get back
to your work at the bench there."

Conrad stood rooted to the spot with eyes fixed on the ground; rubbed
his forehead, and said softly, "So I must." He did as he was ordered.
Rosa sat down on a small barrel, as she usually did when she came to
the workshop. Reinhold and Friedrich brought this barrel forward for
her as they were wont to do; and then they sang together (as Master
Martin bade them) the pretty song in which Conrad had interrupted them.
The latter went on with his task, silent and thoughtful. When the song
was ended Master Martin said, "Heaven has endowed you two dear lads
with a precious gift. You have no idea how much I honour the glorious
Art of Song. In fact I once wanted to be a Master-singer myself. But it
wouldn't do. I could make nothing of it, try as hard as I might. With
all my endeavours I earned nothing but derision and jesting, when I
tried my hand at the master-singing. I always made wrong 'annexations'
or too many syllables, In fact there was always something askew
with it. Well, well! you will make a better job of it. What the
master couldn't manage, his men will. Next Sunday there will be a
master-singing at the usual time, after noonday service, at Saint
Catherine's Church; and there you two, Reinhold and Friedrich, may gain
praise and honour by means of your beautiful art. For before the
head-singing, a free-singing will be holden, open to strangers, at
which you may try your skill. Now, Herr Conrad" (Master Martin called
over to the planing bench), "mightn't you mount the singing stool too,
and treat them to that beautiful hunting song of yours?"

"Don't jest, good master," answered Conrad, without looking up;
"there's a place and time for everything: while you are edifying
yourself at the Master-singing, I shall go in search of my own
pleasure, to the Common Meadow."

Things turned out as Master Martin had expected. Reinhold mounted
the singing stool and sang songs, which could not be classified as
being any special "tones" or "manners," but which delighted all the
Master-singers, albeit they were of opinion that, though the singer
committed no actual errors, yet a certain "outlandish," or foreign style,
which they could not quite define themselves, somewhat detracted from
their merit. Soon after, Friedrich seated himself on the singing stool,
took off his barret, and, after looking before him for a second or two,
cast a glance at the assembly (which darted through Rosa's hea