Apollo. The sellers, some middle-aged men, some lads, stretched out
their arms with their wares to attract the passengers in the street,
and did not fail to beset Ambrose. The more lively looked at his
Lincoln green and shouted verses of ballads at him, fluttering broad
sheets with verses on the lamentable fate of Jane Shore, or Fair
Rosamond, the same woodcut doing duty for both ladies, without mercy
to their beauty. The scholastic judged by his face and step that he
was a student, and they flourished at him black-bound copies of
Virgilius Maro, and of Tully's Offices, while others, hoping that he
was an incipient clerk, offered breviaries, missals or portuaries,
with the Use of St. Paul's, or of Sarum, or mayhap St. Austin's
Confessions. He made his way along, with his eye diligently heedful
of the signs, and at last recognised the Winged Staff, or caduceus
of Hermes, over a stall where a couple of boys in blue caps and
gowns and yellow stockings were making a purchase of a small, grave-
looking, elderly but bright cheeked man, whose yellow hair and beard
were getting intermingled with grey. They were evidently those St.
Paul's School boys whom Ambrose envied so much, and as they finished
their bargaining and ran away together, Ambrose advanced with a
salutation, asked if he did not see Master Lucas Hansen, and gave
him the note with the commendations of Tibble Steelman the armourer.

He was answered with a ready nod and "yea, yea," as the old man
opened the billet and cast his eyes over it; then scanning Ambrose
from head to foot, said with some amazement, "But you are of gentle
blood, young sir."

"I am," said Ambrose; "but gentle blood needs at times to work for
bread, and Tibble let me hope that I might find both livelihood for
the body and for the soul with you, sir."