“Ah ha!” exclaimed Mr. Patterson, “so shall it be; I like Morris. Come, my good fellow, sing us the song you wrote; come, Dogberry’s star is now in the ascendant. ‘Down with the pedagogue Sears’—let’s have it.”
Nothing loth, Morris was placed on the table, while the students gathered round him, ready to join the chorus. Taking a preparatory glass of wine, while Mr. Patterson rapped on the table by way of commanding silence, Morris placed himself in an attitude and sang the following song, which he had written on some rebellious occasion or other:
SONG.
You may talk of the study of imperial power,
And tell how their subjects must fawn, cringe and cower,
And offer the incense of tears;
But I tell you at once, that there’s none can compare
With the tyrant that rules o’er the lads of Belle Air,
So down with the pedagogue Sears.
(Chorus,) Down, down,