“How d’you mean ear, sir?” asked Bobbie anxiously.
“Can you sing?”
“What’ll you ’ave, sir?” said Bobbie.
“Anything.”
The boy, round-eyed with eagerness, sang a few lines of an amiable glee which Collingwood boarders were accustomed to chant.
“We’re gowing to the woodlands, to the woodlands gay and free.
Now, who will be my comrade and come along with me?
For I—”
“That’ll do,” said the bandmaster. “Do you think you could play a musical instrument?”
“I think I could try, sir.”
“Good! You come to elementary practice this evening.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Bobbie, flushing delightedly.