A certain Oxford D.D. at the head of a college, lately expected a
party of maiden ladies, his sisters and others, to visit him from the
country. They were strangers in Oxford, therefore, like another
Bayard, he was anxious to meet them on their arrival and _gallant_
them to his College. This, however, was to him, so little accustomed
_to do the polite to the ladies_, an absolute event, and it naturally
formed his _prime_ topic of conversation for a month previously. This
provoked some of the Fellows of his College to _put a hoax upon him_,
the most forward in which was one Mr. H----, a _puritan_ forsooth.
Accordingly, a note was concocted and sent to the Doctor, in the name
of the ladies, announcing, that they _had arrived at_ THE _Inn in
Oxford_. "The Inn!" exclaimed the Doctor, on perusing it; "Good God!
how am I to know _the_ Inn?" However, after due preparation, off he
set, in full canonicals, hunting for his belles and _the_ Inn! The
Star, Mitre, Angel, all were searched; at last, the Doctor, both tired
and irritated, began to smell a rat! The idea of a hoax flashed upon
his mind; he hurried to his lodgings, at his College, where the whole
truth flashed upon him like a _new light_, and the window of his room
being open, which overlooked the Fellows' garden, he saw a group of
them rubbing their hands in high glee, and the ringleader, Mr. H----,
in the midst: he was so roused at the sight, that, leaning from the
window, he burst out with--"H----! you puritanical son of a bitch!" It
is needless to add, that the words, acting like a charm, quickly
dissolved their council: but the Doctor, too amiable to remember what
was not meant as an affront, himself afterwards both joined in and
enjoyed the laugh created by the joke.
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