he had no confidence in his own singing or making of verses. At
last it was decided that he should have a trial that morning.

"But thou must say who has been thy master," they insisted; whereupon
Walther named a great master, Sir Walther of the Vogelweid.

"In truth," Hans Sachs said, nodding kindly. "He is a great master."
Hans meant to stand by the knight and to serve him if possible,
because he seemed the best choice for Eva, whom Sachs loved above
everything. Walther added that, for the most part, he had learned his
songs from the birds, titmouses, and finches, and the like. He loved
the woods and streams, and a joyous heart made him sing in spite of
himself, and the song of birds was the one he loved best to imitate.
The others were inclined to jeer at these words, but Hans Sachs saw
in them a beautiful nature, fine poesy.

"Very well, very well, let him begin," all cried, and so the knight
took his place in the singer's chair while Beckmesser, who was
appointed Marker, went to his place.

"As Marker, I guess I can settle his affair for him," Beckmesser
muttered, in malice. All the while Walther, was in despair, having no
confidence in himself.

"It is for thee, beloved," he murmured, trying to gain courage by
putting his thoughts upon Eva. Then Beckmesser, hidden behind the
curtain, cried:

"Now begin."

Walther hesitated a moment, then began, uncertainly, to sing. It was a
beautiful song of the spring. At the end of the first part, Beckmesser
scratched horribly upon his slate, and sighed in a most disconcerting
manner. Walther listened and his heart nearly failed him, but he began
again. This time he sang of winter, and as he went on he became so
much inspired that he forgot his tremendous anxiety, rose from his
chair, and sang passionately, with _abandon_. When he came to a pause
in the theme, Beckmesser burst into the group with his slate. It was
all covered with chalk marks.

"Will you never have done," he shouted angrily. "I've no more room in
which to set marks against you. If we must go on listening to such
singing we must use the side of the church if we would have room to
set down your mistakes." Every one but Hans Sachs burst out laughing.

"But I have not finished," Walther pleaded. "Will none of you let me
finish my song, good friends? It is not fair."

"That is true, that is true, not too much zeal, Beckmesser," Hans
tried to interpose. Everybody was talking at once.

"I could not under