Hither they repair each day after dinner "_to wine_."

_Ibid._, Vol. I. p. 95.

After dinner I had the honor of _wining_ with no less a personage

than a fellow of the college.--_Ibid._, Vol. I. p. 114.

In _wining_ with a fair one opposite, a luckless piece of jelly

adhered to the tip of his still more luckless nose.--_The Blank

Book of a Small-Colleger_, New York, 1824, p. 75.

WINE PARTY. Among students at the University of Cambridge, Eng.,

an entertainment after dinner, which is thus described by Bristed:

"Many assemble at _wine parties_ to chat over a frugal dessert of

oranges, biscuits, and cake, and sip a few glasses of not

remarkably good wine. These wine parties are the most common

entertainments, being rather the cheapest and very much the most

convenient, for the preparations required for them are so slight

as not to disturb the studies of the hardest reading man, and they

take place at a time when no one pretends to do any work."--_Five

Years in an Eng. Univ._, Ed. 2d, p. 21.

WIRE. At Harvard College, a trick; an artifice; a stratagem; a

_dodge_.

WIRY. Trickish; artful.

WITENAGEMOTE. Saxon, _witan_, to know, and _gemot_, a meeting, a

council.

In the University of Oxford, the weekly meeting of the heads of

the colleges.--_Oxford Guide_.

WOODEN SPOON. In the University of Cambridge, Eng., the scholar

whose name stands last of all on the printed list of honors, at

the Bachelors' Commencement in January, is scoffingly said to gain

the _wooden spoon_. He is also very currently himself called the

_wooden spoon_.

A young academic coming into the country immediately after this

great competition, in which he had conspicuously distinguished

himself, was asked by a plain country gentleman, "Pray, Sir, is my

Jack a Wrangler?" "No, Sir." Now Jack had confidently pledged

himself to his uncle that he would take his degree with honor. "A

Senior Optime?" "No, Sir." "Why, what was he then?" "Wooden

Spoon!" "Best suited to his wooden head," said the mortified

inquirer.--_Forby's Vocabulary_, Vol. II. p. 258.

It may not perhaps be improper to mention one very remarkable

personage, I mean "the _Wooden Spoon_." This luckless wight (for

what cause I know not) is annually the universal butt and

laughing-stock of the whole Senate-House. He is the last of those

young men who take honors, in his year, and is called a Junior

Optime; yet, notwithstanding his being in fact superior to them

all, the very lowest of the [Greek: oi polloi], or gregarious

undistinguished bachelors, think themselves entitled to shoot the

pointless arrows of their clumsy wit against the _wooden spoon_;

and to reiterate the stale and perennial remark, that "Wranglers

are born with gold spoons in their mouths, Senior Optimes with

silver, Junior Optimes with _wooden_, and the [Greek: oi polloi]

with leaden ones."--_Gent. Mag._, 1795, p. 19.

Who while he lives must wield the boasted prize,

Whose value all can feel, the weak, the wise;

Displays in triumph his distinguished boon,

The solid honors of the _wooden spoon_.

_Grad. ad Cantab._, p. 119.

2. At Yale College, this title is conferred on the student who

takes the last appointment at the Junior Exhibition. The following

account of the ceremonies incident to the presentation of the

Wooden Spoon has been kindly furnished by a graduate of that

institution.

"At Yale College the honors, or, as they are there termed,

appointments, are given to a class twice during the course;--upon

the merits of the two preceding years, at the end of the first

term, Junior; and at the end of the second term, Senior, upon the

merits of the whole college course. There are about eight grades

of appointments, the lowest of which is the Third Colloquy. Each

grade has its own standard, and if a number of students have

attained to the same degree, they receive the same appointment. It

is rarely the case, however, that more than one student can claim

the distinction of a third colloquy; but when there are several,

they draw lots to see which is entitled to be considered properly

_the_ third colloquy man.

"After the Junior appointments are awarded, the members of the

Junior Class hold an exhibition similar to the regular Junior

exhibition, and present a _wooden spoon_ to the man who received

the lowest honor in the gift of the Faculty.

"The exhibition takes place in the evening, at some public hall in

town. Except to those engaged in the arrangements, nothing is

known about it among the students at large, until the evening of

the performances, when notices of the hour and place are quietly

circulated at prayers, in order that it may not reach the ears of

the Faculty, who are ever too ready to participate in the sports

of the students, and to make the result tell unfavorably against

the college welfare of the more prominent characters.

"As the appointed hour approaches, long files of black coats may

be seen emerging from the dark halls, and winding their way

through the classic elms towards the Temple, the favorite scene of

students' exhibitions and secret festivals. When they reach the

door, each man must undergo the searching scrutiny of the

door-keeper, usually disguised as an Indian, to avoid being

recognized by a college officer, should one chance to be in the

crowd, and no one is allowed to enter unless he is known.

"By the time the hour of the exercises has arrived, the hall is

densely packed with undergraduates and professional students. The

President, who is a non-appointment man, and probably the poorest

scholar in the class, sits on a stage with his associate

professors. Appropriate programmes, printed in the college style,

are scattered throughout the house. As the hour strikes, the

President arises with becoming dignity, and, instead of the usual

phrase, 'Musicam audeamus,' restores order among the audience by

'Silentiam audeamus,' and then addresses the band, 'Musica

cantetur.'

"Then follow a series of burlesque orations, dissertations, and

disputes, upon scientific and other subjects, from the wittiest

and cleverest men in the class, and the house is kept in a

continual roar of laughter. The highest appointment men frequently

take part in the speeches. From time to time the band play, and

the College choir sing pieces composed for the occasion. In one of

the best, called AUDACIA, composed in imitation of the Crambambuli

song, by a member of the class to which the writer belonged, the

Wooden Spoon is referred to in the following stanza:--

'But do not think our life is aimless;

O no! we crave one blessed boon,

It is the prize of value nameless,

The honored, classic WOODEN SPOON;

But give us this, we'll shout Hurrah!

O nothing like Audacia!'

"After the speeches are concluded and the music has ceased, the

President rises and calls the name of the hero of the evening, who

ascends the stage and stands before the high dignitary. The

President then congratulates him upon having attained to so

eminent a position, and speaks of the pride that he and his

associates feel in conferring upon him the highest honor in their

gift,--the Wooden Spoon. He exhorts him to pursue through life the

noble cruise he has commenced in College,--not seeking glory as

one of the illiterate,--the [Greek: oi polloi],--nor exactly on

the fence, but so near to it that he may safely be said to have

gained the 'happy medium.'

"The President then proceeds to the grand ceremony of the evening,

--the delivery of the Wooden Spoon,--a handsomely finished spoon,

or ladle, with a long handle, on which is carved the name of the

Class, and the rank and honor of the recipient, and the date of

its presentation. The President confers the honor in Latin,

provided he and his associates are able to muster a sufficient

number of sentences.

"When the President resumes his seat, the Third Colloquy man

thanks his eminent instructors for the honor conferred upon him,

and thanks (often with sincerity) the class for the distinction he

enjoys. The exercises close with music by the band, or a burlesque

colloquy. On one occasion, the colloquy was announced upon the

programme as 'A Practical Illustration of Humbugging,' with a long

list of witty men as speakers, to appear in original costumes.

Curiosity was very much excited, and expectation on the tiptoe,

when the colloquy became due. The audience waited and waited until

sufficiently _humbugged_, when they were allowed to retire with

the laugh turned against them.

"Many men prefer the Wooden Spoon to any other college honor or

prize, because it comes directly from their classmates, and hence,

perhaps, the Faculty disapprove of it, considering it as a damper

to ambition and college distinctions."

This account of the Wooden Spoon Exhibition was written in the

year 1851. Since then its privacy has been abolished, and its

exercises are no longer forbidden by the Faculty. Tutors are now

not unfrequently among the spectators at the presentation, and

even ladies lend their presence, attention, and applause, to

beautify, temper, and enliven the occasion.

The "_Wooden Spoon_," tradition says, was in ancient times

presented to the greatest glutton in the class, by his

appreciating classmates. It is now given to the one whose name

comes last on the list of appointees for the Junior Exhibition,

though this rule is not strictly followed. The presentation takes

place during the Summer Term, and in vivacity with respect to the

literary exercises, and brilliance in point of audience, forms a

rather formidable rival to the regularly authorized Junior

Exhibition.--_Songs of Tale_, Preface, 1853, p. 4.

Of the songs which are sung in connection with the wooden spoon

presentation, the following is given as a specimen.

"Air,--_Yankee Doodle_.

"Come, Juniors, join this jolly tune

Our fathers sang before us;

And praise aloud the wooden spoon

In one long, swelling chorus.

Yes! let us, Juniors, shout and sing

The spoon and all its glory,--

Until the welkin loudly ring

And echo back the story.

"Who would not place this precious boon

Above the Greek Oration?

Who would not choose the wooden spoon

Before a dissertation?

Then, let, &c.

"Some pore o'er classic works jejune,

Through all their life at College,--

I would not pour, but use the spoon

To fill my mind with knowledge.

So let, &c.

"And if I ever have a son

Upon my knee to dandle,

I'll feed him with a wooden spoon

Of elongated handle.

Then let, &c.

"Most college honors vanish soon,

Alas! returning never,

But such a noble wooden spoon

Is tangible for ever.

So let, &c.

"Now give, in honor of the spoon,

Three cheers, long, loud, and hearty,

And three for every honored June

In coch-le-au-re-a-ti.[88]

Yes! let us, Juniors, shout and sing

The spoon and all its glory,--

Until the welkin loudly ring

And echo back the story."

_Songs of Yale_, 1853, p. 37.

WRANGLER. In the University of Cambridge, Eng., at the conclusion

of the tenth term, the final examination in the Senate-House takes

place. A certain number of those who pass this examination in the

best manner are called _Wranglers_.

The usual number of _Wranglers_--whatever Wrangler may have meant

once, it now implies a First Class man in Mathematics--is

thirty-seven or thirty-eight. Sometimes it falls to thirty-five,

and occasionally rises above forty.--_Bristed's Five Years in an

Eng. Univ._, Ed. 2d, p. 227.

See SENIOR WRANGLER.

WRANGLERSHIP. The office of a _Wrangler_.

He may be considered pretty safe for the highest _Wranglership_

out of Trinity.--_Bristed's Five Years in an Eng. Univ._, Ed. 2d,

p. 103.

WRESTLING-MATCH. At Harvard College, it was formerly the custom,

on the first Monday of the term succeeding the Commencement

vacation, for the Sophomores to challenge the Freshmen who had

just entered College to a wrestling-match. A writer in the New

England Magazine, 1832, in an article entitled "Harvard College

Forty Years Ago," remarks as follows on this subject: "Another

custom, not enjoined by the government, had been in vogue from

time immemorial. That was for the Sophomores to challenge the

Freshmen to a wrestling-match. If the Sophomores were thrown, the

Juniors gave a similar challenge. If these were conquered, the

Seniors entered the lists, or treated the victors to as much wine,

punch, &c. as they chose to drink. In my class, there were few who

had either taste, skill, or bodily strength for this exercise, so

that we were easily laid on our backs, and the Sophomores were

acknowledged our superiors, in so far as 'brute force' was

concerned. Being disgusted with these customs, we held a

class-meeting, early in our first quarter, and voted unanimously

that we should never send a Freshman on an errand; and, with but

one dissenting voice, that we would not challenge the next class

that should enter to wrestle. When the latter vote was passed, our

moderator, pointing at the dissenting individual with the finger

of scorn, declared it to be a vote, _nemine contradicente_. We

commenced Sophomores, another Freshman Class entered, the Juniors

challenged them, and were thrown. The Seniors invited them to a

treat, and these barbarous customs were soon after

abolished."--Vol. III. p. 239.

The Freshman Class above referred to, as superior to the Junior,

was the one which graduated in 1796, of which Mr. Thomas Mason,

surnamed "the College Lion," was a member,--"said," remarks Mr.

Buckingham, "to be the greatest _wrestler_ that was ever in

College. He was settled as a clergyman at Northfield, Mass.,

resigned his office some years after, and several times

represented that town in the Legislature of Massachusetts."

Charles Prentiss, the wit of the Class of '95, in a will written

on his departure from college life, addresses Mason as follows:--

"Item. Tom M----n, COLLEGE LION,

Who'd ne'er spend cash enough to buy one,

The BOANERGES of a pun,

A man of science and of fun,

That quite uncommon witty elf,

Who darts his bolts and shoots himself,

Who oft has bled beneath my jokes,

I give my old _tobacco-box_."

_Buckingham's Reminiscences_, Vol. II. p. 271.

The fame which Mr. Mason had acquired while in College for bodily

strength and skill in wrestling, did not desert him after he left.

While settled as a minister at Northfield, a party of young men

from Vermont challenged the young men of that town to a bout at

wrestling. The challenge was accepted, and on a given day the two

parties assembled at Northfield. After several rounds, when it

began to appear that the Vermonters were gaining the advantage, a

proposal was made, by some who had heard of Mr. Mason's exploits,

that he should be requested to take part in the contest. It had

now grown late, and the minister, who usually retired early, had

already betaken himself to bed. Being informed of the request of

the wrestlers, for a long time he refused to go, alleging as

reasons his ministerial capacity, the force of example, &c.

Finding these excuses of no avail, he finally arose, dressed

himself, and repaired to the scene of action. Shouts greeted him

on his arrival, and he found himself on the wrestling-field, as he

had stood years ago at Cambridge. The champion of the Vermonters

came forward, flushed with his former victories. After playing

around him for some time, Mr. Mason finally threw him. Having by

this time collected his ideas of the game, when another antagonist

appeared, tripping up his heels with perfect ease, he suddenly

twitched him off his centre and laid him on his back. Victory was

declared in favor of Northfield, and the good minister was borne

home in triumph.

Similar to these statements are those of Professor Sidney Willard

relative to the same subject, contained in his late work entitled

"Memories of Youth and Manhood." Speaking of the observances in

vogue at Harvard College in the year 1794, he says:--"Next to

being indoctrinated in the Customs, so called, by the Sophomore

Class, there followed the usual annual exhibition of the athletic

contest between that class and the Freshman Class, namely, the

wrestling-match. On some day of the second week in the term, after

evening prayers, the two classes assembled on the play-ground and

formed an extended circle, from which a stripling of the Sophomore

Class advanced into the area, and, in terms justifying the vulgar

use of the derivative word Sophomorical, defied his competitors,

in the name of his associates, to enter the lists. He was matched

by an equal in stature, from that part of the circle formed by the

new-comers. Beginning with these puny athletes, as one and another

was prostrated on either side, the contest advanced through the

intermediate gradations of strength and skill, with increasing

excitement of the parties and spectators, until it reached its

summit by the struggle of the champion or coryphæus in reserve on

each of the opposite sides. I cannot now affirm with certainty the

result of the contest; whether it was a drawn battle, whether it

ended with the day, or was postponed for another trial. It

probably ended in the defeat of the younger party, for there were

more and mightier men among their opponents. Had we been

victorious, it would have behooved us, according to established

precedents, to challenge the Junior Class, which was not done.

Such a result, if it had taken place, could not fade from the

memory of the victors; while failure, on the contrary, being an

issue to be looked for, would soon be dismissed from the thoughts

of the vanquished. Instances had occurred of the triumph of the

Freshman Class, and one of them recent, when a challenge in due

form was sent to the Juniors, who, thinking the contest too

doubtful, wisely resolved to let the victors rejoice in their

laurels already won; and, declining to meet them in the gymnasium,

invited them to a sumptuous feast instead.

"Wrestling was, at an after period, I cannot say in what year,

superseded by football; a grovelling and inglorious game in

comparison. Wrestling is an art; success in the exercise depends

not on mere bodily strength. It had, at the time of which I have

spoken, its well-known and acknowledged technical rules, and any

violation of them, alleged against one who had prostrated his

adversary, became a matter of inquiry. If it was found that the

act was not achieved _secundum artem_, it was void, and might be

followed by another trial."--Vol. I. pp. 260, 261.

Remarks on this subject are continued in another part of the work

from which the above extract is made, and the story of Thomas

Mason is related, with a few variations from the generally

received version. "Wrestling," says Professor Willard, "was

reduced to an art, which had its technical terms for the movement

of the limbs, and the manner of using them adroitly, with the

skill acquired by practice in applying muscular force at the right

time and in the right degree. Success in the art, therefore,

depended partly on skill; and a violation of the rules of the

contest vitiated any apparent triumph gained by mere physical

strength. There were traditionary accounts of some of our

predecessors who were commemorated as among the coryphæi of

wrestlers; a renown that was not then looked upon with contempt.

The art of wrestling was not then confined to the literary

gymnasium. It was practised in every rustic village. There were

even migrating braves and Hectors, who, in their wanderings from

their places of abode to villages more or less distant, defied the

chiefest of this order of gymnasts to enter the lists. In a

country town of Massachusetts remote from the capital, one of

these wanderers appeared about half a century since, and issued a

general challenge against the foremost wrestlers. The clergyman of

the town, a son of Harvard, whose fame in this particular had

travelled from the academic to the rustic green, was apprised of

the challenge, and complied with the solicitation of some of his

young parishioners to accept it in their behalf. His triumph over

the challenger was completed without agony or delay, and having

prostrated him often enough to convince him of his folly, he threw

him over the stone wall, and gravely admonished him against

repeating his visit, and disturbing the peace of his

parish."--Vol. I. p. 315.

The peculiarities of Thomas Mason were his most noticeable

characteristics. As an orator, his eloquence was of the _ore

rotundo_ order; as a writer, his periods were singularly

Johnsonian. He closed his ministerial labors in Northfield,

February 28, 1830, on which occasion he delivered a farewell

discourse, taking for his text, the words of Paul to Timothy: "The

time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I

have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there

is laid up for me a crown of righteousness."

As a specimen of his style of writing, the following passages are

presented, taken from this discourse:--"Time, which forms the

scene of all human enterprise, solicitude, toil, and improvement,

and which fixes the limitations of all human pleasures and

sufferings, has at length conducted us to the termination of our

long-protracted alliance. An assignment of the reasons of this

measure must open a field too extended and too diversified for our

present survey. Nor could a development of the whole be any way

interesting to us, to whom alone this address is now submitted.

Suffice it to say, that in the lively exercise of mutual and

unimpaired friendship and confidence, the contracting parties,

after sober, continued, and unimpassioned deliberation, have

yielded to existing circumstances, as a problematical expedient of

social blessing."

After commenting upon the declaration of Paul, he continued: "The

Apostle proceeds, 'I have fought a good fight' Would to God I

could say the same! Let me say, however, without the fear of

contradiction, 'I have fought a fight!' How far it has been

'good,' I forbear to decide." His summing up was this: "You see,

my hearers, all I can say, in common with the Apostle in the text,

is this: 'The time of my departure is at hand,'--and, 'I have

finished my course.'"

Referring then to the situation which he had occupied, he said:

"The scene of our alliance and co-operation, my friends, has been

one of no ordinary cast and character. The last half-century has

been pregnant with novelty, project, innovation, and extreme

excitement. The pillars of the social edifice have been shaken,

and the whole social atmosphere has been decomposed by alchemical

demagogues and revolutionary apes. The sickly atmosphere has

suffused a morbid humor over the whole frame, and left the social

body little more than 'the empty and bloody skin of an immolated

victim.'

"We pass by the ordinary incidents of alienation, which are too

numerous, and too evanescent to admit of detail. But seasons and

circumstances of great alarm are not readily forgotten. We have

witnessed, and we have felt, my friends, a political convulsion,

which seemed the harbinger of inevitable desolation. But it has

passed by with a harmless explosion, and returning friends have

paused in wonder, at a moment's suspension of friendship. Mingled

with the factitious mass, there was a large spice of sincerity

which sanctified the whole composition, and restored the social

body to sanity, health, and increased strength and vigor.

"Thrice happy must be our reflections could we stop here, and

contemplate the ascending prosperity and increasing vigor of this

religious community. But the one half has not yet been told,--the

beginning has hardly been begun. Could I borrow the language of

the spirits of wrath,--was my pen transmuted to a viper's tooth

dipped in gore,--was my paper transformed to a vellum which no

light could illume, and which only darkness could render legible,

I could, and I would, record a tale of blood, of which the foulest

miscreant must burn in ceaseless anguish only once to have been

suspected. But I refer to imagination what description can never

reach."

What the author referred to in this last paragraph no one knew,

nor did he ever advance any explanation of these strange words.

Near the close of his discourse, he said: "Standing in the place

of a Christian minister among you, through the whole course of my

ministrations, it has been my great and leading aim ever to

maintain and exhibit the character and example of a Christian man.

With clerical foppery, grimace, craft, and hypocrisy, I have had

no concern. In the free participation of every innocent

entertainment and delight, I have pursued an open, unreserved

course, equally removed from the mummery of superstition and the

dissipation of infidelity. And though I have enjoyed my full share

of honor from the scandal of bigotry and malice, yet I may safely

congratulate myself in the reflection, that by this liberal and

independent progress were men weighed in the balance of

intellectual, social, and moral worth, I have yet never lost a

single friend who was worth preserving."--pp. 3, 4, 5, 9, 10, 11.

_Y_.

YAGER FIGHTS. At Bowdoin College, "_Yager Fights_," says a

correspondent, "are the annual conflicts which occur between the

townsmen and the students. The Yagers (from the German _Jager_, a

hunter, a chaser) were accustomed, when the lumbermen came down

the river in the spring, to assemble in force, march up to the

College yard with fife and drum, get famously drubbed, and retreat

in confusion to their dens. The custom has become extinct within

the past four years, in consequence of the non-appearance of the

Yagers."

YALENSIAN. A student at or a member of Yale College.

In making this selection, we have been governed partly by poetic

merit, but more by the associations connected with various pieces

inserted, in the minds of the present generation of _Yalensians_.

--_Preface to Songs of Yale_, 1853.

The _Yalensian_ is off for Commencement.--_Yale Lit. Mag._, Vol.

XIX. p. 355.

YANKEE. According to the account of this word as given by Dr.

William Gordon, it appears to have been in use among the students

of Harvard College at a very early period. A citation from his

work will show this fact in its proper light.

"You may wish to know the origin of the term _Yankee_. Take the

best account of it which your friend can procure. It was a cant,

favorite word with Farmer Jonathan Hastings, of Cambridge, about

1713. Two aged ministers, who were at the College in that town,

have told me, they remembered it to have been then in use among

the students, but had no recollection of it before that period.

The inventor used it to express excellency. A _Yankee_ good horse,

or _Yankee_ cider, and the like, were an excellent good horse and

excellent cider. The students used to hire horses of him; their

intercourse with him, and his use of the term upon all occasions,

led them to adopt it, and they gave him the name of Yankee Jon. He

was a worthy, honest man, but no conjurer. This could not escape

the notice of the collegiates. Yankee probably became a by-word

among them to express a weak, simple, awkward person; was carried

from the College with them when they left it, and was in that way

circulated and established through the country, (as was the case

in respect to Hobson's choice, by the students at Cambridge, in

Old England,) till, from its currency in New England, it was at

length taken up and unjustly applied to the New-Englanders in

common, as a term of reproach."--_American War_, Ed. 1789, Vol. I.

pp. 324, 325. _Thomas's Spy_, April, 1789, No. 834.

In the Massachusetts Magazine, Vol. VII., p. 301, the editor, the

Rev. Thaddeus Mason Harris, D.D., of Dorchester, referring to a

letter written by the Rev. John Seccombe, and dated "Cambridge,

Sept. 27, 1728," observes: "It is a most humorous narrative of the

fate of a goose roasted at 'Yankee Hastings's,' and it concludes

with a poem on the occasion, in the mock-heroic." The fact of the

name is further substantiated in the following remarks by the Rev.

John Langdon Sibley, of Harvard College: "Jonathan Hastings,

Steward of the College from 1750 to 1779,... was a son of Jonathan

Hastings, a tanner, who was called 'Yankee Hastings,' and lived on

the spot at the northwest corner of Holmes Place in Old Cambridge,

where, not many years since, a house was built by the late William

Pomeroy."--_Father Abbey's Will_, Cambridge, Mass., 1854, pp. 7,

8.

YEAR. At the English universities, the undergraduate course is

three years and a third. Students of the first year are called

Freshmen, and the other classes at Cambridge are, in popular

phrase, designated successively Second-year Men, Third-year Men,

and Men who are just going out. The word _year_ is often used in

the sense of class.

The lecturer stands, and the lectured sit, even when construing,

as the Freshmen are sometimes asked to do; the other _Years_ are

only called on to listen.--_Bristed's Five Years in an Eng.

Univ._, Ed. 2d, p. 18.

Of the "_year_" that entered with me at Trinity, three men died

before the time of graduating.--_Ibid._, p. 330.

YEOMAN-BEDELL. At the University of Cambridge, Eng., the

_yeoman-bedell_ in processions precedes the esquire-bedells,

carrying an ebony mace, tipped with silver.--_Cam. Guide_.

At the University of Oxford, the yeoman-bedels bear the silver

staves in procession. The vice-chancellor never walks out without

being preceded by a yeoman-bedel with his insignium of

office.--_Guide to Oxford_.

See BEADLE.

YOUNG BURSCH. In the German universities, a name given to a

student during his third term, or _semester_.

The fox year is then over, and they wash the eyes of the new-baked

_Young Bursche_, since during the fox-year he was held to be

blind, the fox not being endued with reason.--_Howitt's Student

Life of Germany_, Am. ed., p. 124.

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