And upstairs in her room June sat at her open window, where the spring wind came, after its revel across the Park, to cool her hot cheeks and burn her heart.

Drive with Swithin

Two lines of a certain song in a certain famous old school’s songbook run as follows:

“How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la!

How he carolled and he sang, like a bird!⁠ ⁠…”

“How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la! How he carolled and he sang, like a bird!⁠ ⁠…”