Gregorius, the choir-master dictating from an open Gradual. “Listen, my brothers all. To-morrow is the festival of S. Polycarp the martyr and the name-day of our good father, the abbot. On such a joyous festival we must not fail to make his heart right glad with our chanting. Let us begin the Introit. (Sings.) ‘Gaudeamus omnes in Domino, diem festum celebrantes.’ ”
(All the monks repeating in chorus) “Gaudeamus omnes in Domino, diem—”
(They are interrupted by a loud knocking at the floor leading from the cloister. Brother Gregorius, on opening it, is confronted by an aged stranger with a long, white, flowing beard, bearing in his hand a roll of printed music, on which the words “Boston,” “Ditson” and the date “1874” can be discerned.)
Gregorius. “Salve, frater.”
Aged stranger. “Prof. Hubanus, at your service; and having come from a great distance, and happily being born at a much later date, I guess you will find my services on this eve of your joyous festival of some value, for I am well acquainted with all the best Masses published. By the way, is one of the brethren lately departed this life?”
Gregorius (with astonishment). “No, God be praised! Brother Augustine yonder did leave the infirmary vacant this morning, thanks to Our Blessed Lady, that no voice might be wanting in the choir on the morrow; but wherefore the question, good domne Hubanus?”
Hubanus. “Because I heard you but just now rehearsing such a sorrowful, in fact, so lugubrious, a morceau—an Offertory piece, I presume, for a Requiem Mass—that I supposed you were getting up the music for some such occasion.”
(The monks regard the aged stranger with no little surprise, mingled with curiosity.)
Gregorius. “We must have made indeed sad work of it in our rehearsing. Worthy Hubanus, it was the Gaudeamus you heard.”
Hubanus. “The Gaudeamus, eh? (Aside. I don't remember seeing that in Ditson's catalogue. I wonder what it is. To Gregorius.) Would you mind repeating it once more?”