SCENE 2. Berehampton House, Park Lane.

_Wigs by Sharxon._

_Ladies’ dresses by Maison de Stunim._ _Hats by Madame Misfitte._

_Miss Hareham’s costumes by Idem._

‘Kiddy Childe,’ I said, as I put it down, ‘surely that’s Squiff’s girl?’

‘Right O, right O,’ said Freddy, ‘he’s booked her for the whole week,

and even now they’re cuddling in a private room at the Hyde.’

‘But,’ burst out the Pilot who was bubbling with suppressed excitement,

‘I wrote to her and she answered that, owing to a sad bereavement, she

is not accepting any invitations. Now you say Squiff’s going to have

her all the week; I believe the only thing she’s been bereft of--’ but

here a burst of laughter prevented any further explanation; for the

Pilot, as Freddy coarsely puts it, is going to be a devil-dodger; and

even his explanation that a clergyman must see all sides of life would

hardly cover an occasion like this.

‘I’ve invited Ina and the “Three Little Wives” to tea to-morrow,’

Freddy continued when the laughter had subsided, ‘you see that makes a

girl for each of us.’

Here Reggie expressed his approval by a loud tattoo on a tobacco tin,

but broke off very suddenly on Freddy declaring:

‘It must be in your digs, because Squiff’s got lunch for sixteen and

our landlady says she can’t undertake tea after it.’

‘That’s very good of you,’ said the Pilot solemnly.

‘O don’t mention it,’ said Freddy, ‘we shan’t want your rooms again

till Saturday, lunch is in Accrington’s on Wednesday and at ours on

Friday.’

‘By-the-bye Freddy,’ I remarked, ‘tell your girl to bring her

complexion with her.’

I stooped behind the arm-chair knowing what was coming, and so

the bacca tin which followed this remark fell harmlessly upon the

tram-lines outside.

‘It seems to me that this week is likely to be faintly tinged with

purple,’ observed the Pilot meditatively, ‘and if the rain keeps clear

of us and we keep clear of the Proctors I prophesy a good time for the

elect.’

At this point Freddy left hurriedly as the clocks were striking twelve,

while the rest of us, after a short but pithy conversation through the

window with O.P. 281, retired to bed.

The Pilot and I spent the morning in the arduous duty of cutting

lectures, while Reggie went round borrowing money to pay for a theatre

ticket for the following Saturday.

At lunch in Fatty’s rooms, de Beresford regaled me with a harrowing

description of Squiff’s misfortunes on the preceding evening.

‘You see,’ he said, ‘poor old Squiff got no answer to the note he sent

Kiddy Childe in the interval, so after the show he crawled round to the

stage door and waited for her. I suppose a bull-dog must have spotted

him, for when they were half-way to her lodgings the Progpiece was seen

in full chase behind. Squiff clutched her hand and yelled, “Faster,

faster,” like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, and they did the

record down St. Ebbe’s into Paradise Square, where they got into her

house unseen. Unfortunately it never struck them that their light was

the only one in the Square, and this drew the Proctor like a moth.

Squiff had barely time to get behind Kiddy’s dress-basket and pull a

cabin trunk in front of him, when the obtrusive official entered the

house and insisted on looking round the rooms. The dear girl shrieked

through the door that she was going to bed, and when the Proctor had

convinced himself of this, he departed, leaving two men to watch the

house. At least this is how Squiff explained the fact that he didn’t

reach his digs till 12.19.’

‘And,’ added Fatty, ‘the estimable Corker, who has not yet joined the

Temperance League, had gone to bed with the door-key in her pocket

entirely oblivious of the fact that Squiff had not returned, so Freddy

had to haul him up by a sheet.’

‘If they do these things on the Monday, I shudder to think of

Saturday,’ I remarked as I left to play against Barabbas’, while the

others made for the river. I did rather well over the match, for after

amassing 48 I persuaded Accrington to field for me, and returned for

our tea-party.

I thought I was fairly punctual, but when I burst into the sitting-room

I found the ‘Three Little Wives’ in one arm-chair gloating over ‘Gals’

Gossip.’

‘I must apologize for Lord Gilderdale not being here to receive you,’

I began, when a lady whom I subsequently discovered to be Miss Tiny

Trimmer clustered round me and murmured sweetly ‘Oh! don’t let that

worry you! I suppose you’re Martha?’ From which I gathered that Squiff

had not spent all his time behind the basket on the preceding evening.

After the sweet thing had introduced me to Ruby and Tweenie as Mr.

Martha Cochrane, ‘the friend of Kiddy’s boy,’ we proceeded to make

ourselves comfortable on the sofa but were immediately disturbed by

Freddy who burst in like a whirlwind, exclaiming,

‘I’m awfully sorry I’m late, girls, but I see the lady of the house

has received you,’ and then, ‘where’s Ina?’

‘Oh I expect she’s still on the river with the Rajah,’ said Ruby.

‘What, old Jellipore?’ cried the Pilot, as he came into the room;

‘curse those Basutos.’

Further introductions were followed by the arrival of Reggie and the

tea-tray, which was presided over by the Pilot, who seemed rather in

the cold pending the arrival of Miss Carlton.

During the meal the conversation ranged from Oxford to St. John’s Wood

via Rhodes’ Will and Protection, and on its conclusion Freddy took Tiny

into our other sitting-room to inspect my curious collection of birds’

eggs.

Miss Ina Carlton not yet having arrived, the Pilot improvised on the

piano while I gave Tweenie Tarn my views on marriage, and Reggie in a

distant corner discussed the relative merits of Oxford and Cambridge

with the delicious Ruby Ramsden.

After a bit we discovered that the Pilot had silently departed, and

then Reggie considerately offered to take the fair Ruby on the river

for an hour, and they left accordingly.

At half-past six we smoothed out the dents in the sofa, and Tweenie

said she ‘really must go.’

We thought it kinder not to go into the other sitting-room, but Tweenie

enquired from the passage if Tiny meant to go home before the show or

not.

As no answer was forthcoming, after a somewhat protracted farewell in

the hall, I put Tweenie into a hansom and went up to dress for dinner.

I did not hear Miss Trimmer depart, and when I left the house at seven

the dining-room door was still closed.

All through the evening the Pilot was in a state of suppressed rage,

inspired by the unfortunate Rajah of Jellipore, who had, probably quite

unconsciously, kept Miss Carlton out on the river about three hours too

long.

The Rajah, whose father’s harem was the finest in the East, early

acquired a nice taste in chiffon, and is apparently endeavouring to

form a large acquaintance among the ladies of the stage, obviously, as

the Pilot bitterly remarked, for recruiting purposes. However, Peter

had his innings on the following day at Accrington’s lunch, after which

he carried off Ina for a quiet hour on the Cher, much to his host’s

disgust. The remainder of the day passed off very quietly.

Thursday was only remarkable for a spirited lecture by the Provost on

the evils of the stage, delivered to Accrington at the leprous hour of

9.30 a.m.

Our venerable Head had met the lunch party leaving College on the

preceding day, and although we all saluted him with the utmost

politeness, he did not return our greeting, but passed on his way

combing his beard with his fingers, which is always a sign of impending

evil.

‘The old bird turned very stuffy,’ said Accrington, relating the

occurrence afterwards, ‘and said he seriously thought of informing my

parents that I was wasting my time and money, and doing no good to

myself or anybody else.’

‘The usual formula,’ remarked Freddy, _en parenthèse_; ‘and finished

up with the parting slap that no more lunch-leave would be given me

this term. I’m afraid,’ he concluded, ‘that the last fragments of my

reputation have dissolved.’

‘A reputation,’ remarked the Pilot, solemnly, ‘is an expensive and

unnecessary luxury in Oxford, and I can only marvel at the fearful

efforts daily made by many to retain what was originally only a

shadow.’ After this sweeping statement the unfortunate Peter was

carried off to lunch at Luther House by a person with a pale face and

a black cloak. As we strolled back to digs Reggie informed us that

the Rajah had monopolised the entire company for the day, and there

was nothing to do but to look forward to to-morrow’s lunch, which was

going, in Kruger’s famous phrase, to ‘stagger humanity.’

From an early hour on Friday the antique remnant who wheels about

Woodman’s cart was engaged in carrying delicacies of every kind, from

champagne cup to salted almonds, towards 129, and Mrs. Corker, whose

tongue has solved the problem of perpetual motion, spent the morning in

listening to and immediately forgetting the numerous instructions which

Squiff issued from his bedroom.

Freddy, being a Roman Catholic, fasts--on lobster mayonnaise--every

Friday, so he journeyed to the extreme end of the Banbury Road to get a

dispensation from Father McGinnis, his spiritual adviser. On my arrival

at 11.15 with Reggie, an agonized voice from Squiff’s room besought me

to hurry round to the Purewell Press and demand the menus, which were

Freddy’s choice, and calculated to make any one sit up. When I returned

from this errand I found Squiff, who had reached the collar and

braces stage, issuing his fifth batch of instructions to the muddled

Corker, who had propped herself against the bannisters and was weeping

copiously.

At this juncture Freddy did a cake-walk into the room waving the

dispensation, and we toasted the McGinnis in sherry and bitters. Freddy

says that no one Roman Catholic priest stays in Oxford for long, the

confessions are too much for them. While we were still honouring

the Reverend Father a large crowd in the street below attracted our

attention, and out of it there emerged Accrington, Reggie and the

Pilot, carrying between them Farmborough’s bull-pup, the infamous

Totters, who had apparently had a slight difference of opinion with

a tram-conductor. Having deposited the ferocious animal in Freddy’s

bedder they joined us in the drawing-room, where the unfortunate Corker

met us with the announcement that Woodman had sent round no crockery

but soup-plates. This horrible catastrophe instantly revealed Squiff’s

marvellous faculty for dealing with an emergency. Before we had

finished discussing what to do he had returned from next door bringing

with him an entire dinner service which he had borrowed from the Hon.

Lionel Strongi’th’arm, of Thomas’, as the said gentleman was going to

attend the biterminal lunch of the Swillingdon Club. This promptitude

so surprised Mrs. Corker that she found it necessary to have a cup of

tea with a slight dash in it, which Squiff readily granted, as he says

the savoury is always better when the Corker has dipped her beak.

At this moment the Pilot, who was more out of the window than in the

room, espied our guests coming down St. Aldate’s, whereupon Squiff and

Freddy ran down to meet them, while Reggie hastily secreted Squiff’s

seven signed photos of Mabel Amoore, on account, as he explained,

of professional jealousy. Freddy had only just directed them to his

bedroom to leave their hats, when several loud shrieks followed by

heavy thumps heralded the entrance of Miss Tiny Trimmer, with Totters

firmly attached to her under petticoat. As they got inside the door

they parted company, and Totters leapt upon the sofa triumphantly

shaking in his mouth a piece of frilled yellow silk, which Freddy

rescued and locked in his private drawer as a memento. The Corker was

hastily summoned to give professional assistance, after which we sat

down to lunch, a party of twelve.

The late Mr. Corker’s half-brother, a military gentleman of funereal

aspect, by the name of Blubb, had kindly consented, for a small

gratuity, to assist on this occasion; ‘it being,’ as he explained to

Squiff, ‘not my hordinary vacation, but honly to oblige.’

‘I’m so sorry about that wretched dog,’ said Freddy, as he settled

himself beside Tiny, ‘but he was always of an enquiring nature.’

‘Oh! he’s not so bad as Jellipore,’ replied Tiny, ‘he sticks like a

burr. Why, when we told him we were out to every meal on Wednesday, he

had a special one at half-past eleven in the morning for us, and we had

to go.’

‘I’ve had over a dozen notes from him since we arrived,’ said Ina

wearily across the table, ‘and he sends me poppies every day, the one

flower I loathe.’

‘Would you like to go out to Jellipore as Ranee?’ asked the Pilot.

‘No, thanks,’ replied Ina, ‘I’m going to be the only pebble on my

beach, and he’s got a regular cartload on his.’

‘You do generally appear to be stony, dear,’ said Ruby, amidst general

laughter.

‘Ah! I haven’t got so many kind friends as you have,’ retorted Ina.

There is no knowing what this conversation might have led to, had not

the Blubber appeared at Ina’s elbow with uncanny stealth, and demanded

in a sepulchral voice:

‘Sherry wine or ’ock, Miss?’

‘D’you like Oxford?’ enquired Accrington, who always makes the most

obvious remarks.

‘Oh! it’s lovely,’ responded Ruby enthusiastically, ‘and so exciting.

Why, only yesterday I spent an hour in a man’s cupboard, because his

aunt paid him a surprise visit on her way home from Scotland.’

‘How very unpleasant for you, dearest,’ put in Lily sweetly, ‘but of

course you can take care of yourself.’

‘That’s better anyhow,’ replied Ruby tartly, ‘than always wanting one

of the other sex to perform that duty, like someone I know.’

Here Freddy rapped sharply on the table and cried, ‘Parrot-house next

door,’ which remark effectually silenced the girls, but seriously upset

Reggie, who had been preparing a joke for several minutes.

‘I suppose you are a great authority on birds’ eggs now,’ queried the

Pilot of Tiny, from the bottom of the table, amid a general silence.

‘What do you mean?’ demanded the fair one, who had completely forgotten

the incident in question.

‘O nothing, only you spent two hours examining Martha’s collection with

Freddy in our digs on Thursday afternoon.’

As nobody appeared to have anything further to say on this subject a

holy hush fell upon the company, until Accrington, who had not asked a

well-worn question for very nearly three minutes, demanded of Tweenie,

‘Have you seen any Freshers’ delights?’

‘Do you mean Mr. de Beresford’s canary-coloured waistcoat?’ she asked.

‘’Pon my word you’re rather hard on poor D.B.,’ said Accrington,

‘didn’t I see you driving over with him to----?’

Here the Blubber, with involuntary tact, created a sufficient diversion

by dropping a meringue and then standing on it.

When Freddy had withered the old man with a glance, and more champagne

had been dealt out all round, Squiff, who had been carrying on a _sotto

voce_ conversation with Miss Childe since the beginning of the meal,

suddenly looked up and remarked, ‘Kiddy’s going to dance the “Can-can”

for us after lunch.’

When I noticed the startling change which passed over the features of

the Blubber, I fancied that he must have seen this graceful display of

agility before, and I subsequently found the aged reprobate with his

eye glued to the keyhole.

Freddy then proposed the health of the ‘Cannibal Girl’ Company in a

neat little speech, in the course of which he mentioned that he never

knew Cannibal girls wore so many clothes before.

‘I haven’t noticed anything excessive,’ put in Reggie, who had hitherto

been obscured by the shapely form of Miss Trimmer. He mentioned that he

thought three such pretty wives were entirely wasted on an old Mormon

like Caskowiski, especially as some of us hadn’t even one apiece.

After this the tables were hastily cleared, and a few minutes later

the Bursar of Thomas’, as he passed up St. Aldate’s, was edified by

the spectacle of a large and interested crowd collected in front of

the Maison Squiff. At the first glance he could only make out the

back portion of someone who appeared to be conducting an orchestra, a

hideous discord proceeding from the room; but on putting on his glasses

he descried a gentleman standing on a chair and holding a top hat,

which a lady, who was making a marvellous display of lingerie, kicked

with astounding frequency amid loud applause. ‘The whole forming,’

as he subsequently remarked to his friend, a genial Tutor, ‘A motht

degwading thpectacle for the undegwaduate, though, between ourthelves,

I’ve theldom theen it better done, even at the Folies Berthères. I

hope,’ he added plaintively, ‘that thethe young thcoundrelth didn’t

thee me watching from the other thide of the threet.’ The Tutor, a

request for more details meeting with no response, clutched his hat and

started hastily for St. Aldate’s.

After the dance was finished, it was discovered that Ruby and Reggie

had silently left the room, ‘in order,’ as he subsequently explained,

‘to talk over Freddy’s stamp collection.’ We left them in possession

of the drawing room, and departed in couples for the river, most of us

turning up again just in time for Hall.

On the following day we could see nothing of the dear girls as they had

a matinée, and the Rajah succeeded in capturing them for tea. Owing to

this I was able to meet Freddy, who was coming from his law lecture

at St. Spirits’, about 12 o’clock, at Carfax: and having picked up

Accrington at the O.U.D.S., we made our way to Butler’s, the florist’s.

Here we encountered one of those startling obstacles that turn the

brightest sunshine into overwhelming darkness.

‘We are very sorry, sir, but our Mr. Butler says he can’t possibly send

any more bouquets round to the theatre on credit,’ said the slim young

person in charge of the shop, with a weary air. As we could not manage

to make up the requisite amount between us, Freddy, after a little

tactful persuasion, induced her to fetch the proprietor from his lunch.

The sight of one of the Earl of Paunbrough’s cards, of which Freddy

keeps a large stock for cases analogous to this, produced an immediate

effect upon the obsequious Butler, and he readily consented to supply

us with three arum lilies, some moss and a furlong of wire, the whole

done up most artistically with the College ribbon, for the absurdly

small price of two guineas. This arduous duty successfully performed,

we returned to our respective luncheons promising to meet again at the

Hyde at 6.30, when a few of us were going to dine together. On my way

home I saw Verimisti, the Italian Count from King’s, who was madly

in love with Lucinda Tubb, a lady whose youth has long been out of

sight, though she still keeps it in mind, and often refers to it. That

afternoon the Unregenerate narrowly escaped a terrible calamity which

might have thrown us all into the deepest mourning and put a sudden

end to our innocent jollity. Squiff, who was fielding out in the deep,

had been standing at ease for about half-an-hour, when he suddenly

bethought him of a photograph of the fair Kiddy in his pocket, and

having extracted it, was gazing at it with soulful intensity, when the

ball descending like a meteor, struck him violently on the head; but

thanks to a cabbage-leaf in his hat and an abnormally thick skull no

great damage was done.

We assembled as arranged at 6.30, a large but select party, though

Verimisti who had had a champagne tea with Jellipore and the ladies,

had already reached the confidential stage, and after twice shaking

hands warmly with everybody, at once started on Accrington with a

pointless Italian story which lasted all through dinner. In addition

to our crowd from Cecil’s we had Blandford of Barabbas’, a prominent

sportsman, who contributes very generously to the University Chest per

the Proctors, St. Quentin of Mary’s, and finally de Beresford. I am not

very clear as to the events of that night after we reached the theatre;

but I recollect quite distinctly that at dinner we emptied a prodigious

number of bottles, chiefly in health-drinking, and that Verimisti’s

speech in replying for Italy was a triumph of incomprehensibility. When

our party of ten finally landed at the theatre in a most hilarious mood

and all wearing purple carnations, the performance had already started,

for we heard the first song being roughly handled by a crowded and

enthusiastic house. As we filed into our seats, some of our friends

in the dress circle cheered, and we had much difficulty in preventing

Verimisti from replying. Blandford created the first diversion of

the evening by omitting to turn down his seat, and collapsing with

some suddenness on the floor. A large party of twenty-firsters from

Barabbas’--most of whom knew Blandford--rose and cheered heartily,

the chorus of female savages who occupied the stage passing entirely

unnoticed. The entrance of Nokop--the King’s physician--however was

greeted with great applause and the popular chorus of his song:--

We’ve potions and pills,

Curing all ills,

Dispensed by the great Nokop,

was taken up by everyone regardless of time and tune. We were

particularly pleased with a gentleman in the second row who conducted

the song with much greater success than the salaried official before

the footlights. After the third encore, several entire strangers in the

second row rose and shook his hand, while a person in a brown bowler

hat and knicker-bockers appeared in the wings and made frantic signals

to refuse further demands. Von Graussman, who seemed to be feeling the

heat in the dress circle, here endeavoured to address the audience

to the exclusion of King Caskowiski, who had just made an imposing

entrance, and the following dialogue ensued:--

K.C. (_in a dignified manner_), ‘Welcome my dusky subjects.’

V.G. (_suddenly struck by K.C.’s state robes_), ‘You vas a

Broctor.’

K.C. (_continues_), ‘Let our wives attend us to the palace.’

V.G. (_apparently reassured on the former subject_), ‘My

vriends he vas a Mormon.’

At this point a bulky and uniformed official intervened and von

Graussman’s companion, a spectacled scholar of Cecil’s, was hustled out

of the theatre without a chance of explanation, just as Sotite came

forward to sing his famous song. The chorus of this, beginning:

‘It’s tails I win and heads you lose,’

is peculiarly tricky, and even the energetic sportsman in front was

unable to keep the field altogether, for the orchestra finished first

by a short bar, followed by Sotite and the Barabbas party, the rest

of us being left at the post. Verimisti indeed, continued to sing the

refrain through the whole of the next verse.

The landing and entrance of the English party created immense

enthusiasm, though I failed to see why the Hon. Mrs. Charteris should

come ashore in a skirt considerably above her knees, and Angus

MacPhee’s topper and frock-coat seemed peculiarly out of place on a

Cannibal Island. After the inevitable chorus, there followed the ‘Three

Wives’ song, which received seven encores, and then Freddy, who, we

understand had seen the piece before, declared that there was nothing

of interest to follow, and drove us outside, ‘being,’ as he remarked,

‘Called to the Bar.’ Before we could regain our seats the curtain had

fallen on the first act, and finding it impossible to remain in the

crowded saloon, we paraded the street for ten minutes. When we got in

again we found the second act in full swing, Ginsling and a chorus of

female cabin-boys in a cake-walk receiving repeated encores, after

which the self-appointed conductor went out to drown the microbes,

returning just in time for Mrs. Mopper’s song on the perils of the

ocean. The last verse of this was entirely lost through the attempted

entrance of four members of the Snorters’ Club from Tydvil College,

who were eventually ejected--after having embroiled most of the

audience near the door--by four uniformed officials, assisted by the

box-office clerk and two programme boys. But we afterwards discovered

that Ironsides, the heavy-weight champion, left a limb of the law on

the door mat, while a programme boy who had clung to him was deposited

on a hay-cart in the yard of the Hyde. The sympathies of the audience

were all with the Snorters, and after a brief though stirring speech

from Reggie on the rights of Englishmen, the Barabbas men behind rose

en masse and demanded somebody’s blood; but when the popular manager

explained that the Lessees had gone home in a hansom they were appeased

and resumed their seats for Queenie Hareham’s favourite song ‘They all

of them have tried it on with me.’ After this the plot, in the fashion

of musical comedies, was recklessly abandoned, and Jack Warmleigh did

a Coon dance with Lady Betty Backstays. But the Hon. Alan Charteris,

R.N., who attempted to sing a love song totally unconnected with the

piece, was greeted with loud shouts of ‘Go off’; and then ensued a

general mystification of the audience by dressing every character as

some one else, including Mrs. Charteris’ appearance as the Cannibal

Girl, which finished the first scene and gave another interval for

lip-salve. Our little refreshment cost us nothing this time, as

a complete stranger from the dress circle, who described himself

in quavering tones as the ‘Great Mogul,’ absolutely insisted upon

providing us all with lotion, though Freddy’s back teeth were already

under water. Owing to a free fight which took place in the ladies’

cloak-room between de Beresford and a most indigestible looking person

from Llewellyn’s, whose face he said annoyed him, we did not regain

our seats until the next act was well under weigh. A gentleman from

Barabbas’, after having kissed my hand, insisted upon my sitting on his

knee, and addressed me fondly as ‘The Queen of the May.’ Owing to this

and a tired feeling which came over me about this time, I saw nothing

for quite ten minutes. When I next looked at the stage I found that the

theatricals at Berehampton House were going strong, and the tableau

representing Eileen Mervyn as Venus with King Caskowiski as Apollo

balancing an apple on his head, was hailed with rapturous applause. The

next tableau showed a lady wrapped in little else but mystery pointing

to the sky, but before I had time to enquire what she was supposed to

be, the gentleman on whose knee I was sitting suddenly shifted his

position and I fell rather heavily to the floor. During the tableaux

a fearful din prevented any songs reaching us, while the party from

Barabbas’ appeared to be having a concert to themselves. At last the

curtain fell amid cries of ‘Speech’ from all sides, and something in

dress clothes with an enormous paste stud and a Roman nose advanced in

front of the members of the Company and their respective bouquets. His

lips appeared to be moving, but as there was no abatement of noise the

curtain soon fell for the last time and we felt our way out while two

King’s men strove heroically to remove the big bassoon.

We enjoyed a most successful supper with our lady friends, at which

Verimisti failed to put in an appearance. On our way home we danced

the Lancers at Carfax, and after vainly demanding a speech from the

Principal of Barabbas’, whose house looks onto the High, retired to bed.

Reggie said the departure of the Company on the following morning

reminded him of a Roman General’s triumph, and proved a positive

harvest time for the cabbies. The smallest computation put the number

of undergraduates present at a hundred and twenty, but the Proctor on

his arrival only succeeded in entrapping eleven, of whom three had

leave to go to town and one had come to meet his uncle.

The state of Accrington’s clothes, after spending half-an-hour in

the lamp-room, was the cause of much profanity, while Squiff, who

had climbed into a coal-truck, proved quite unrecognisable. But the

adventures of the immaculate de Beresford put these misfortunes

quite into the shade, for he was carried off in a horse-box to

Stow-on-the-Wold, and only returned about 10 p.m. minus his watch-chain

and cigarette-case, which he left at that remote spot as security for

his dinner and return ticket.

However, even the solemn Pilot admitted that it was a very good week.

IV.

THE MUTUAL HELP SOCIETY.

The credit of the idea must be given to Reggie; he suggested it at a

time when we were all in low water and when his birthday gifts from

loving uncles and aunts had just poured into Reggie’s receptive hands,

so no mercenary motives can be imputed to him. If the idea did not turn

out the brilliant success we anticipated, that was due to faults in the

system, and not in the promoters.

We were all in Reggie’s rooms one day, forming a small committee of

Ways and Means, with, as Squiff said, plenty of ways and no means, when

Reggie suddenly remarked, ‘Why shouldn’t we have a fund?’

The Pilot, who conceals a tendency to make obvious and painful

puns behind a solemn demeanour, had just begun, ‘The fundamental

principle--,’ when Reggie remarked sadly, ‘I am serious.’

When the Pilot had been suppressed with two cushions and a syphon;

Squiff inquired, ‘A fund, what for?’

‘For mutual help,’ answered Reggie.

‘Oh! a sort of coal-and-clothing-mothers’-meeting-keep-the-baby-warm

kind of article,’ put in Freddy.

‘Not at all,’ said Reggie, ‘it will be something like this. I propose

that each member--’

‘Who are the members to be?’ interrupted Squiff.

‘That,’ replied Reggie with an airy wave of the hand, ‘we can settle

later. Each member shall contribute say five or eight pounds a term,

which will be handed to the Treasurer and kept by him--’

‘If Squiff is made Treasurer the money will certainly be kept by him,’

interjected the Pilot.

After I had picked up the china ornament and the table-leg which were

broken in the subsequent scuffle, Reggie continued, ‘The money will be

kept by the Treasurer, who will not be a paid official, and used in

time of stress by the members. For instance, supposing a summons has to

be paid, or a railway-fare to town is required, the member needing the

money will go to the Treasurer, and after pledging his word that the

circumstances are urgent shall withdraw just as much as is needed and

no more. There will also be special rules about repayment.’

‘They will be needed,’ I remarked; ‘and we must also have “urgent

circumstances” clearly defined, as I foresee trouble on that score.’

‘Well,’ said Squiff, ‘if every one is agreed, that some such Society is

needed, let us draw up the rules at once. If an undertaking like this

is left under discussion after the first week of term the subscriptions

will have to be lowered to five shillings, and that won’t be much use.’

‘Rule 1,’ said Reggie, tapping the table with a paper-knife, ‘That this

Society be known as the “Cecil College Mutual Help Society.”’

Rule 2, ‘That the terminal subscription be five pounds with no

entrance-fee, but that the membership be strictly limited.’

‘I think--’ began the Pilot.

‘Wait a moment till I have read out what I’ve written down and then we

can discuss it,’ said Reggie.

Rule 3, ‘That all repayments of amounts drawn out over and above a

member’s own subscription be made within eight weeks.’

Rule 4, ‘That every member before drawing out money must pledge his

word that the circumstances are urgent. Such urgent circumstances must

be taken to mean the entire lack of money on the borrower’s part, and

the immediate necessity for a loan. Urgent circumstances do not include

the need of theatre tickets, bouquets, suppers, payments of accounts

before a solicitor’s letter has been received, or payment to any tailor

or photographer.’

Rule 5, ‘That no money be borrowed during the first two weeks of term,

and that no member who has failed to make repayment within eight weeks

may avail himself of the privileges of membership until such repayment

be made.’

Rule 6, ‘That in the event of all funds being exhausted before the last

week of term, the Treasurer--who shall be elected terminally--shall

call a meeting to announce the fact.’

Rule 7, ‘That any money left over--’

‘We can dispense with that rule,’ remarked Squiff, ‘there never will be

any money left over.’

‘That’s all I’ve got down,’ said Reggie, ‘discussion may now commence.’

‘Supposing,’ remarked the Pilot, who is always ready with an objection,

‘supposing that the Treasurer himself borrows all the available funds

at the beginning of the third week, or that he goes away leaving the

money locked up, what is to happen?’

‘I propose rule seven,’ said Squiff. ‘The Treasurer to be unable to

borrow without consulting two members, and in case of absence to

appoint a deputy.’

‘Of course he must keep accounts,’ said Freddy; ‘and is responsible for

collecting repayments and subscriptions.’

‘It’s a good idea,’ I said; ‘but will it work?’

‘We can but try,’ replied Reggie. ‘It saves incessant borrowing and is

simple; both of which are great points in its favour. Are we all agreed

on these seven Rules?’

‘Oughtn’t we to limit the borrowing powers of each member?’ asked

Freddy.

‘That wouldn’t be any use,’ said Reggie; ‘but we can frame rule eight.

That each member only borrow sufficient for his urgent need, and give

to the Treasurer a statement of his reason for borrowing. That ought to

be sufficient.’

‘I think so,’ agreed Freddy; ‘but we ought to exclude betting from the

Urgent Circumstances.’

‘Right!’ said the Pilot, ‘and now for the members. There are five of

us, Accrington will be six, von Graussman seven, and Fatty eight: that

gives us forty pounds, which will do to start on. Suppose we appoint

Fatty treasurer, he has a good head for figures.’

This proposal was unanimously carried, as Fatty was not present to

decline the honour, and the meeting adjourned till the following

evening in Fatty’s rooms. In the meanwhile the objects of the Club were

explained to the other three in moving terms, and they promised their

adherence. Von Graussman, whose father is a great Austrian financier,

had grave doubts about the scheme, and wrote to his people for advice;

meanwhile however, we collared his subscription, and he became, however

unwillingly, a member.

A proposal by Fatty, who does not play cards, to exclude Bridge from

the list of Urgent Circumstances was negatived by seven to one. The

Pilot also was as usual full of objections, but these were overruled,

and the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society started on its brief, but bright,

career.

The first fortnight of the term was uneventful, and marked only by

sustained attacks on the integrity of the Treasurer, by bribery and

threats in order to induce him to break rule five. These having failed

there was nothing to do but wait. On the first morning of the third

week--it was a Saturday--Accrington and Squiff met at 9.15 at the

bottom of the Treasurer’s staircase, and a race ensued for Fatty’s

bedroom. The official however declared with unnecessary heat that

business hours did not begin till 10.30, and so they were obliged

to retire till then. At a quarter past ten, Squiff, who is an adept

at manœuvring, returned and began a conversation with Fatty who

was at breakfast, which lasted till the clock struck half-past and

Accrington’s step sounded on the staircase, and then he jumped up and

remarked quietly ‘I want two tenners out of the Fund.’ Accrington,

who arrived almost breathless, only required a modest fiver. Fatty

took a seat at table with a large account-book and a stylo. He took

Accrington’s case first as being the simpler, and was quite ready to

advance the money, but some difficulty occurred in interpreting the

rules.

‘How does one pledge one’s word within the meaning of the Act?’

enquired the Treasurer plaintively.

‘I should make him swear horribly,’ remarked Squiff; ‘I don’t think

he’s the sort of person I should trust with the funds of any Club.’

The roll which Accrington threw at him did not hit him, but finished

the career of a small china dog which had belonged to Fatty’s

grandmother, and smashed two liqueur-glasses into fragments. When peace

had been restored, Accrington produced a summons from Tuneham and

Keighley--the piano-people in the High--for ‘the hire of piano for two

years, tuning, replacing broken keys, do. wires, do. candlesticks, do.

pedals, £5/2/: paid by cash, 2/-. Total owing. £5.’ This convinced

Fatty, who handed over a cheque for five pounds without demur, and

Accrington left rejoicing.

Squiff’s case was harder:

‘At the end of last term,’ he explained to Fatty, who had assumed a

judicial aspect, ‘I had to raise money on my motor in order to have

four nights in town and do the Rugger Match properly. It is still in

Goldstein’s clutches: yesterday I got a telegram to say that my Uncle

Terence--Sir Terence MacGurkin, my mater’s brother--who gave me the

car, is coming down here, and wants me to take him for some nice spins.

If he finds I’ve pawned it, there’ll be the devil to pay, and the uncle

certainly won’t pay him, nor me. I shall have to run up to town to-day,

get the mo-mo, pay Goldstein, and drive it down here, ready for Uncle

Terence to-morrow; and,’ he concluded rapidly, ‘if the urgency isn’t

apparent even to you’--‘Don’t be rude,’ interpolated Fatty--‘then

nothing will ever penetrate your brain.’

‘I think,’ Fatty had begun, when hurried steps sounded on the stairs

and von Graussman appeared clad in a most curious costume, and with

unbrushed hair. To him Squiff immediately said, ‘I don’t think, old

chap, that you ought to present yourself in a costume like that before

the Treasurer of the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society, you look as if you

hadn’t been to bed all night, and then had got up too early, if such a

thing is possible.’

‘It vos alright perhaps that I must be given nineteen

pounds by Mr. Fatty from the moneys of the lately

formed-and-much-to-be-commended-by-needy-gentlemens-’Elp-Clubs,’ he

remarked in one breath.

‘Once more!’ shrieked Squiff ecstatically.

‘I vos not repeading,’ replied von Graussman with dignity, ‘in der

worts of Bilate vot I vos say I had shpoken.’

‘What Pilate really said--’ began Squiff, when Fatty who had sunk into

a sort of reverie, suddenly awoke and thumped on the table vigorously.

‘The valuable time of the Treasurer is being frittered away,’ he

remarked solemnly. ‘The case of the O’Rossa is under consideration. He

has explained his need for twenty pounds; the only remaining formality

is the pledging of his word. When he has done that I will hand over

the cheque.’ Squiff, who had been speaking to von Graussman, hurriedly

pledged his word and left to catch the 12.10 to town, while von

Graussman proceeded to pour into Fatty’s ears a long and disconnected

tale in which the words, ‘Boliceman,’ ‘damnable,’ ‘fraulein,’ and

‘gompensations,’ appeared frequently, so Fatty gathered that it had

some reference to an escapade in town during the week before term.

However, as von Graussman was prepared to swear to the urgency of

the circumstances, he saw no reason why he should not advance the

amount, but discovered to his horror that there were only fifteen

pounds left. He explained this to the German, who replied that ‘he

could sew der matters up mit so much,’ and went off with the Club’s

last money. Fatty, who saw in this a speedy ending to the worries of a

Treasurership, contentedly entered the amounts in his book, and then

took a cab to his History Lecture at James’.

It was only when Freddy casually applied for two pounds to pay Foundry

deceased--on account--that he discovered that the end of the money did

not imply the end of his troubles.

‘You lent twenty pounds to Squiff,’ screamed Freddy; ‘why, you know

he’s overdrawn his next month’s allowance and pawned his dressing case.’

‘I didn’t know,’ replied Fatty placidly, ‘besides, it seems to me that

those are the very circumstances in which the Club becomes useful and

even necessary.’

‘Yes, but,’ retorted Freddy, ‘he won’t be able to pay it back for

weeks, and I know I shall want to borrow next week.’

‘Come early and leave early,’ remarked the Treasurer irritatingly. ‘If

you’d come at half-past ten when the office opens you might have got

something. As it is you must wait till some one pays in.’

‘Anyhow,’ remarked Freddy, ‘by rule six you must call a meeting and

announce that all funds are exhausted, and I don’t envy you the job, as

I know Martha was coming round to borrow in the morning, and Reggie is

sure to be hard up as well.’

The meeting fulfilled the expectation of Freddy; it was stormy on the

part of Reggie and myself, placid on Fatty’s, and calmly indifferent

on the part of the original borrowers. Freddy demanded a further

subscription which Squiff and von Graussman opposed. Eventually we

arranged a compromise by which everybody was to pay in three pounds

within three days, and the meeting broke up. For the next few days

events progressed quietly until another meeting was suddenly summoned

to report that Reggie and I having borrowed a tenner each, and Fatty

himself--by permission--the remaining four pounds, funds were again

exhausted, and as the time for repayment had not nearly expired we were

once more at a standstill. Eventually a motion was passed by six to

two, Squiff and von Graussman dissenting, that the time for repayment

of the original loans should expire on the following Saturday. This

caused great perturbation among the borrowers, but by the help of

an overdraft at the bank von Graussman scraped up the money, and

Accrington paid in his five pounds without any difficulty. The real

blow to our Club fell upon us on the Sunday when the third meeting

within three weeks was called to announce the absence of funds: this

positively staggered us, but we had not counted on Squiff’s presence of

mind. On the day before, which was fixed for paying in, he had given

Fatty his cheque for twenty pounds, and had immediately afterwards

drawn out the available twenty pounds--paid in by von Graussman and

Accrington--on the plea of Urgent Necessity, which we discovered to be

the paying of the overdraft which he knew he must have at his bank, but

as the overdraft turned out to his great surprise to be some forty

pounds, of course they would not cash his last cheque, and the funds

of the Club shrank to a worthless cheque for twenty pounds: this last

manœuvre gave Squiff, as Freddy foolishly pointed out to him, another

six weeks in which to pay off his debt to the Club, and a proposal

to make all loans repayable in three days was lost by one vote. The

numbers were equal, all who had borrowed voting against, and all who

were free of debt, for the proposal. However, as Fatty had the casting

vote, and owed the Club four pounds, the motion was lost. Our attempts

to find a method of putting the Society on its legs again failed, and

we agreed that we must bury it in the depths of forgetfulness.

As a gallant attempt to find a solution to a most pressing question it

was very praiseworthy, but as a working institution it was a regular

fiasco. Fatty explained his subsequent failure in Divvers as the result

of having to settle up the somewhat confused accounts of the defunct

Club; myself, I attribute it to the fact that he defined Lydia--the

purple seller of Thyatira--as ‘a province in Asia Minor.’

V.

ON THE STRENUOUSNESS OF LIFE.

It was on a Wednesday morning that I repaired to the Maison Squiff and

found Freddy in a well-worn blazer perusing a coroneted letter signed

‘Paunbrough,’ which he silently handed me to read. I discovered that it

was a communication from the noble owner of Coffington Castle, County

Down, enclosing Butler’s bill with a dirty card attached. The latter

enquired in terms more direct than polite why the hot place Freddy had

been distributing his father’s cards about Oxford, and stated that he,

the noble Earl, was condemned if he would pay thirty shillings for a

bouquet to a low ballet girl. It concluded with the final slap that

Messrs. Swindell and Rooke, the family solicitors, had instructions

not to pay over another monthly allowance until they received Butler’s

bill receipted. This crushing communication was pointedly signed ‘Your

loving father,’ and a postscript demanded the return of any more of his

Lordship’s cards which Freddy might have purloined.

‘Rather rough,’ I said, ‘but you can go on for another month anyhow,

yesterday was the First.’

‘Not much,’ said Freddy, ‘the governor’s sharper than you’d think to

look at him, and he telegraphed to the sharks to stop my instalment

yesterday.’

While we were discussing this trying situation, Mrs. Corker appeared

bearing a blue envelope which she shot into my lap. It was addressed

to--

Viscount Gilderdale,

129 St. Aldate’s, Oxford,

and so I handed it on to Freddy, who courageously opened it. The

contents proved to be merely an official confirmation of the noble

lord’s own letter, which, as Freddy ruefully observed, was ‘rather like

rubbing it in.’

‘Can you pay Butler for me, and then I’ll get my thirty quidlets?’ he

asked.

‘I haven’t got a penny,’ I replied, ‘but can’t Squiff supply the

needful?’

‘Oh! he’s worse off than we are; but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind our

taking his silver candlesticks round to Ranger’s “for one night only,”’

said Frederick. ‘They ought to fetch thirty shillings, and then we

shall get thirty pounds, and twenty to one are good enough odds for me.’

‘Well, at any rate,’ I said, ‘Let’s try the Pilot first, and

Accrington.’

‘Whatever we do, must be done quickly,’ said Freddy, as he searched

frantically for a note-book, ‘I’m in for Contracts next week, and Anson

is heavy on my chest.’

‘Let’s go along to College,’ I suggested, ‘Accrington’s working day and

night for his second shot at Mods., so he’s sure to be in.’

As we reached Cecil’s the Pilot emerged from the porch carrying Cook’s

Commentary on Habakkuk, and three large red notebooks; he is in for

Honour Theology, but as in a recent essay he explained the word

Gamaliel as meaning ‘the Pavement,’ while Gabbatha became ‘the lady who

died after knitting coats and garments,’ we fear he is not very far

advanced. Without any preamble we demanded thirty shillings, but the

Pilot, whose money affairs are in fearful confusion, explained that he

had just borrowed three pounds off his tailor, and could not possibly

lend us anything.

We accordingly hurried on into College, and found Accrington surveying

two summonses spread out on Hawkins’ Handbook to Logic, which

invaluable work he was endeavouring to learn by heart before Monday.

Freddy had just begun ‘Can you lend,’ when his eye fell upon the blue

documents, and the request died upon his lips.

‘No, I’m very sorry I can’t,’ said Accrington, ‘can you?’ But nobody

laughed at this; the situation was altogether too grave.

It appeared from a perusal of these documents that Messrs. Hooper, of

the High, and Daniel Dickens and Co., the picture dealers, had taken

out a summons signed by a certain Frank Bolton, Mandatory,--whatever

that might be--which bade ‘Stephen Kirkbury Accrington appear

personally or by his proctor at the Apodyterium of the Convocation

House to answer the plaintiff’s claim.’

Some paragraphs on the back remarked ‘that if the debt claimed is more

than six years old, that if you were then or are now a married woman,

or have been discharged under the Bankruptcy Act, notice must be given

three days before the hearing.’

These parting shots did not appear to give Accrington any comfort, and

he said that he was trying to raise a loan from the family lawyer.

We condoled with him, and then seeing clearly that there was no hope

for us in that quarter, hastened back to pawn the candlesticks before

Squiff’s return.

On the stairs of their digs we met Mrs. Corker, who was, as usual with

her during working hours, very much out of breath, but she managed to

pant at Freddy,

‘’Ave you seen Mr. O’Roozer, me lord?’

‘No,’ said Freddy, ‘has he been in?’

‘O yes, me lord,’ replied the old lady, ‘’e came in about ’arf an hour

ago and asked for your lordship, ’e said as ’ow ’e wanted to see your

lordship most pertickler.’

‘But about ten minutes ago,’ she continued, now in a tone of mingled

wonder and indignation, ‘as I was a-goin up these ’ere stairs, I met

’im a comin’ down with them there ’andsome candlesticks under ’is

harm, and when I says, “I’ll clean ’em for yer, Mr. O’Roozer, if that’s

what yer wants,” ’e said, “No thank yer, Mrs. Corker, I’m afraid

nothin’ what you could do wouldn’t be no use, I think I shall ’ave

to soak them,” and then blessed if ’e didn’t rush out of the front

door an’ get into a cab, silver candlesticks an’ all, a laughin’ most

haffable.’

There might have been more of these appalling revelations to follow,

but at that moment I caught sight of Freddy’s face, on which there

had settled a blank look of consternation, and we marched upstairs

together, much sadder if wiser men.

‘Well, what the deuce we are going to do now, I’ll be shot if I know,’

he said as we shut the door behind us. ‘Squiff’s gone and popped the

only marketable commodity in the house, and there are thirty precious

pounds in London simply waiting for me to send for them.’

‘I know,’ I said; ‘couldn’t Webster, your old scout in College, lend

you thirty shillings for one day? I’ve been told that he runs a house

at Margate, and is worth nearly five hundred a year. Some of these

College servants are regular Croesuses.’

‘Yes, that’s not half a bad idea, Martha; in fact it’s about the only

thing we can do; let’s go round and interview the old bird at once.’

So saying we descended the well-worn stairs again, and hurried round to

see the mysterious Webster, who wears a coat like a banker, and always

takes front seats at the best concerts.

The worthy man readily lent us the needful, and so that little trouble

came to an end.

Misfortunes, however, never come singly, and only that evening Reggie

and I and the Pilot were progged in the Hyde, and requested in the

politest manner to call on the Junior Proctor at Gloucester at 9.30

next morning.

‘I suppose,’ said the Pilot, mournfully, as we moved off, ‘that this

is a quid-touch, but where my adjectived quid is to come from I don’t

know.’

‘_Je ne sais pas, you don’t sais pas, and he doesn’t sai pas_,’ quoted

Reggie.

‘Freddy gets his oof to-morrow, but certainly not by nine,’ I said.

‘Then the only thing to be done is to ask the man to wait a day, and

borrow the money from Freddy when he gets his cheque,’ remarked the

Pilot, cheerfully.

On the following morning we dropped anchor in the Gluggins porch at

9.30, and asked for the J.P.’s rooms, which we found in the well-known

row of cottages on the left of the garden, with three bull-dogs

guarding the door. When our names had been taken, Reggie went in, and

came out smiling after a short interview.

‘Told me to let him have it by one o’clock,’ muttered Reggie, as the

Pilot passed in. ‘I said I expected a remittance from my aunt.’

In a moment the Pilot also returned looking as solemn as usual. ‘He

got rather angry when I mentioned a remittance from my aunt, but let me

off till one o’clock,’ he remarked.

When I was shown in, I found the J.P., a round and pompous little man,

robed and banded, standing by the table.

‘I suppose, Mr. Cochrane,’ he began at once, ‘that you, like the other

two gentlemen whom I have just seen, are expecting a remittance from

your aunt.’

‘No, sir,’ I replied meekly, ‘my great uncle always attends to these

matters, but I am certainly expecting a remittance from him.’

This soft answer, instead of turning away the dignitary’s wrath, caused

him to grow purple in the face, but he controlled his temper very

creditably and merely said,

‘Very well, Mr. Cochrane, I give you till one o’clock, but if the

twenty shillings are not in my hands by that time I shall communicate

with your Provost and make matters unpleasant for you, er--good

morning.’

I joined the other two, and Reggie returned with me to breakfast, but

the Pilot, who had to attend the Dean’s lecture at ten, put off his

meal till eleven.

As we made our way through the buttered eggs it became more and more

clear that Reggie had a grievance, and at last it came out.

‘Here am I, a working man’--this is where I coughed, but Reggie did not

appear to notice it--‘with two lectures between now and lunch, both of

which I am compelled to cut because an unfeeling Proctor is dunning me

for a pound, which I must borrow from some one before one o’clock.’

‘Yes, it is very hard,’ I agreed. ‘But still I believe you have

occasionally steeled your heart to cut a lecture even when there has

been no Proctor in the background, and after all he can’t help it, it’s

his business; I daresay if you knew him you’d find that he smoked a

meerschaum and swore very much like other people.’

‘Yes, I know, that’s all right,’ said Reggie, who never likes to pursue

an argument after he has got his own particular complaint off his

chest, ‘we’ll wait for the Pilot to have his brekker and then go round

to see Freddy.’

‘He’s sure to have his cheque by then,’ I said, ‘and of course he’ll

lend us the wherewithal.’

The Pilot finished breakfast at 11.20 precisely, and then after

carefully perusing the current society divorce case, we made our way to

St. Aldate’s.

We found Freddy crouching in an arm-chair murmuring to himself passages

from Anson, and instantly demanded if the money had arrived.

‘Oh, I dare say it’ll come some time to-day,’ said Freddy, crossly, and

muttered to himself, ‘Agents of Necessity.’

‘That’s no earthly good,’ replied the Pilot, ‘we must find three quid

by one o’clock and the oof-tree bears no fruit at this time of year.’

‘What’s the money for?’ demanded Freddy.

‘Progged in the “Shades,”’ responded Reggie laconically, ‘and you are

going to pay the fine.’

‘I didn’t know it before,’ Freddy answered, ‘but of course if the money

comes in time it’s yours.’

‘We must manage it somehow,’ I said, ‘when’s the next post?’

‘Ring and ask the Corker, I don’t know.’

‘Which it sometimes comes at a quarter to one, and sometimes at ’arf

past,’ said the old lady on being interrogated.

When he heard this the Pilot collapsed heavily into an arm-chair, while

Freddy, who did not yet fully appreciate the gravity of the situation,

went upstairs to search for a note-book in the other sitting-room.

Soon after he had left the room a raucous voice was heard downstairs

enquiring for Milord Gilderdale, and the Corker appeared to be engaged

in an animated discussion with the owner thereof.

From two heavy thumps on the ceiling I gathered that Freddy had heard

the caller’s voice and did not desire to interview him.

Mrs. Corker now appeared, and after expressing surprise at Freddy’s

absence, asked me to interview, and if possible dispose of ‘that there

houtrageous man in the ’all.’

On descending I found a corpulent man, with a rubicund face and no

perceptible chin, standing with a sheaf of documents in his hand.

‘Good mornin’, sir,’ he said, ‘Hi come from Dopin and Bleeder’s the

’orse-dealers, and I’ve got a little bill ’ere for yer, honly a matter

of fifteen pounds, as I’ll trouble you to settle.’

‘Doping and Bleeder,’ I murmured, ‘I don’t know the people.’

‘Now look ’ere, sir,’ he said with an expression which betokened sorrow

rather than anger, ‘none o’ these little games, you’re Lord Gilderdale,

haren’t you?’

‘Certainly not,’ I replied crossly, ‘next time perhaps you will make

sure of whom you are talking to before you descend to impertinence, my

man; little games indeed.’

‘Ho, then you’re the O’Roozer,’ he remarked, ‘I’ve got a bill for you

for twenty-three pounds seventeen and fourpence.’

‘What’s the fourpence for?’ I queried, but by this time the portly

gentleman was getting somewhat angry.

‘Never yer mind, sir, it’s for value received, hand given,’ he

said, ‘an’ our Mr. Bleeder says as ’ow ’e ’opes you’ll see your

way to lettin’ ’im ’ave the money this week, or ’e’ll ’ave to take

proceedings, which is always most repugnant both for you and hus.’

‘Now you’ve got that off your chest, you can go,’ I said, ‘I’m not Mr.

O’Rossa nor am I Lord Gilderdale. Good-day.’

But the worthy representative of Messrs. Doping and Bleeder was not so

easily disposed of.

‘Now look ’ere,’ he said, ‘Hi believe that it’s hall a bloomin’ ’oax,

if yer aint Wiscount Gilderdale, an’ yer hain’t the Ho Roozer ’oo the

blazes are yer?’

At this stage of the proceedings I opened the door and beckoned O.P.

281, who was lounging against the wall of the Town Hall opposite, to

advance.

‘I give this person into custody,’ I began, but this proved sufficient,

the man from D. and B.’s had fled with unprecedented speed, and so

after pouring palm oil into the ever-ready hand of the worthy officer,

I went upstairs.

I found the other three gazing anxiously at the clock, which pointed to

a quarter to one, and appeared to be advancing terribly quickly.

‘Hadn’t we better call a cab,’ said the Pilot; ‘supposing the oof does

turn up about five to, we shall have to drive to the bank before we can

go to the Proctor.’

‘Yes, my aunt, I’d never thought of that,’ said Reggie, ‘It’ll take

fully another minute and a quarter, say even one and a half, and

minutes are exceptionally precious just now.’

At this juncture the Corker, who was as excited as anybody, rushed

breathlessly into the room and gasped, ‘The postman ’as just left

Thomas,’ me lord, an’ ’e’ll be ’ere in a minute.’

‘No, by Jingo, that’s ripping,’ cried Freddy, ‘we must be getting off

then,’ and as he spoke we all rushed downstairs together.

While we were picking our caps out of the collection in the hall, the

Pilot, who always acts the part of Job’s comforter on these occasions,

remarked slowly, ‘I say, what shall we do if the draft doesn’t come?’

‘We shan’t do anything, we shall be done,’ I said.

‘Well, anyhow, here’s the postman and we shall know our fate,’ put

in Freddy running to the door, as footsteps shuffled on the pavement

outside. He threw it open, and clutched a packet of letters from the

hands of the postman, and then for the first time for many a long day,

he fearlessly tore open a long blue envelope, extracting a letter which

he dropped on the floor, and a cheque for thirty pounds, which he

carefully examined.

We then got into Morgan’s hansom and drove at an alarming speed to the

Bank, but to our horror we found the doors closed when we got there,

and the grey-haired man, who was sweeping the steps outside, informed

us, what we ought to have remembered, that the bank shuts at one

o’clock on Thursdays, and it was just striking the hour on Carfax.

‘Gloucester,’ shrieked Freddy, as we bundled into the cab, and shot

down the Corn at a fearful rate in the direction of Gluggins. The black

clock over the archway pointed to four minutes past as we got out, I

clutching the draft, while Freddy waited in the cab, discussing the

prospects of the National with Morgan through the trap in the roof.

The J.P. received us with a frown, and remarked coldly, ‘Punctuality is

the politeness of princes, Mr. Arlington.’

‘I am afraid we put our trust in postmen, not princes,’ replied Reggie;

‘and ours was late this morning; however, if you wouldn’t mind

changing this cheque, sir, we’re ready to pay you.’

‘Really, sir, your conduct in this matter is most surprising,’ said

the Proctor; ‘first you come here unpunctually, and now you offer me

a large cheque on behalf of yourself and your companions, whom I am

afraid are no better than you are.’

‘But the bank is closed,’ put in Reggie.

‘How do you mean the bank is closed, Mr. Arlington?’

‘It’s Thursday, sir,’ chimed in the Pilot.

‘Well, Mr. Meredith, I don’t see, if the bank closes at one o’clock,

why you didn’t go there before.’

‘But Freddy’s--I mean Lord Gilderdale’s--cheque didn’t arrive till one

o’clock,’ said Reggie.

‘I fail to understand what connection Lord Gilderdale has with this

matter,’ said the Proctor.

‘Oh,’ said Reggie, ‘none of us had any money just at present, but we

knew Gilderdale expected a cheque from his solicitors this morning, and

he promised to lend us a sovereign each.’

‘Oh, then, I am really fining Lord Gilderdale for your delinquencies;

this is a very fine situation, Mr. Arlington,’ said the Proctor, with a

nearer approach to geniality than we had hitherto seen.

‘Well, sir, hardly that,’ I put in; ‘you see all three of us really

are expecting remittances of our own as we told you this morning, but

as Lord Gilderdale’s arrived before any of ours he very kindly lent us

three pounds.’

‘Very well then, gentlemen,’ said the Proctor, ‘I don’t know that this

arrangement is quite regular, or that it would exactly meet with the

approval of the Vice-Chancellor, but after all you have produced the

amount of your fines, and it is no business of mine to enquire how

you obtained that amount. I am sorry to say that I believed at first

that your slight unpunctuality was due to disrespect, and that you

were trying to do what I believe the present generation would call

“pulling my leg” over these cheques, but I see that I misjudged you,

and shall ask you to bring the money at ten to-morrow. Good morning,

Mr. Arlington; good morning, gentlemen, good morning,’ and so saying

the little man collapsed into his arm-chair, while we departed on our

way more or less rejoicing.

Freddy, to whom we communicated the result of the interview, soothed

our consciences with the very plausible, if somewhat immoral, argument:

‘It don’t do to give that sort of bird too much truth all in a lump, he

ain’t accustomed to it; besides, if you start bringin’ him up on it,

he’ll always expect it.’

On our return to 129 St. Aldate’s we took Squiff to task severely for

daring to dispose of his own silver candlesticks on the previous day;

as Freddy remarked, ‘What are things coming to when a man can do as he

likes with his own property?’

‘I know where things are going to,’ responded Squiff, ‘and that is to

Ranger’s in Beerage Street, I’ve had a breezy time lately; thank heaven

term is nearly over.’

‘Ditto, ditto,’ remarked the Pilot mournfully; ‘if one looks back at

the end of any term, there always seem to be so many things which one

might have done and hasn’t; and such a lot of entirely unnecessary

things which have come off most successfully. When I remember that, out

of 751 allotted pages of Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, I have read

exactly 57, the hollowness of life comes upon me with crushing reality.’

‘Poor old Pilot,’ laughed Squiff, ‘he’s got “the recollections” badly.’

‘I shall shortly have “the Collections” much worse,’ replied the Pilot.

‘Thank goodness,’ remarked Reggie fervently, ‘that terminal reports are

not sent home to our “parents or guardians” from this University; what

awful shocks they’d get.’

‘A printed record of gate-sconces and fines during residence should be

given to every one on their departure, and the number of windows broken

by the future B.A. should be certified by the Provost,’ I said.

‘Or even better,’ replied the Pilot, ‘a record of theatres attended,

with musical comedies marked in red, should be sent to every Dean at

the end of each term, by the theatre people.’

‘Great Scott, what revelations there’d be; why, some of the most

respectable people would lose their characters at once. Poor old de

Beresford, who went six times to “San Toy” and seven to “Florodora,” is

supposed to be a model character.’ This from Reggie.

‘Chiefly,’ I remarked, ‘because he never cuts the Dean and always pays

the Treasurer “the exact amount of his battels, not requiring change,”

see College Rules.’

‘If we could all acquire good reputations as easily, how happy we

should be,’ murmured the Pilot pensively; ‘somehow I never have been

able to get the authorities to take me seriously.’

‘You must start by taking yourself seriously,’ replied Freddy, ‘but

it all shows how little our Dons really know about us. Look at old

von Graussman, noisy and addicted to beer, but hard-working and

conscientious. His character among the Dons is “lazy, rowdy, and

conscienceless”: you know after a row he’s always sent for first. Then

take, as I said before, de Beresford, or Accrington, who conceals

behind a constant attendance at early chapel and a habit of going about

with a logic book in his hand, the most villainous and demoniacal mind

and a rooted hatred of all in authority; he’s at the bottom of most

ructions in College.’

‘It’s quite true,’ I said, ‘I am afraid on the whole we’re a bad and

unvirtuous lot.’

‘Looking back on the past term, I see,’ remarked the Pilot pointing out

of window, ‘a blue haze over everything; I can dimly descry several

theatres, three twenty-firsters, many large dinners, four Saturday

nights, and a couple of outings to town; these, with a slight admixture

of lectures and a row in College, constitutes the employment of most

of us for the last term; one or two have had schools, but for the rest

this is “le monde ou l’on s’amuse.”’

‘True, O King,’ said Squiff, ‘but I am going to turn you all out now,

as I’ve got to pack. I’ve got leave to go down to-morrow: I suppose,

by-the-bye, I shall see you all in town on Saturday at the Rugger

Match.’

‘If not at it, at least afterwards,’ I said; ‘we’ll say the Royal

Leicester for choice, I think, and supper at--?’

‘We can settle that later; you must go now,’ said Squiff hastily,

and so we departed, promising to speed the O’Rossa on his way at the

station. The chronicles of the Rugger Match, and what happened after

it, and before it, and how we all got to it, require a fresh chapter

and a new pen.

VI.

RUGGER NIGHT.

It was Friday, the day before the Rugger Match, and every one was

considering how to get away, as the College Collections were going on

all the morning, and the match began at two o’clock. Those who had

been in the Schools, of course, had no difficulty in getting leave;

but the excuses offered by the rest were more numerous than truthful.

The number of dentists with whom urgent appointments had been made was

simply phenomenal, while several men had relatives who had chosen that

exact day to leave for the Riviera, or to return from South Africa.

The rush by the 12.52, which arrived almost in time for the match,

was unprecedented. Freddy, who had been in for a Viva that morning,

arrived at the station just before the train started, with a shirt in

his coat pocket, and two ties and a collar rolled up in a copy of the

_Daily Mail_. He also brought two bags stuffed with unnecessary things,

bulging and unlocked; he is, I think, the most untidy person in Oxford.

The Pilot, Reggie, de Beresford, Accrington and I were waiting for him

on the platform; and de B. had just offered five to one against his

turning up, but, unfortunately no one had taken him, owing to Freddy’s

known unpunctuality. We secured by the use of palm-oil, a carriage

to ourselves, and played poker on the way up. We finished soon after

Reading, and then the Pilot, who had been in an utterly penniless

condition for two days previously, explained for our benefit how he had

secured the necessary funds for this expedition.

‘You know,’ he began, ‘that picture “The Golden Dream,” by Dicksee;

well, I bought that at Gill and Manser’s in the Corn, when I came up,

and it cost me four guineas. Since then the value of the thing has gone

up, and I got nearly seven pounds for it when I sold it to Pickington

and Bluster. So I kept the fiver for this little trip; and sent the

other people something on account.’

‘How did you know the thing would go up?’ inquired Freddy.

‘I didn’t,’ replied the Pilot. ‘But I knew it wouldn’t go down.’

On our arrival at Paddington we separated for various destinations:

Freddy and I drove straight to Queen’s to meet Squiff who had been up

overnight, and found the match had already started; so we made for

our seats and proceeded to enjoy the game. It was an excellent fight,

but resulted in a draw, which I always consider most unsatisfactory.

However, the last ten minutes were so hard fought, and the relief so

great, that Squiff, when the whistle was blown, out of pure joy planted

his fist through the topper of an elderly and portly person with a gold

chain, who was sitting in front; the old boy (who had been dancing on

one leg and gurgling ‘Cambridge’ loudly) took no notice, but continued

to yell, so we left him, and squeezed our way out. I got into a cab

with Freddy and Squiff, and drove off to the ‘Cabin’ for tea.

‘Poor old Verimisti, who came to town with me yesterday, isn’t up yet,’

Squiff informed us; ‘he was very tired last night, didn’t arrive at

the ‘Knavesmire’ till 4.30 a.m., and then gave the cabby sixpence and

expected him to be satisfied. I had to come down in jimmies, pay the

cabby, and help him to disembark. When I looked him up this morning he

was having his fourth Laager, and at the mere mention of ham he turned

a rich yellow.’

‘I gather, we’re all dining at the ‘Sphere’ at 7.30,’ I said, ‘we shall

be the old crew plus Verimisti (if he’s well enough to come) and de

Beresford. Is Fatty up?’

‘No,’ answered Freddy, ‘Fatty’s got a wealthy uncle in town who

insisted on seeing the Bodleian and James’ Gardens this afternoon; but

he’s going to shunt the old man at five, and coming up ready dressed by

the 5.50.’

‘I shall go back and unpack after tea,’ I said, ‘where are the others

staying?’

‘We’re at the Knavesmire,’ replied Squiff, ‘but von Graussman, and

the Pilot and Reggie are at the Haverstock, while de Beresford and

Accrington are doing themselves proud at the Great Trafalgar.’

The Cabin was crowded, but after some time we got a table, but no

chairs, so I leaned against the wall, while Freddy sat on Squiff’s

knee. This seemed to cause some surprise, until we found ourselves

obliged to give our only seat to a lady who was standing, and as

we couldn’t sit on the floor we left hurriedly and tealess. Two

shillings-worth all round at the American bar at the ‘Cri’ seemed to

revive us wonderfully, and after this it was time to dress, so we

hurried home to the Knavesmire. When we had finished we found Verimisti

painfully dressing, assisted by the boots, and looking very yellow

about the gills.

‘Oh! Freddy,’ he cried when he saw us, ‘I have my tongue so like

sulphur, and have my twelfth laager just drunk, and still thirsty am I!’

We both laughed most unfeelingly, and after he had bathed his aching

brow in cold water, led him gently downstairs, and, having packed

ourselves into two hansoms, made for the Sphere, which we reached,

according to our invariable custom, ten minutes late.

We found the rest of the party already assembled in the big hall, and

made our way to a table for ten which had been reserved for us. The

whole family, especially von Graussman, were in a highly excitable

state, and the stirring selections of cake-walks and musical comedies

that were played by the band caused some of the parties who were dining

in the room to perform most extraordinary antics. A popular Sousa march

was accompanied by clapping of hands, while ‘Sammy’ was sung by the

entire company.

‘Well! here’s confusion to the Examiners,’ said Freddy, as he drained

his glass after the fish; and when Freddy begins drinking--confusion or

otherwise--after the fish, I know what is likely to ensue. Freddy had

also just been ploughed in Contracts.

‘To ’Ell mit dem,’ added von Graussman, who had missed Law Prelim.

again.

These sentiments having been duly honoured, we turned our attention to

‘Ponichets de Volaille,’ which Verimisti, who had got through a quart

of moselle cup on his own, insisted on eating with a table-spoon.

‘There’ll be quite a clearance next term, I’m afraid,’ remarked Squiff;

‘such a number of the Unregenerate have failed in Law Prelim. or Mods.,

and they’re sure to be sent down.’

‘Yes, I was gone to drive mit a gountry vicar, next week,’ remarked von

Graussman pensively, ‘and, oh! but the dullnesses vos ’orrible. Dere

vos only von publig-house vour miles away, and dat they closes at ten

hours. But,’ he added triumphantly, ‘I vos not a Brotestant, and I do

not rise for der service at eight hours morning.’

‘Well, anyhow, we’ll make things hum in the summer,’ said Freddy;

‘it’ll be my last term, and Squiff’s and Reggie’s and several others,

so we must create an impression, and a good one if possible, before we

leave the ’Varsity.’

‘Don’t try and make an impression on the pavement outside the Royal

Leicester to-night,’ said de Beresford mockingly, ‘it’s asphalt and

very hard. I know,’ he added feelingly, ‘I’ve tried it.’

‘Anyhow, let’s make this a record night,’ said Accrington, who bubbled

with excitement.

This sentiment met with a cordial reception. Verimisti rose carefully

from the table and commenced a long and rambling speech which was ended

by the arrival of what the Pilot somewhat coarsely calls ‘The Settler.’

Its real name is Ponche Romaine, and it acts as an appetiser, enabling

one to begin again hungry on the second part of the dinner. This

proceeded somewhat more rapidly, as we found it was getting late. We

honoured several toasts, including ‘Conspuez les dons’ from Verimisti,

‘Hoch der Kaiser!’ from von Graussman, and ‘The Unregenerate’ from

Freddy, and then rather unsteadily the party made its way to the

cloak-room, and got into its outer garments.

A slight sensation was caused by Squiff kissing the girl who sold

buttonholes in the entrance hall, while Verimisti’s attempt to embrace

the stately official outside caused that personage both surprise and

annoyance.

The arrival of the party at the Leicester was accompanied by much

noise, and loud cheers on the part of several other parties who were

also disembarking. As we went up the steps, somebody clutched my arm,

and turning round I found it was Blandford of Barrabas’.

‘Hullo,’ I said, ‘are you coming in?’

‘That’s the question,’ he replied. It appeared that he had already been

thrown out, but wanted to come in with our party again. ‘If I cram my

hat down on my nose, and button up my coat, I’m sure they’ll pass me; I

only want you to say I belong to you.’

‘I’ll try,’ I said dubiously, and we walked on to the barrier where I

presented our ticket for Box 10 and our party passed in, accompanied by

the audible comments of one of the officials on the size of the party.

De Beresford, who came last, was stopped and had to take a five-bob

ticket, for, as the man said, ‘Hi’ve passed hin nine gents for that

borx already, and hits only meant to ’old six or seving.’

The scene within, well, everybody must know it; the ‘five-bob ring’

was absolutely full, ’Varsity men and members of the tender sex being

nearly equal in number.

As we passed along to our box a person with a purple nose and a

battered top-hat was singing about the brokers, and this was about all

we saw of the performance that evening. We left our hats and coats

in the box and then sallied out in a body in search of spirits both

kindred and otherwise.

Owing to the very crowded state of the promenade we were unable to

hold together, and I soon found myself sandwiched between Verimisti

and von Graussman bound for an adjacent bar. As we were turning into

the desired haven the Italian observed a small notice saying ‘No

ladies served in this bar,’ and immediately sheered off with a pained

expression on his very expressive face.

‘We are not ladies, but all the identical we cannot without female

society be,’ he remarked in an injured tone and hustled us rapidly on

to the passage at the further end of the promenade, where a uniformed

official gave us tickets outside the big bar.

This was a scene of indescribable confusion, and as we entered two

porters came forward leading between them a well-known member of the

Cambridge team. He was very talkative, but his eloquence did not appear

to move his captors in the least degree, possibly because none of his

remarks were at all intelligible. After them there followed several

more Cambridge blues and an elderly gentleman with a bucolic face who

appeared to be very irate. The procession passed us with some speed,

but we subsequently found the talkative Cantab singing a song on the

floor of another bar, and discovered that this was due to the influence

of the bucolic gentleman who was an old ’Varsity man and a legal

luminary of very great brilliancy.

The front of the bar itself was hidden by two lines of ’Varsity men,

nearly all asking for different things but all at the same time.

However, I soon found a suitable inlet, and all was going well with

us when one of the fair nymphs behind the bar unfortunately shot von

Graussman in the nose with a lemonade or soda cork, producing an

entirely unexpected effect.

The German fell into the lap of a lady sitting close behind exclaiming

‘Ach? I vos mortified.’ Her cloak covered his head for a moment, but

extricating himself he tendered her his admission-ticket, and begged

her in very broken English to let him out of the cloak-room. To his

impassioned appeal she replied very volubly in German, and an affecting

scene ensued when he fell upon her neck, and loudly claimed her as his

long-lost mother. Within the space of two minutes a large and noisy

crowd had gathered round, and were hoarsely cheering, so it was some

time before Verimisti and I could push our way through. When we did

get to the front, the lady was assuring von Graussman in a penetrating

whisper, that though she was not his mother, she was willing to be his

wife.

Von Graussman, whose impressionable heart was once captured in

Buda Pesth and only redeemed at considerable expense, sheered off

immediately, and confidentially informed us afterwards that ‘she vos a

dam dangerous woman.’

Having made a vain attempt to approach the bar again, we fought our

way back to the promenade, and discovered that ‘Mephisto’ was about to

loop the loop. As everyone was anxious to see this, we regained our

box, which we found crowded to suffocation, and by standing on chairs

at the back got a view of the exciting item. Freddy, who having leant

against the electric bell and ordered drinks round, had gone away and

forgotten to pay, could not be found; so Verimisti shelled out, and

after drinking his health, we moved out again. I may mention that this

was the only item on the programme of which I have any recollection, as

soon afterwards all became dim for a short time, and I only revived

in the further bar with Freddy and Accrington beside me. In the

meanwhile it appears that Squiff and de Beresford, both of whom were

‘among the breakers,’ had made a determined attempt to throw one of the

chuckers-out downstairs, and were now repenting their mistake in the

cool air of Leicester Square; but they subsequently returned in a very

dishevelled condition ‘by some secret way known to all but themselves.’

I am told that I had begun to make skilful arrangements for looping the

loop with the help of two round topped tables, when a stalwart official

requested Squiff and de Beresford to calm me down, which they had

succeeded in doing with a handkerchief soaked in soda-water.

As soon as my sight was thoroughly restored we returned to the box, but

did not feel well enough to take any interest in the performance.

Moreover, just at that moment we were alarmed by thunderous crashes

on the door which Blandford hastily opened, and Verimisti rushed in

followed by a heated and indignant official; he rushed to the front of

the box and began to climb out, endeavouring to drop into the stalls,

explaining meanwhile that he ‘must escape dese awful mens in uneform

who put themselves upon my nerve.’

He became very indignant when Accrington caught him by the collar, and,

in his subsequent struggles to escape, his dress coat was ripped up

astern from top to bottom and part of his braces gave way.

The functionary who had chased him demanded his immediate expulsion,

but when Reggie explained that he belonged to our box he retired

peacefully after accepting a gin-cocktail that had grown upon the floor

by some mysterious means.

As the door closed upon the officer, the voice of Fatty was heard from

underneath a pile of coats in the corner.

‘I don’t know what is happening,’ he remarked plaintively, ‘but if

somebody will fetch me an Angostura and ginger-beer and pay for it, I

shall be quite happy for half-an-hour.’