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SEVEN STUDIOUS SISTERS
did not know how to write. My Lord Rector, when he spoke, could find no room large enough to contain his audiences, so he lectured only on sunshiny days, and stood on a platform in the centre of the great court; and words of grave nonsense fell from his lips as the light fell on golden hair or brown. So intently did the maidens listen that they did not smell the fragrance of the flowers crushed beneath their feet, wild rose and lily and violet, nor did they hear the beat of the wings of startled birds, nor see red crest, or golden wing, or blue, flash across the sky.
Being a cunning man and keen, My Lord Rector had left to the flocking students the choice of the lectures that they should pursue.
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