIETY

FOR

PROMOTING

CHRISTIAN

KNOWLEDGE,

NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, W.C.; 43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C.

BRIGHTON:

135, NORTH STREET.

NEW YORK: E, 8: J. B. YOUNG & CO.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

i.
.

f

4>

THIIE house

of Doctor

tGathorne
Ha"Hautboy had

-7

been at one
time the very
home of song.
Gathorne

I IHautboy,

have thought that, whatever the
Minster had to do with imagination,
it had not anything much to do with
emotion; but that would be to know
only the Minster's outside; for the
music of its bells, floating out of those
stone towers, woke dreamy thoughts
of unearthly lands in many a heart.
They floated down the river; they

ofHarlestone

wandered over the meadow; they
tarried in the woods; they passed unchallenged through the strong oak

Minster, and
was as well known all the country
round, as the great grey towers which

branches; they dallied with the tender
buttercups, and daisies-and then
died away, and went, whither none

loomed up heavily against the sky,

could tell.

Mus.

Doe.,

was organist
S.

Wonderful preachers were those
old towers.
In muffled peals they
fortress wherein was kept watch and
sang of human sadness, in bobmajors
ward on God's behalf, and that of the
souls of men, against the Prince of they rang out on wedding-morns the
this world, who once, pointing out all hopes of human gladness-and tollhuman things, declared that they toll-they preached in far-reaching
as though they were some gigantic

were his-and that,

to whom he

willed, such things he gave.
To look at that mass of grey, and,
in many parts, lichen-covered stone;
to see its huge buttresses, one would

vibrations, they sang in solemn monotone, the awfulness of the departure
of a human soul.
And if the old Minster was rocal
from the outside, it might be truly
-$

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

said to have been no less vocal within ;

furrows, but had contented itself with

for there, from roof to roof, creeping

stroking with its white and bloodless

up pillar, and circling round architrave,

hand her chestnut hair.

and arch, and boss, and diffusing itself
in the groined roof above, anthem and

needs touch her somewhere-it must
needs do something as it was wont, but

chorale, fugue and plain song, and
psalm and hymn filled it now with
holy sound-even as requiem and mass

that "something " was its least ; Time
left Madeline her youth of face, but
thus kept some sort of score as he

used to do in olden days.

flew by.

And Dr.

Gathorne Hautboy might in one sense
have been said to have been at the
bottom of it all; for it was from the organ
that there rolled out those bass thunders
and those bright hallelujahs; and it
was his choir that brought the tears
into many eyes, and that smote with
contrition many hearts; and that, in
David's psalms, woke up hateful memories of sin, and helped men, Davidlike, to cast themselves for deliverance
upon the tender mercies of their God.
For Dr. Gathorne Hautboy's choir was
the best in all the country round; and
folk sometimes came a long way to
hear him play, and to hear them
sing.

It

must

Ah, yes! and a little more
than the hair he meddled with; he
passed that same hand over Madeline's
brow, and though he left no wrinkle
there, he left a shade-a shade of sadness. Time I had not he in his fulness brought her her little Gabriel,
and had not he, in but little fulness,
taken him away all too soon; and that,
when he was destined by her husband
to be the treble of trebles who had
ever sung in the old Minster!
It was that little treble " hat was
to be " who with his tiny fingers had
scored such deep fubows in the old
Doctor's brow.

For had not the

Doctor expected great things of him,
and had he not been sorely disap-

At the time of which we write, the
organist of Harlestone Minster was

pointed?

some sixty years of age, and Madeline
his wife was some score of years

was, or ever had been, by his achieve-

younger.

the one who was to make possible the
performance of the Doctor's great

Time had been stern with

the Doctor, tender with his wife.
had seamed the old man'

It

face with

Was not he to make the
Minster still more famous than it then
ments in song ?

Was not he to be

pathem in A major, in which ther

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

were notes higher than any of his

I don't believe he's easy in his mind;

almost lower than any cathedral's bass

I don't believe any Christian could
growl so deep as that, if he hadn't

could reach !

something on him.

choir-boys could touch;

and some,

I believe he goes

Ah ! he could

a deal deeper down than the crypt,"

manage them-he had written them

said Mrs. Scrubbers, pointing myste-

down fearlessly in his score--Crawford

riously and significantly with her fore-

Growles, the half-German, with his

finger to some lower regions-" it may

guttural throat could go down to

be to the middle of the world-it may

Those low notes!

below the bass stave.

0

Yes! Crawford

be out at the other side.

I heard one

Growles was at present the glory of

of the choir--Mr. Jenkins, the tenor

the Minster; people came sometimes

-point to him and say, 'De profundis.'

from long distances to hear him.

I don't know what that means, but

Down, down, down, like a bucket going

most likely 'tis something very bad-

down a well, would the voice descend,

worse than common folk had better

until it seemed to pass from his throat

know.

to his chest, and his chest to his boots,

think plain folk who wish to walk

and his boots to the crypt over which

straight, and do their duty in that

It was awful to hear him

state to which they were called, had

when the anthem said anything about

better not have anything to do with

"the sea and the waves roaring, and
men's hearts failing them for fear," or

that.

aboutthe " voice of the thunder." You

who'll beat Mr. Crawford Growles,

felt yourself vibrating in spite of your-

and sing as high, as he sings low, and

the

take the shine out of him-(if he shines

Minster laundress, said, "the horrors
came all over you, and you became all

at all) I'd say ' the shadows '-and I

"I'm a'most afraid

be complete until we have that little

to wash his surplice," the good woman
used to say; "I'm afraid to hear it

lad's surplice-bless his little heart 1 "

groaning in the wash-tub; and some
day I'm afraid the iron will drop out

Doctor's little boy," said Miss Jemima

of my hand, when I'm smoothing it.

seconded the anathemas of her principal

he stood.

self; and as Mrs. Scrubbers,

gooseflesh inside."

'Tis Latin, I'm told; and I

We'll never get right at the

Minster until we have some little lad

tell you what, our washing will never

"And it was to have been the
Peers, after she had, as in duty bound,

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

said he had the voice of a canary-

sea-lions growls terrible; I'd make
him one of them, and I'd send him

and now he's agone-and Mr. Growles

about in a carawan, that I would;

has it all to himself, as he's had all

and I hope the dwarf would pinch

along-and unless we're sent an angel

him, and the giant punch his head,

from heaven, or some little lad, nobody

and the lady with pink eyes and piebald hair scratch his face, and the

on the wicked Bass.

"The Doctor

knows from where, Mr. Growles will
falls-there's a bad crack, they say, in

alligator bite him when he howled and
growled, and made believe that 'twas

one of the towers, and the nose is off

the end of the world, or a bad thunder-

one of those images as spouts the

storm comin' on. But, as I knows, we
can't do all this, which is as should be
done, if it could, but it can't; then

have it to himself until the Minster

rain-water from the roof-or until the
end of the world.
Scrubbers,

Look here, Mrs.

here's what I'd do, if

they'd only be said by one who's only
second in the laundry"

(and Miss

Jemima curtsied in the direction of
Mrs. Scrubbers, for the needle of the
compass by which Miss Jemima steered
her course in life always pointed in
that direction), " I know I says it as
shouldn't before my betters; but if we
could get a little lad as had come
down somehow from a bird-a little

here's what I'd do !-I'd send to the
Canaries straight for a boy-that's the
name of the islands where the birds come
from. I'd say, 'Look out a boy as puts
his head a one side, and looks as if he
is thinking, and as lively as if he is
hopping from perch to perch, and one
as is fond of sugar and hempseed;
and if you can get one as is fond of
groundsel, (I don't mind even if it's
cooked-so much the better)-that's

for a mother, so as to mix up the

the lad for us ; the groundsel will settle
the business; and where," said Miss
Jemima Peers, looking at her principal,

warbling and the whistling of the two
-I think, now, that would put Mr.

as though they had together fought a
great battle which, through the alliance

Growles somewhere amongst the wild

of Miss Jemima, and her help at a

beasts in the 'owlin' wilderness, and

critical point, had been won, " where
will Growles be then ?"

'un as was hatched irregular, with a
blackbird for a father, and a thrush

that would be a proper place for him,
if only he knowed it.

I heer'd the

There was no going farther than

TIHE CHOIR-BOY OF IHARLESTONE MINSTER.

that question.

It meant the "un-

answerable" and the "unknowable."
In the matter of Growles it made
Agnostics of Mrs. Scrubbers and her
sub. Growles was demolished, and
they were happy.
It says a great deal for the vitality
of the human race that, after having
been trampled upon and, so to speak,
been cut into small pieces, minced,

people out of their wits, as he growled,
and murmured, and muttered there.
Such folks as were not scientific, and
expected to see the lightning after they
heard the thunder, might have been
excused in that they expected a flash,
and a start, when Growles with his
voice, and Dr. Hautboy on his organ,
seemed to be trying which could go the
lowest.

peeled, shredded, pounded by their
neighbours, and sometimes dearest

I have said that Crawford Growles,
the Bass of Harlestone Minster (the

friends, people survive it all; and the
pieces come together again, as though

"wicked bass" of Mrs. Scrubbers and
Miss Jemima Peers), had a good

nothing had happened, their own good
opinion of themselves being quite

opinion of himself. He lived in the
calm contemplation of being unique, of

sufficient for the restorative process,
and for their after comfort. In this

being in the capacity of " Bass " unapproachable. Others may trill as

they live, before they are squashed;
and by this they live, after they are

they pleased; he had to give but one

squashed.

As to the altos, every one of them

This good opinion of himself the
Bass of Harlestone Minster certainly

would crack, and goodness knows what

enjoyed.

He knew that he could

whistles, or it may be to nothing at

reach C below the bass stave, and

all; and as to the tenors, and so forth,

nobody else could; he knew that he

well, it was known what they had

was the one unapproachable piece of

come to; and, compared to him, it was

talent in the choir; there were several

nothing much.

tenors, several altos, an excellent set of

Bass in the organist's

trebles also, no doubt, but whilst no

Did he not know of that anthem

voice could ascend to the Minster's

which could not be performed for

roof, his could, so to speak, walk about

want of the treble, unfound as yet?
Was not he equal to the bass which

in the very crypt, and half-frighten

thunder-roll, and they were nowhere.

they would come to; perhaps to penny

Moreover, was not the
confidence?

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

was also indispensable

for its per-

have liked to back the larynx against

formance ?

All these were elements
of satisfaction, which were not lightly

them all. The history of that curious
little box and its chords-well-he

to be thrown aside.

But if ever any
lurking idea of his own unapproach-

hoped they'd all have to wait a while

ableness came over him, which he
could not at once dispel with a speci-

they were at it, wouldn't the wicked

men growl, which said " Match me

deepest growls, and scatter the whole

that if you can," the great Bass re-

College, scalpels, and spectacles, and

assured himself by passing his hand
over his ample breast. There was a

all their etceteras, to the four winds of

wind chest indeed ! or by stroking his
throat, tarrying meditatively for a few

This was the state of things at

before they found it out; and while
Bass be glad if he could give one of his

heaven. {
Harlestone

Minster at the time of

moments on the larynx, for was there
not something to be said about that ?
Had not Dr. Greaves expressed his

which I write.

wish to have that larynx, and had
not the great Bass actually left it in
his will to the Doctor if he should be
the survivor; and if not, then to the

Madeline,

College of Surgeons, who were to write

peace.

a report on it, illustrated by coloured

singing in some far-off place-or she

engravings, and so hand down the
great Bass to posterity ? Dr. Greaves

thought she could-which was the

never saw that throat but that he

her head in meek submission, but that

longed to have his scalpel into it, and
the Bass never saw Dr. Greaves but
that he hoped it might be long before he

she thought she heard a note--a high,
wanted for the anthem; so that she

had the chance.

As to the College of

believed the note existed, only it be-

Surgeons, he could not help himself as
regards them; they couldn't die first,

longed to the heavenlies, and how

from the simple fact that they could not

Madeline often wondered whether one

die at all, otherwise the Bass would

of the reasons why such as that little

Dr. Gathorne Haut-

boy was growing old, and his anthem
was never likely to be performed.
his wife,

had no other

little boy to replace the one that was
gone.

The Doctor chafed under his

disappointment, but Madeline was at
She could hear the little one

same to her; and never did she bow

high note-the very note her husband

could

it be

embodied

on

earth?

THE CHOIR-BOY OF IHARLESTONE MINSTER.

lad was taken was, because they had

I

music in heaven after the manner of
the earth; and whether the high, high

gone-the one and the self-same babe.
The gentle Madeline bowed her head
and was strong-the strong Doctor

of the mouths of babes and sucklings

bowed not, and was weak.
Well, time had passed since the
Doctor's and Madeline's little Gabriel

hast Thou perfected praise."

had gone, and things had settled down

trebles were not supplied by them-she was very fond of that verse, " Out

Who can tell why mothers mourn
when their babies are gone ? All time
seems dead against them-it all says

in the organist's house in the corner of
the close.

The Doctor, who had looked
forward to his little Gabriel's singing

The past--a the anthem's highest note, had ceased
baby's little past! how short in itself to expect that it would ever be sung;
-how long, spaced out by the measur- but Madeline, his wife, full of hope

that they must weep.

ings of a mother's heart-the sitting at
the right hand and the left of all

and faith, believed that in some way

honour-the triumphs to be won--the

husband's conception of this anthem

reflected lights upon herself-these

would not be for ever a mere thought;

hopes all crushed; and even if they
had never been, the simple emptiness,

embodied in sound it yet must surely
be. She would wait. The patient

nay, call it not simple emptiness, the
great chasm in the heart. Who can

waitings of women are wonderful.
They have won great victories. She

be rent and torn, and yet be as though
they were whole? Babies fill but

could wait.

little spaces in outer life; the mother's

was to be was naught to her.

fold of an arm is enough to encompass

was to be, was all with which she had

them; the little cot is enough to house
them; but in inner life, in the inner

to do.

life of a mother's heart, they fill (save

or other it would yet be heard.

Her

Their faith is great.
She could believe. How the thing
That it

Thus things were with Dr. Gathorne
Hautboy and his wife, when one day

the chasm that it leaves ?

the organist came home from the
Minster library with a strange-looking
book. It was bound in vellum, and

And Madeline IHautboy's babe had
gone, and Dr. Gathorne's babe had

was fastened together with two large
clasps. It was written in black letter

as all first belongs to Christ,) all space.
When a babe has gone, who can tell

A5

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

on parchment, and in Latin ; and from
his manner the organist's wife could
see that he had something with him

end; and who comes to see if there is

on which he set great store.
"Madeline," said the Doctor, "I
fLund in the Minster library a book of

the father of all of such as handle the
organ, or this book, supposing he could

anything that lies in his way. He
hasn't come, I suppose, as yet, to Jubal

have it to read at home.

It has in it

have guessed at its contents, might
have been of some use to him. I am
given a month by the librarian; and

many things about music.

It has in it

now, good wife, you will let me shut

even some new anthems, and chants,
and some theories which appear to me

myself up every night after supper,

to be speculative, but they may have
in them much of truth. Moreover,
the book contains a life, or part life of

far into the night as I like, until I

the author, and I must give myself up
to the study of it (and, if need be, to
the copying of it), until I have made

line, that I know Latin as well as I

The book was

And so the Doctor of Music shut

on a high shelf which no one, to judge
by the dust on it, ever goes near; and,

himself up in his study--the place

as to the librarian, he knew nothing
about it, except that it was in the
catalogue. Indeed, for the matter of

grieve for his little lad-and for a
whole month he was to sit up all night

that, I don't think he knows or cares
much about any of the books, except

man fail coming on the small hours

great price.

The librarian has let me

myself master of it.

that their names are in the catalogues,
and they themselves on the shelves.
He thinks that is all he has to do with
them. He says no one comes near the
place but myself, except it be an old
prebendary from the country, who is
writing a history of the world from its

when all is quiet; and let me read as
make myself master of this book so
far as I can.
do.

What a blessing, Made-

If there is anything Worth having

in the book, I'll get it."

where he used to shut himself up to

if he liked.

And should the natural

of the morning, a tray was placed by
loving hands in a corner of the room,
with something on it, that that natural
man might be strengthened, and be able
to pursue the needful studies in peace.
There was a mixture of curiosity,
eagerness, and awe in the organist of
Harlestone Minster, as, his door shut

creation, with its probable career to its I and locked, he sat down in front of a

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

pail of candles, to study the parch-

in it, mine own thoughts on the divine

ment-covered book.

art of music, how I have fallen by

It was a folio-

written in black letters, with great
care, the first part containing matters

song, and how by song have I been

connected with the author himself;

which, like holy St. Austin, I freely )

the second some theories of music,

make; and at the end of this book

and dissertations thereon; the third a

will be found my departure hence,

collection of anthems and chants, and

which Brother Clement hath pro-

scraps, and services of church music,

mised that he will write, so that there

of various kinds.

may be nothing wanting in the history

These latter would have chiefly oc-

restored.

Here are my confessions,

of my life."

that he felt compelled by some inward

The Doctor began to be rivetted on
the page which he was somewhat

feeling to begin at the beginning, and

slowly and laboriously translating,

learn something of the man whose
music he was about to study; and, it

partly because of the black-letter writing, and partly, because his Latin was

may be, learn from, and enjoy.

not quite so fresh as he thought.

cupied the organist's attention, but

And

Dr. Gathorne was not sorry that he
began at page No. 1.

The Doctor had studied the science
of music ; Boithius's voluminous Latin

My readers will excuse my giving

treatise he might be said to have at his
fingers' ends; he knew the ancient dis-

only a free translation of such parts of
be made acquainted with, which mani-

sertations of Pythagoras and Aristoxenus and Ptolemy; he could tell all about

festly must be a very small portion,

the mathematical ratios of intervals,

owing to the limited space at my

and the old Greek scales, and no one
knows what besides. All that Tarlino,

the book as it is necessary they should

command.
"This book is written by me, Fra
Bonavia, of Mantua, in Italy, a brother

and Fux, and Padre Martini had to say

of the order of St. Augustine, in the

Doctor know; but here was something

Monastery of Harlestone, in the kingIn it is contained

touching the inner life of one who, at
a glance at his music, he could see was

the anthems and all holy song which
have come to me in the night watches:

a master of song; and so the Doctor
read with all his eyes:--

dom of England.

on counterpoint and fugue, that did the

THE CHOIR-BOY

OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

"The Doctor read with all his eyes."--Pig' 11.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

family, though with earthly position I

speak as a monk, or as a nian? I
leave it undecided, it is too deep for

have nothing now to do.

me to settle.

'I,

Fra Bonavia, am of princely

13

I was the

son-the younger-of a ducal house.
My mother vowed me young to the
service of Holy Church; and my
father having squandered at gaming

Let me chronicle what

was-shall I say what was not--alas I
am I not torn at the thought? Why
should I '
utter my dark sayings upon
the harp ?'

and in show much of the property

Why should my words
be like the voice of winds, and chime

belonging to our family, was willing

of waves, and the song of birds, all of

that I should be provided for by becoming a priest. I was not averse to

which are in the minor key ? Shall I
give vent to my feelings, as well as

the thought as I grew up, for I was of
a mild and gentle disposition; and,

maintain my reserve, by means of
music, putting the story of my life's

above all things, given to the music of
the Church. The world seemed to me,

sorrow into notes instead of words?

even when' young, little to be desired ;
and I looked forward with eagerness
to the day when I should leave it altogether.

Nay, I must write, that I may feel
that someone hereafter may be a sympathiser in my woe.

Sympathy even

down along the ages is sweet.

I will

seek its solace with my pen.

one years of age, when, in a manner

"Hard by the palace where my mother
lay dying was another one stricken

wholly unexpected, my life became

unto death.

changed.
" My mother was on her dying bed;

-this

and she sent for me to be with her at
I sat with her by day and

home-for her sake, let me say, for
hers; and yet mother and daughter

night, only leaving her for necessary

were so bound together that they might

rest and air.

have been said to have been one.

"Thus I grew up until I was twenty-

the last.

Shall I say 'would that

She belonged to England
country in which now I live-

which for her sake I have made my

The

I could have done without the air ?'

fair girl who lived for her mother had

for through the need of that air was

to walk abroad and take the air, even

broken the rest and quiet of my life.

as I had. She was worn with watching

"Oh, sweet disturber, oh, sad disturbance, what shall I say?

Shall I

her mother, even as I was with watching mine. She never went farther than

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

up and down in front of where they

morial its medicinal fame.*

lodged; and there I saw her day by

was the English girl's name that was
dowered with the saint's music, as

day.

Ah! why did those eyes, and

Cecilia

that long fair hair, and that soft voice,

with her name.

and slender form ever cross my path-the path of one destined for another

away amid the mountains, was enough
for us; and for her I abandoned that

kind of life than that which had made

calling which forbade me to have a wife.

her mistress of my home as of my

There we lived, and there our little
Cecilia was born-and there the mother

heart ?

But it was my fate.

The

My little estate, far

mother died, and my mother died

died.

almost at the self-same time ; and now

"And I, how could I bring up her
little child? Ah! woe is me now. I

she was desolate and unprotected, and
I was desolate too. She was weak and
far away from all who could help her ;
I was strong, and among my own
people.

I became her friend. My old

nurse took her under her own roof, but
she did not need that shelter long. We

see, when it is too late, that I should
have devoted myself to watching and
training her up, if by any means the
world might have been blessed by having one like her who had departed. I

were kindred spirits; we solaced our

left her with her old nurse, and all the
property, and fled from the world, fled

sorrows with music and each other ; we
mingled our voices and our tears.

to the country where my wife Cecilia
was born-to die, breathing the air

Music is a great teacher, and a great
binder, a binder of wounds, and a

that she had breathed.

binder of hearts.

Heliose's was the
same as Phcebus Apollo, the god of day

When my country's troubles came
nurse and child had to flee, and whither

and light, and the father of £Esculapius,

they wandered, or if they lived, who

the god of medicine, if not the god of
medicine and healingin his own person.

can tell ? But I feel that my little

The old idea was the sun, the fountain

voice be heard, and for that she would

Woe is me,

I never heard of the child again.

Cicily was not slain.

Once let that

of light ; hence flowed light and health,
and that same deity provided our
music, one of the soul's chief comforters
and healers, whence from time imme-

* " The poets," says Bacon," did well to conjoin music and medicine in Apollo, since the
office of medicine is but to tune that curious
harp of man's body and to reduce it to
harmony."

THE CHOIR-DBO

2S

OP HARLESTONE MINSTER.

be spared, for during the four years of f Minster that hath sheltered thy foreher life with her mother she caught

father in his sorrow, and pay them

those tones. True, there was a monster

back their charity with the dower of

who had a dish of nightingales' tongues,

thy race-the voice which belongs to

but he was alone. Did not the enemy

the Bonavias alone.

spare those who could repeat even but

child, and sing the note which none

a few of Homer's lines-music in them

but thy people can touch-which thy

Did not Amurath, Sultan of

forefather hath written, but which

Turkey, spare the 30,000 captive Per-

none have sung, for it hath been kept
for thee.'

all ?

sians when one of them played to him
upon the lute ? My Cicily lives-lives
for her voice's sake, but never shall I
see her again.

But she carries her

talisman with her-her dower-unscathed. Will she pass with it through
earth, and with it, for celestial use,

Go, my far-off

"So be it, say I, Fra Bonavia.
May one of my Cecilia's blood sing in
that Minster the note of notes, and
repay the English the hospitality they
have shown to a stranger, their respect for the silence of his grief."

enter into heaven ? "
"Doth the spirit of prophecy now

At the end of the book was some

move the spirits of mortal men?

writing in another hand. We need
give but as much as is needed to tell

Comes it in visions of the night as it
came of old ? If it cometh, then hath
it come to me. Lo! my Cicily, grown

us of Fra Bonavia's end.
"Hereby

do I, Brother Clement,

to woman's estate, and by her side a
Ah ! in him my
fair young child.

of this Harlestone Minster, fulfil the
last wish of my beloved Fra Bonavia,

own Cecilia again; and down through
generations ever the same face, and

who has passed at last beyond his
earthly woes. He departed hence on

hair, and voice.

Cecilias the mothers

St. Cecilia's Day.

He had many

of Gabriels, and Gabriels the fathers
of Cecilias, until I see the image of

visions on his dying bed, saying that
he heard harpers harping with their

my loved one at this monastery's door.
It is not she, but it is her flesh and

harps, and that he saw saints clothed

blood; and she is. I hear her speak
-' Go, little Gabriel, go to the

time in the year, when song-birds are

in white raiment.

It being the dullest

silent and sad (November 22nd), lo!

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

a bira with plumage unlike any in

are his anthems and pieces of holy

our groves, escaped, it may be, from
some lady's cage, but surely from

song; some beyond all mortal rendering, but, as he saith, possible for the

some foreign clime, came upon the
window-ledge of Fra Bonavia's cell,

angelic choirs.

and struck three times with its beak
against the glass.
I opened the

vealed to him, who am I that I should

window, and it flew in, and perched

here? May the child of whom he
spake come at some time to the Minster

upon the head of Fra Bonavia's pallet,
and there it sang-sang thrice-and
each time was its song unlike our

If any of the music

of the heavenly choirs hath been resay that it should not be written

of Harlestone, and keep up its ancient
fame and glory, or restore it if it

but opened not his eyes when he heard

be lost ; so that its name may remain for ever as the earthly home

the first notes; and when he heard the

of heavenly music,

next, he opened his eyes; and when
he heard the last, he stretched out his

glory, and the head.

birds' notes.

Fra Bonavia smiled,

and that of all
Minsters it may be the crown, and
Amen."

hand, as it ware, to be led away; and
it dropped, and his eyes closed, and
he was dead, and the bird which sang

reader, that I cannot pretend to tell

high- high up above the notes of all

you all, or any considerable part, or,

our birds-was gone.

While that

indeed, I might almost say, anything

long high note was swelling, it passed

at all of the ancient brass-bound book,

through the window again; it seemed

written by Fra Bonavia, of Harlestone

as if Fra Bonavia's spirit floated away

Minster, and containing the postscript

on the bosom of that song.

of Brother Clement.

"So died Fra Bonavia, whose meditations and confessions, whose sorrows

cannot tell you all that Fra Bonavia

and whose aspirations, are recorded

boy came forth from his study in the

with his own hands in this book, in

small hours of the morning, each

which also will be found his theories
of music and science, which I do not

morning for many days almost like a

comprehend, but which he says will

ing in his sleep.

hereafter be found true.

Bonavia was dreamland to him, and

Here, too,

I have already advertised you, good

But though I

wrote, I know that Gathorne Haut-

man who was sleeping, and was walkThe life of Fra

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

still more so were the wonderful compositions, long and short, which he
found scattered through the book.
"They called Guido of Arezzo ' In-

a stir, even though it be something
small, is very welcome. It is a great
relief when one has worn out Mrs.
Canon's bonnet, and Mrs. Precentor's

ventor Musice'" said the Doctor, as
he closed the book for the last time,

gown, and Mrs. Succentor's gloves, to

" because he added two more lines to

and the bishop's wife down to her

the stave; but what should this man

boots, to have a little something on

be called who opens out the very
correspondences of Nature, so that we

the tapis which will afford reasonable

see the brotherhood

some people is as life.

of Light and

say nothing of Mrs. Dean's sealskin

ground for that small talk which to

Music ? Fra Bonavia has henceforth

Hence the announcement that Dr.

made every sunbeam to be a song, for

Gathorne Hautboy, assisted by the

he has shown me how the fundamental
notes of the musical scale correspond

Cathedral choir and foreign talent,

with the prismatic colours which make

concert, stirred the soul of Harlestone

a sunbeam.

down to Mrs. Scrubbers and her sub.

In the colours thrown

would, on a certain day, give a grand

by the prism upon the wall I hear, as

To Mrs. Scrubbers it was on re-

Fra Bonavia has told me, the sounds

flection an efcellent thing that this

of m'usic in a different sphere, so that

concert should be given, for it was to

whatever is representatively expressed

be in the Town Hall, and the nefarious

in light is representatively expressed

Growles would be done for, seeing

also in the harmonies which please the

there was no crypt there; and that,
unless he intended to go, without

ear; the difference lies only in the
method. Fra Bonavia, all your sor-

making any bones about it, into the

rows ended, may I meet you in the

very bowels of the earth, without

land of all true song; and, meanwhile,

passing through any immediate stage,

may it be in my day that your hope

he must sing up a bit, where people

for Harlestone Minster may be ful-

whose nerves where not strong could

filled; to us may. come the note

follow him, or, at any rate, not have

peculiar to your race."

to shake so much inside as when he

Cathedral towns are proverbially
dull, therefore anything that makes

sang in the Minster.

To this Mrs.

Scrubber's sub said "Amen."

THE CHOIR-BOY

OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

But the minds of the public Were

railroad days, when concert-folk were

exercised upon the foreign talent; for

common; and, above all, Italians, ex-

Growles, though a terrible phenome-

cept in London, were scarce.

non, was, after all, a thing of daily life.

The foreign element in Dr. Haut-

Growles, on the other hand, con-

boy's concert consisted chiefly of Signor

centrated his attention and hopes on

Petrucci, tenor, who dated his ancestry

himself, only wishing, as regards the

from the inventor of musical types of

foreign talent, that they would "come
on," and "try it on," he would show

that name, A.D. 1502, and of Signora
Vitelli, soprano, and Fraulein Meyer,

them a thing or two before they left.

contralto; and they were all lodged

As to that falsetto, who sang some-

at the Mitre Hotel, with the exception
of the Italian lady, Signora Vitelli.

where in the back of his neck or up
where, no one knew where, and those

She and her little boy became the
guests of Dr. Gathorne Hautboy him-

twopenny-halfpenny choir-boys, whose

self, for she was in very delicate health,

larynxes were not worth twopence a

and never before, so far as England

dozen even to the College of Surgeons,

was concerned, having been out of
London, feared a country inn, even

amongst the roots of his hair, or some-

he took no note of them-they were
not worth a thought; but he should

though Signor Petrucci impressed upon

like to try a throw with the foreign

her that it was the "

talent all round.

If it were not for

freely rendered, meant the "Bishop,"

its pedals

heel-and-toe

and therefore must be warm, and snug,

and

work

itre," which,

(which was not fair), Growles would
have liked to have had a throw with

and good.

the Minster organ itself; but now it
was a question of foreign talent.

Hautboy's concert

"Let them come on," that was all !

Signora Vitelli would never have come
to Harlestone. The soprano was, in
fact, ill, very ill; and it gave her as

And in due time they did come on.
They had practised their parts in Lon-

It was well for the success of Dr.
that he

had a

hospitable heart, for, without that,

rehearsals at Harlestone to be equal

much as she could do to get through
her part. But what she did she did

to their work; and all Harlestone was

well.

in a ferment.

dying swan.

don, and required merely three or four

For those were not

It was the last music of the

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

Signora Vitelli sang her last song on
earth at Harlestone, and her last breath

her husband.

she drew within the portals of Harlestone Minster, and in the house of Dr.

of the Signora's illness, when it was
plain she would not last longer than

Gathorne Hautboy, the organist-her

the evening, the Doctor laid his hand

host.

on his wife's shoulder

The concert had been a

great

She had no need, how-

ever, for so doing, for on the last day

"Madeline,

and

said,

no longer shall we be

Signora Vitelli had soared

childless; that little one shall be ours.

away to heights unknown hitherto to

Mark you what his name is-Gabriel.

Even the

Let us count him ours, come back

success,

the Harlestone community.

bishop and the dean were seen amongst

after many years."

those who clapped their hands; and
Mrs. Scrubbers went home rejoicing

who had kept deep locked within his

that Crawford Growles, that wicked

tents of Fra Bonavia's book, believed

old Bass, had been beaten up high, for

that this might be the fulfilment of the

the strange lady went higher at one end

Fra's prophecy, or wish, whichever you

of the scale than he could go low at

be pleased to call it.

the other; and it would have given in

the little one was now only five.

all probability enough to Harlestone to

Hauthoy wondered, but thankfully

talk about for many a long day had

prepared to take the child.

not a sad matter happened to divert

For the Doctor,

own heart, up to the present, the con-

Time would tell;
Mrs.

The last day of Signora Vitelli's life

The soprano lay for a

was partly spent in telling her history

few days sick unto death at the
organist's, and then the foreign lady

to her hostess and her nurse.
" It is well that you should know

died.

it," said she, "as you are to be my

their attention.

She

died

in

gentle

Mrs.

IIautboy's arms, and departed in peace,
leaving to the Doctor and his wife the

child's mother upon earth.

little boy whom she had brought under

black, after the characteristic of my

their roof.

country.

The mother-heart of Mrs. Hautboy

You see

his long golden hair, while mine is
In our family there have

appeared from time to time children

made her long to adopt the fatherless,

with blue eyes and golden hair.

and soon to be motherless, child; but

come from Saxon blood in a far-off

the good woman feared to propose it to

ancestor.

From her, I

They

am called

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

o20

Cecilia.

The name has ever been kept

up in our family, and from a dead
child, long ago dead in far-off times,
he is called Gabriel.

That name has

child in their home and in their hearts
again.
Confidences
changed

now

became

between the

inter-

organist

of

ever been kept up amongst us too.

Harlestone Minster

Mark well his voice.

He will sing,

When she told her husband all that

sing higher than I can sing-away,

little Gabriel's mother had told her,

away up in the skies, above the larks,

then the Doctor saw as in a mirror a

above the clouds.

The golden-haired

transcript of some of what he had read

children in our family have always

in Fra Bonavia's book; but he was

sung; and every one has had a note

cautious.

peculiar to themselves.

and yet it might not.

We have a

and his

Could it be so ?

wife.

It might,

Was this the

tradition that it came down from far-

child through whom, after almost long

off times, from a dead Cecilia, called

ages, Fra Bonavia was to pay the debt

after the Saint-one of your country-

to the monastery that had sheltered

women, who became mingled with us,

him in his sorrow?

and ours. I have breathed upon him
as he lay by my side to dower him, if

and see.

his wife what he had read; and they

so I may, with all I have-breathed

could together watch the development

into his parted lips as he slept. I have

of the child.

He would wait

Meantime he would tell

sung softly in his ears as he lay by my

And so little Gabriel was brought up

side, until he smiled in his sleep, and

in his small early years, Mrs. Hautboy

seemed as though he, too, would imitate
Take him, and may he

watching over his body, and indeed his
mind; and the Doctor keeping his eyes

the kindness with

and his thoughts upon him in the

the notes.

repay in song
which

you

have

brightened

his

matter of music.

There was no one

more alive to the fact that to strain a

mother's dying bed.
So she died; and the next Sunday

voice was to ruin it--that gradually its

the bishop himself preached her funeral

powers must be unfolded, that here a

sermon, and the Doctor played the

little and there a little was to be the

Dead March in "Saul;"

rule of musical advance.

and the

But the

childless Dr. Hautboy and Madeline

Doctor ever kept that one thought

themselves with a

uppermost in his mind; and while

his wife found

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

and far - burden, and

counterpoint,
descant,

and

fugue, and

all

the

awake, heard the sound of song. He
lay and listened to make sure it could

future, there was much for the pre-

be true. It was song without words.
It was the flageolet stop of the organ

sent ; and that, little Gabriel should

playing

mysteries of music, were for the dim

have.

So it came to pass that the

little lad was sung to many a time by
the Doctor's favourite chorister, who
for that very purpose was had in for a
playfellow for his adopted child.

So

room.

somewhere

near

Gabriel's
Putting on his dressing-gown,

he followed it, and there, sitting up in
the little cot, he saw the child-the
tiny fingers apparently playing upon

it came to pass that the Doctor had

the organ, and from the voice streamed
forth the sounds which belonged

him in the Minster many a time, and

thereto.

played flute and flageolet to him on

him, and

the organ.

until, to his great joy, he heard the
very notes which he had despaired of

So it was that there were

song-birds in little Gabriel's room, and
an JEolian harp in the window, and

The Doctor dared not wake
so he

listened---listened

ever hearing rendered in the anthem;

that the organist habituated him to

and at last the sound ceased, the child

the violin's high notes, so that the

smiled and lay down again, with his

boy's ear became formed true as a
about the

chubby cheek on his hand, and his
golden hair all over his pillow; and

I cannot stop, good reader,

the Doctor returned to his bed to

to prove to you by examples, which

dream of the triumph of his anthem,

I undeniably could do, the wonderful exaltation of the natural powers

which would yet worthily be sung.

during sleep, so that, even in the

Hautboy-eager as the latter was to

matter of sound a rustic has so imi-

develop the talent which he had within
his house-the voice of the little lad

silver bell.
voice ?

But what

tated the violin's finest notes that it

Soon without any pressing from Dr.

was long before it was found out
where the supposed instrument was

was heard here, there, and everywhere;

being played; but hearken to what
brought great hope to the organist's

down to rest from his play in the old

Stealing through the house in
dead of night the Doctor, as he lay

And all through the precincts of the
Minster that little nightingale was

heart.

and many a time as he stopped and sat
cloister near the organist's

abode.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLLESTONE MINSTER.

"The

doctor had him in the Mlinster many a
time."-Page 21.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

The old bishop was known to

She could not entrust the work to any

hide behind a pillar lest he should

one else, for there was a secret about it
which the bishop did not caregossipers

known.

disturb a song; and the dean was caught
listening with his hand up to his ear,
for the good man was a little deaf.
And more than once, when the good

to get hold of and toss about. It was
out of one of his own rochets that the
surplice was made. A fancy had

hand upon his head, and said, " Out of

seized him which he could not shake
off that, old as he was, and dignified

the mouth of this babe ordain Thou

as he was, he would like to be identified

Thy praise."

even so far with the brightness and
simplicity of youth--such youth. He
liked to think that the songster's chest

old bishop met the child, he put his

It was on one of these occasions
that the bishop sat down on a piece of
a ruined column, and drawing the
child to him, put his arm round him
and said, "Gabriel, would you like to
be a chorister ? "
"Aye,

some day," said the boy,

with a sparkling eye; "and I shall
wear a white dress, and look like the
angels, and perhaps sing like them
too."

"Nay, you shall be one now," said
the bishop; " you shall have a surplice
and stand amongst the choristers, and
you shall sing when you can."
So the good old man took the child
by the hand to the deanery, and the
dean took the child home to Dr.
Hautboy's; and it was settled that
Gabriel should have a little surplice,
and come in with the rest of the choir.
Gabriel's little surplice was made by
the bishop's wife with her own hands.

would swell under what had been his
garb. It seemed as though he himself would be able to make more melody
within, though from his quavering
voice no sound of song could come
again.
It was a sight to see; that little
mite-for he was but small, even for
his age-heading the procession of
choristers in Harlestone Minster; the
long golden hair floating down his
back, and the clear-cut features of the
Cecilia of ages past lit up with a
brightness which always came upon
them when in the hallowed house.
All Harlestone loved to see him.
The bishop forgot that he ever gave
him top and ball, with which he had
played like any other child, and saw in
him only one that minded him of the
heavenly choirs. The dean lifted his

24

TIlE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

"'
Gabriel, would you like to be a chorister? '"--a-'e::~.

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

25

reading spectacles on to his forehead to

Gabriel than Daw, the costermonger

have a look at him.

boy.

Mrs. Scrubbers

and her faithful sub each said " Bless
his little heart," and believed that they
had succeeded in making his little sur-

Ah ! poor Jack, yours was a hard
fate-a fate that comes to many in
higher degree than yourself.
You

It was a moot point whether they

had that which wanted to be expressed,
but had no power of expression. You

could beat the bishop's sleeves, but
prebends, canons, choristers, succinctor,

were condemned by a gap in your being
to a life which above all others was

precentor, archdeacon, and dean him.

distasteful to you. You-mere Jack
Daw-the costermonger lad, had a soul
full of music. You would have been
an organ, Jack, if you had only had

plice whiter than any of the others.

self, Mrs. Scrubbers had to keep them
all white outside; but their pet's was
the whitest of them all.
It was a curiosity, that little surplice.
Had not Mrs. Scrubbers held it up in
her hands when it was fresh ironed,
and shown it to the Misses Peach, and
their great-aunt, Mrs. Perch; and given
them her views on it; that, it was only
a pattern of what the little lad would
have by-and-bye ? "Talk of coorosities," said Mrs. Scrubbers' sub; I have
a young crocodile stuffed, as my halfbrother

brought

me

home

from

Ameriky, but it ain't half the coorosity

the pipes and the pedals, and the stops
and the keys; but as it was, you had
only two or three notes of a badlyvoiced reed, together with, no doubt,
a tremendous bellows; and no one more
than yourself thought how awful was the
sound when you cried out "Herrings,"
and "Turnips!"

and whatever the
costering at the moment happened to
be.
"Stop!"

cried

Jack

to little

as is this surplice, as is fit for the

Gabriel, as the child rushed for a
moment outside the close after his ball;

British Museum, or the Bank of Eng-

"'ere's cherries

land."

only fourpence a
pound; look on 'em, 'ere's every one

But Mrs. Scrubbers and her sub,
the good bishop and his wife, and Dr.
Hautboy and his gentle Madeline, were

as big as a halfpenny."

not the only admirers which little

very best.

Gabriel had.

No greater admirer had

"But I haven't a halfpenny in my
pocket," said Gabriel, rummaging his
"It don't need," said Jack; "you

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

shall have a whole pound, good weight,
if you'll tell me how you makes those

was that in the good bishop which

I means how you sings about

made him pour it all out); and oh !
how happy did that boy go on his

the close.

I'd give all the costering,
and the. donkdy - though she'd kiss

rounds that day, and many days ! Oh,
how happily did he cry his " Turnips"

me if I asked her-if you'd make me
sing like you. What is it makes you
sing ?"

and his "Herrings"

sounds.

until

his

release

all his days,
from

costering

came.

"I don't know what makes me sing,"

For he heard, and believed it-

said the child. " It is something inside

for hadn't the bishop himself said it-

-it comes ; that's all."
"It makes my life miserable to be
half-croaking, half-screaming, and I

that in the ear of God there was as

longing all the time to be singing in
the choir. Well, here's a handful of

was doing his best with such powers

cherries for you; and some day I'll
sing--maybe I will in heaven-"

position in which God had placed

A hand was laid on Jack's shoulder;
and looking up, to his great dismay,

"There's music," said the bishop,
in your widowed mother's heart, Jack,

he saw no less a personage than the
bishop himself.

when you take her your earnings; and
in your brothers' and sisters', when

The good old man had come on the
two boys unawares; and seeing the

they laugh over the meal that you
have enabled them to have. God's

earnestness of Jack Daw's manner, was
sure that there was something between

choir, Jack, is in your home-aye,

them both.
The episcopal hand was not above
touching a ragged coat. After touching a coster, it was not less a bishop's
than before; in one sense, it was, perhaps, a little more.
Then Jack Daw poured forth all
his longings and all his sorrows (there

much music in the voice of the coster
as in that of the chorister; when he
as God had given him, and in the
him.

and you may have it also in your
heart."
It took Jack some time to take in
the thought, but when he did, he leant
on his Jew's-harp for comfort far less
than before, and was happy bawling
"Bloaters" and "Turnips," until, by
the kind bishop's influence, having
learned and mastered the clarinet, he

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

finally became the leader of a band;

Hautboy's teaching, had done every-

for though Nature had said he should
not sing, she had not said he should

thing for Gabriel's voice; and the Bass

not blow.

the Harlestone choir.

* One only unloving eye in all Harle-

vexation to him to see himself sur-

was now nowhere, as the attraction of
It was bitter

stone fell on the little Minster sun-- passed, and he did not surrender (no,
beam; it was the one set in the skull he never surrendered) without a strugof Crawford Growles-the wicked old

gle.

Bass, who could not abide the child; or
hear people talk of how wonderfully

notes, the deeper went his; until at
last he might be said to have only

he could sing.

rumbled; as if a volcano were getting

The higher mounted Gabriel's

ready for an eruption, or an earthTime flew over the old towers of
Harlestone Minster, as it flies over

quake were coming on.
"I'm

amost afeered to touch that

palace and hut; and over the heads of

surplice of his," said Mrs. Scrubbers;

the people belonging thereto, even as
it does over the heads of people be-

and the sub said, "she was afraid
too." "I'm glad when it's well under

The good

the water," said Mrs. Scrubbers; and

longing to all other places.

old bishop was feebler, the dean could

"I'm glad," said her sub,

not see so well; and now Gabriel, the
choir-b6y of Harlestone Minster, could

And "I wouldn't wash it in the same

really sing.

Dr. Hautboy had trained

"too."

tub with that blessed darling's if you
gave me ever so."

"No,"

said the

And Sunday

him-or, I might almost say, had
helped him to train himself. But I

sub; "not for ever so."

might almost say that, it was only in

sub at the Minster; and at anthem

voice that Time had done anything
for little Gabriel. True, he was a

time their eyes were fixed on their

little, a very little, taller than he used
to be; but somehow the face continued

At last Harlestone was to have

childish still, and he had still his long
golden hair. Gabriel was never destined to be more than a child.
But Time, well improved under Dr.

always found Mrs. Scrubbers and her

dear boy.
another red-letter day in its musical
history-such as it had not had since
the memorable day of the concert, to
assist in which
mother there.

brought

Gabriel's

Dr. Hautboy's great

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

28

anthem was to come off. Great things

faintest indication of the forthcoming

were expected

Country-folk

musical thought, repeating itself in

came in in their carriages to hear it.

fugue-like fashion, and becoming more

Mrs. Scrubbers washed all the surplices clean for it; the bishop had a

distinct as it re-appeared in related
keys, modulating forth into the domi-

fresh pair of sleeves put in for the

nant, and then into the relative minor;

occasion; every choir-boy's father and

then snatches of the principal melody

mother were there; the dean was

caught the ear in the bass and tenor

tremulous; Dr. Hautboy was anxious,

parts, as they opened with the words,

but calm and collected ; Mrs. Hautboy

"Why art thou cast down, O my
soul ?" in the form of a duet. They
ceased, and then followed an interlude

of it.

was pale, and carried a salts-bottle
(recently refilled);

every choir-boy

had had a raw egg that morning; and
everyone wished Gabriel well through
it, and were thankful that, as regards a
certain part, he himself was out of it.
The falsetto felt himself more weird

of surpassing beauty on the organ. To
an ordinary listener, perhaps, it seemed
only a succession of chords; but the
educated ear could discern a melody
none the less real because difficult to

than ever, and his wife was proud to

describe, as it leaped from harmony to

think that they could not do without
him-but, ah! there was one male.

harmony, preparing the mind for the
musical answer to the question em-

volent spirit there: it was Crawford
Growles-as Mrs. Scrubbers said,

bodied in the deep tones of bass and
tenor. As with one consent, the con-

"that 'ere wicked Bass "-Growles,

gregation almost started from their
seats. It was as if the cathedral's

who would go so low that day that
it would be worth the while of the

groined roof had opened, and heaven.

College of Surgeons to have, not only
his larynx, but also his lungs-for the

itself had opened above that, and from

matter of that-almost even anything

dropped-" Hope thou in God."

that he wore.

note touched in those words had never

A deep pedal note!

Was it a

its pearly gate a seraph's voice had
The

been heard in Harlestone Minster be-

note ? Yes ! it stole on the ear, and fore; it may be that they will never
made people vibrate internally in uni- be again. It can be found in Fra
son with itself.

Then followed the

Bonavia's book, and in Dr. Hautboy's

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

anthem ; but the one to render it cannot, perhaps, be found again.
Fra Bonavia's offspring paid in that
anthem his forefather's debt to the
Harlestone Minster I
High up the people looked-but they
should have looked down. The golden-

long.

The message given, the voice
ceased-it ceased-and with it I might
say closed the life of the choir-boy of
Harlestone Minster; for from that day
he slowly, but surely, failed. His
mother's disease was on him. He be-

haired little lad, with head thrown

came weaker and weaker as the winter
came on, and he never sang his part in

back, was the author of the thrilling

that anthem again.

note; from him it streamed to heaven,
but so as that it seemed to come from
heaven instead. "Hope thou in God;"
and up and down that silver voice
seemed to discourse all the mystery and
power of Hope.

It was as though the

sunbeams had changed themselves into
music notes-such light and gladsomeness came upon many a burdened heart.
The good old bishop, who was trembling
for what was coming on the Church,
took hope where Hope was to be had,
and had a huge diocesan burden rolled
off his soul.

The dean's wicked son--

The anthem,
altered to suit a less-gifted voice, has
been often sung; but there were those
who, having heard Gabriel sing in it,
did not care to listen to another's voice.
On that day Growles-the wicked
Bass-outdone in song, could have
eaten the little choir-boy raw; he
would not even have stopped'to cut
him up, much less to treat him to the
attentions of a knife and fork. Growles
would have opened his mouth; and if
he could, would have swallowed up this
dainty morsel whole. In his humiliation and his shame, he smote upon his
breast, not as the publican asking for

the shame and disgrace of his fathergiven up, was hoped for again, not in

forgiveness-which for his evil feelings

A wife once

he might well have done-but angry,

more took heart of grace for the husband of whom she despaired; and black

even with that much of himself; asking

demons by the score had to leave the
Minster that day, cast out from hearts

were, when its lungs couldn't beat even

where Hope had not for a long time

actually scoffing at his larynx, declaring

been.

that he would forthwith put a codicil

himself, but in Another.

but heaven's door never stands open

it ironically what good its contents
those of a little lad; and scoffing,

to his will, revoking his gift thereof to

THE CHOIR-BOY OF HARLESTONE MINSTER.

30

the College of Surgeons, and so depriving it of all posthumous fame.
In such an undesirable frame of mind
was the Bass, that his wife was afraid
to take his arm as he went home. And
when his pet dog, and cat, ran out to
meet him as usual, seized with some
demoniacal impulse, he sang out his
deepest note at them, so that the poor
animals

bolted instantaneously-the

cat, I may say, spitting and "flying"
up the nearest tree; and the poor dog,
howling, and with its tail between
its legs, slinking off to his kennel as
if his master's bass growl had been a

-his

little surplice hanging on him

like a peg, and heard the voice thinner
and thinner too; and as, when his own
child lay nigh unto death, he re-heard
that silvery note echoing in his heart,
and he hoped--and in hope prayedand the prayer was heard, and he
believed he owed his boy's life to the
inspiring hope of that little lad, he relented, and almost hated the deep bass
of which he had been so proud. He
was the last visitor the little choir-boy
had; and almost the child's last words
were a promise that when Mr. Growles
was sad, if he knew it, and if there

vicious kick.

were ever so little a blue hole in the

It is a happiness to me that, I am
not obliged to conclude this story, with-

sky through which he could look, he
would sing down to him from heaven

out chronicling the repentance of Mr.
Crawford Growles. As that envious

-- " Hope thou in God."

and jealous man saw Gabriel day by
day opposite him-thinner and thinner

And so died
"THE C1OIR-BOY OF IHARLESTONE
MINSTER."

LONDON:
PRINTED BY

PERRY,

FARRINGDON

GARDNER AND
ROAD,

E.C.

CO.,

A SERIES OF PENNY STORIES.
Br

THE

Rev. P. B. POWER,
AUTHOV or

Demy 8vo.

' THE

OI ED
n

M.A.,

EATHE,"

82 pages, Pictorial Paper Wrapper, id. each.

Born with a Silver Spoon in His Mouth.
It Only Wants Turning Round.
The Choir Boy of Harlestone Minster.
" He's Gone Yonder."
A Christmas Surprise.

The Gold that Wouldn't Go.
---

mW

PENNY LIBRARY OF FICTION.
Demy 8vo.

32 pages, Pictorial Paper Wrapper, Id. each.

Three Times Tried.

Paying the Penalty.

By B. L. FAmox.

By CIras

Golden Feather.
By the Author of "Mehalah," &o.

For Dick's Sake.
By Mrs. J. H. RIDELr, author of "George
Geith," &o.

Slipping Away.

Lord John.
ivm FaNw.
Gone.

By Gm AirN.B

In Marine Armour.
By G. MAavn[zr
By C.

Saved by the Skin of his
Teeth,
SHIPTOx.

A Terrible Inheritance.

PanrPPs-WorLET.

By Telegraph.
By J. MAoILRE

COBBAN.

Constable A 1.
By J. M. SAxNB.

By G. M

By K«kRm

FxE.

My Soldier Keeper.

By the Author of "Victa Victrix."

By HMrI

GIBBONS.

The Plague Ship.

S. Movuom.

By G. A. Haxir.

Two Volumes (containing Six Stories in each), paper boards, 6d. each.

SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,
PONDON :

NOTRUMBERLAND

AVENUE, W.C.;
STAEANTTX.0+.

48,

QUEEN

VICTORIA

SURFACE-LIKE PORCELAIN.

COLOURS-EXUISITE..

ASPINALL'S ENAMEL.
For Renovating &Beautifying Everything.
Perfectly NON-POISONOUS.

FOR ART FURNITURE,
WICKER & BASKET TABLES,

-

CHAIRS,

MILKING STOOLS,

HOT-WATER
CAN8,
BRA KET 8,
BEDSTEADS,

j

H
jJ

DOORS,

SKIRTINGS, &c.
Sold in Tins by all respectable

Ironmongers, Grocers, Chemists, Drapers, Oilmen, &c., throughout the

Kingdom, or post free 7d., 1/6 & 3/-; [for Baths, to resist Boiling Water, 9d., 1/9 & 3/6] from

ASPINALL'S ENAMEL

WORKS,

LONDON, -S.E.

All communications respecting Advertisements for these Novels should be addressed to Hart's
Advertising Offices, 17 & 18, Arundel Street, Straud. W.C

d

i

4

-~gl4

Y

N;B

l

This book is a preservation facsimile produced for
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
It is made in compliance with copyright law
and produced on acid-free archival
60# book weight paper
which meets the requirements of
ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper).
Preservation facsimile printing and binding
by
Northern Micrographics
Brookhaven Bindery
La Crosse, Wisconsin
2012