MR. VERDANT GREEN ATTENDS LECTURES AND, IN DESPITE OF
SERMONS, HAS DEALINGS WITH FILTHY LUCRE.
OUR freshman, like all other freshmen, now began to think seriously
of work, and plunged desperately into all the lectures that it was
possible for him to attend, beginning every course with a zealousness
that shewed him to be filled with the idea that such a plan was
eminently necessary for the attainment of his degree; in all this in
every respect deserving the Humane Society's medal for his brave
plunge into the depths of the Pierian spring, to fish up the beauties
that had been immersed therein by the poets of old. When we say that
our freshman, like other freshmen, "began" this course, we use the
verb advisedly; for, like many other freshmen who start with a burst
in learning's race, he soon got winded, and fell back among the ruck.
But the course of lectures, like the course of true love, will not
always run smooth, even to those who undertake it with the same
courage as Mr. Verdant Green.
The dryness of the daily routine of lectures, which varied about as
much as the steak-and-chop, chop-and-steak dinners of ancient
taverns, was occasionally relieved by episodes, which, though not
witty in themselves, were yet the cause of wit in others; for it
takes but little to cause amusement in a lecture-room, where a bad
construe; or the imaginative excuses of late-comers; or the confusion
of some young gentleman who has to turn over the leaf of his Greek
play and finds it uncut; or the pounding of the same gentleman in the
middle of the first chorus; or his offensive extrication therefrom
through the medium of some Cumberland barbarian; or the officiousness
of the same barbarian to pursue the lecture when every one else has,
with singular unanimity, "read no further;" - all these circumstances,
although perhaps dull enough in themselves, are nevertheless
productive of some mirth in a lecture-room.
But if there were often late-comers to the lectures, there were
occasionally early-goers from them. Had Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke
an engagement to ride his horse ~Tearaway~ in the amateur
steeple-chase, and was he constrained, by circumstances over which
(as he protested) he had no control, to put
[84 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
in a regular appearance at Mr. Slowcoach's lectures, what was it
necessary for him to do more than to come to lecture in a long
greatcoat, put his handkerchief to his face as though his nose were
bleeding, look appealingly at Mr. Slowcoach, and, as he made his
exit, pull aside the long greatcoat, and display to his admiring
colleagues the snowy cords and tops that would soon be pressing
against ~Tearaway's~ sides, that gallant animal being then in
waiting, with its trusty groom, in the alley at the back of
Brazenface? And if little Mr. Bouncer, for astute <VG084.JPG>
reasons of his own, wished Mr. Slowcoach to believe that he (Mr. B.)
was particularly struck with his (Mr. S.'s) remarks on the force of
{kata} in composition, what was to prevent Mr. Bouncer from feigning
to make a note of these remarks by the aid of a cigar instead of an
ordinary pencil?
But besides the regular lectures of Mr. Slowcoach, our hero had also
the privilege of attending those of the Rev. Richard Harmony. Much
learning, though it had not made Mr. Harmony mad, had, at least in
conjunction with his natural tendencies, contributed to make him
extremely eccentric; while to much perusal of Greek and Hebrew MSS.,
he probably owed his defective vision. These infirmities, instead of
being regarded with sympathy, as wounds received by Mr. Harmony in
the classical engagements in the various fields of literature, were,
to Mr. Verdant Green's surprise, much imposed upon;
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 85]
for it was a favourite pastime with the gentlemen who attended Mr.
Harmony's lectures, to gradually raise up the lecture-table by a
concerted action, and when Mr. Harmony's book had nearly reached to
the level of his nose, to then suddenly drop the table to its
original level; upon which Mr. Harmony, to the immense gratification
of all concerned, would rub his eyes, wipe his glasses, and murmur,
"Dear me! dear me! how my head swims this morning!" And then he
would perhaps ring <VG085.JPG> for his servant, and order his usual
remedy, an orange, at which he would suck abstractedly, nor discover
any difference in the flavour even when a lemon was surreptitiously
substituted. And thus he would go on through the lecture, sucking
his orange (or lemon), explaining and expounding in the most skilful
and lucid manner, and yet, as far as the "table-movement" was
concerned, as unsuspecting and as witless as a little child.
Mr. Verdant Green not only (at first) attended lectures with
exemplary diligence and regularity, but he also duly went to morning
and evening chapel; nor, when Sundays came, did he neglect to turn
his feet towards St. Mary's to hear the University sermons. Their
effect was as striking to him as it probably is to most persons who
have only been accustomed to the usual services of country churches.
First, there was the peculiar character of the congregation: down
below, the vice-chancellor in his throne, overlooking the other dons
in
[86 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
their stalls (being "a complete realization of stalled Oxon!" as
Charles Larkyns whispered to our hero), who were relieved in colour
by their crimson or scarlet hoods; and then, "upstairs," in the north
and the great west galleries, the black <VG086.JPG> mass of
undergraduates; while a few ladies' bonnets and heads of male
visitors peeped from the pews in the aisles, or looked out from the
curtains of the organ-gallery, where, "by the kind permission of Dr.
Elvey," they were accommodated with seats, and watched with wonder,
while
"The wild wizard's fingers,
With magical skill,
Made music that lingers,
In memory still."
Then there was the bidding-prayer, in which Mr. Verdant Green was
somewhat astonished to hear the long list of founders
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 87]
and benefactors, "such as were, Philip Pluckton, Bishop of Iffley;
King Edward the Seventh; Stephen de Henley, Earl of Bagley, and Maud
his wife; Nuneham Courtney, knight," with a long et-cetera; though,
as the preacher happened to be a Brazenface man, our hero found that
he was "most chiefly bound to praise Clement Abingdon, Bishop of
Jericho, and founder of the college of Brazenface; Richard Glover,
Duke of Woodstock; Giles Peckwater, Abbot of Beney; and Binsey
Green, Doctor of Music; - benefactors of the same."
Then there was the sermon itself; the abstrusely learned and
classical character of which, at first, also astonished him, after
having been so long used to the plain and highly practical advice
which the rector, Mr. Larkyns, knew how to convey so well and so
simply to his rustic hearers. But as soon as he had reflected on the
very different characters of the two congregations, Mr. Verdant Green
at once recognized the appropriateness of each class of sermons to
its peculiar hearers; yet he could not altogether drive away the
thought, how the generality of those who had on previous Sundays been
his fellow-worshippers would open their blue Saxon eyes, and ransack
their rustic brains, as to "what ~could~ ha' come to rector," if he
were to indulge in Greek and Latin quotations, - ~somewhat~ after the
following style. "And though this interpretation may in these days be
disputed, yet we shall find that it was once very generally received.
For the learned St. Chrysostom is very clear on this point, where he
says, 'Arma virumque cano, rusticus expectat, sub tegmine fagi'; of
which the words of Irenaeus are a confirmation -
{otototoio, papaperax, poluphloisboio thalassaes}."
Our hero, indeed, could not but help wondering what the fairer portion
of the congregation made of these parts of the sermons, to whom,
probably, the sentences just quoted would have sounded as full of
meaning as those they really heard.
* * * * * * * *
"Hallo, Giglamps!" said the cheery voice of little Mr. Bouncer, as
he looked one morning into Verdant's rooms, followed by his two
bull-terriers; "why don't you sport something in the dog line?
Something in the bloodhound or tarrier way. Ain't you fond o' dogs?"
"Oh, very!" replied our hero. "I once had a very nice one, - a King
Charles."
"Oh!" observed Mr. Bouncer, "one of them beggars that you have to
feed with spring chickens, and get up with curling tongs. Ah!
they're all very well in their way, and do for women and
carriage-exercise; but give ~me~ this sort of thing!" and Mr. Bouncer
patted one of his villainous looking pets, who
[88 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
wagged his corkscrew tail in reply. "Now, these are beauties, and no
mistake! What you call useful and ornamental; ain't you, Buzzy? The
beggars are brothers; so I call them Huz and Buz:- Huz his
first-born, you know, and Buz his brother."
"I should like a dog," said Verdant; "but where could I keep one?"
"Oh, anywhere!" replied Mr. Bouncer confidently. "I keep these
beggars in the little shop for coal, just outside the door. It ain't
the law, I know; but what's the odds as long as they're happy?
~They~ think it no end of a lark. I once had a Newfunland, and tried
~him~ there; but the obstinate brute considered it too small for him,
and barked himself in such an unnatural manner, that at last he'd got
no wool on the top of his head, - just the place where the wool ought
to grow, you know; so I swopped the beggar to a Skimmery* man for a
regular slap-up set of pets of the ballet, framed and glazed,
petticoats and all, mind you. But about your dog, Giglamps: -that
cupboard there would be just the ticket; you could put him under the
wine-bottles, and then there'd be wine above and whine below.
~Videsne puer~? D'ye twig, young 'un? But if you're squeamish about
that, there are heaps of places in the town where you could keep a
beast."
So, when our hero had been persuaded that the possession of an animal
of the terrier species was absolutely necessary to a University man's
existence, he had not to look about long without having the void
filled up. Money will in most places procure any thing, from a grant
of arms to a pair of wooden legs; so it is not surprising if, in
Oxford, such an every-day commodity as a dog can be obtained through
the medium of "filthy lucre;" for there was a well-known dog-fancier
and proprietor, whose surname was that of the rich substantive just
mentioned, to which had been prefixed the "filthy" adjective,
probably for the sake of euphony. As usual, Filthy Lucre was
clumping with his lame leg up and down the pavement just in front of
the Brazenface gate, accompanied by his last "new and extensive
assortment" of terriers of every variety, which he now pulled up for
the inspection of Mr. Verdant Green.
"Is it a long-aird dawg, or a smooth 'un, as you'd most fancy?"
inquired Mr. Lucre. "Har, sir!" he continued, in a flattering tone, as
he saw our hero's eye dwelling on a Skye terrier; "I see you're a
gent as ~does~ know a good style of dawg, when you see 'un! It ain't
often as you see a Skye sich as that, sir! Look at his colour, sir,
and the way he looks out of his 'air! He answers to the name of
~Mop~, sir, in
---
* Oxford slang for "St. Mary's Hall."
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 89]
consekvence of the length of his 'air; and he's cheap as dirt, sir,
at four-ten! It's a throwin' of him away at the price; and I
shouldn't do it, but I've got more dawgs than I've room for; so I'm
obligated to make a sacrifice. Four-ten, sir! 'Ad the distemper, and
everythink, and a reg'lar good 'un for the varmin."
His merits also being testified to by Mr. Larkyns and Mr. Bouncer
(who was considered a high authority in canine <VG089.JPG> matters),
and Verdant also liking the quaint appearance of the dog, ~Mop~
eventually became his property, for "four-ten" ~minus~ five
shillings, but ~plus~ a pint of buttery beer, which Mr. Lucre always
pronounced to be customary "in all dealins whatsumever atween
gentlemen." Verdant was highly gratified at possessing a real
University dog, and he patted ~Mop~, and said, "Poo dog! poo Mop! poo
fellow then!" and thought what a pet his sisters would make of him
when he took him back home with him for the holi - the Vacation!
~Mop~ was for following Mr. Lucre, who had clumped away up the
street; and his new master had some difficulty in keeping him at his
heels. By Mr. Bouncer's advice, he at once took him over the river
to the field opposite the Christ Church
[90 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
meadows, in order to test his rat-killing powers. How this could be
done out in the open country, our hero was at a loss to know; but he
discreetly held his tongue, for he was gradually becoming aware that
a freshman in Oxford must live to learn, and that, as with most men,
~experientia docet~.
They had just been punted over the river, and ~Mop~ had been restored
to ~terra firma~, when Mr. Bouncer's remark of "There's the cove
that'll do the trick for you!" directed Verdant's <VG090.JPG>
attention to an individual, who, from his general appearance, might
have been first cousin to "Filthy Lucre," only that his live stock
was of a different description. Slung from his shoulders was a large
but shallow wire cage, in which were about a dozen doomed rats, whose
futile endeavours to make their escape by running up the sides of
their prison were regarded with the most intense earnestness by a
group of terriers, who gave way to various phases of excitement. In
his hand he carried a small circular cage, containing two or three
rats for immediate use. On the receipt of sixpence, one of these was
liberated; and a few yards start being (sportsmanlike) allowed, the
speculator's terrier was then let loose, joined gratuitously, after a
short interval, by a perfect pack in full cry, with a human chorus of
"Hoo rat! Too loo! loo dog!" The rat turned, twisted, doubled,
became confused,
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 91]
was overtaken, and, with one grip and a shake, was dead; while the
excited pack returned to watch and jump at the wire cages until
another doomed prisoner was tossed forth to them. Gentlemen on their
way for a walk were thus enabled to wile away a few minutes at the
noble sport, and indulge themselves and their dogs with a little
healthy excitement; while the boating costume of other gentlemen
shewed that they had for a while left aquatic pursuits, and had
strolled up from the river to indulge in "the sports of the fancy."
Although his new master invested several sixpences on ~Mop's~ behalf,
yet that ungrateful animal, being of a passive temperament of mind as
regarded rats, and a slow movement of body, in consequence of his
long hair impeding his progress, rather disgraced himself by allowing
the sport to be taken from his very teeth. But he still further
disgraced himself, when he had been taken back to Brazenface, by
howling all through the night in the cupboard where he had been
placed, thereby setting on Mr. Bouncer's two bull-terriers, Huz and
Buz, to echo the sounds with redoubled fury from their coal-hole
quarters; thus causing loss of sleep and a great outlay of Saxon
expletives to all the dwellers on the staircase. It was in vain that
our hero got out of bed and opened the cupboard-door, and said, "Poo
Mop! good dog, then!" it was in vain that Mr. Bouncer shied boots at
the coal-hole, and threatened Huz and Buz with loss of life; it was
in vain that the tenant of the attic, Mr. Sloe, who was a
reading-man, and sat up half the night, working for his degree, - it
was in vain that he opened his door, and mildly declared (over the
banisters), that it was impossible to get up Aristotle while such a
noise was being made; it was in vain that Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke,
whose rooms were on the other side of Verdant's, came and
administered to ~Mop~ severe punishment with a tandem-whip (it was a
favourite boast with Mr. Fosbrooke, that he could flick a fly from
his leader's ear); it was in vain to coax ~Mop~ with chicken-bones:
he would neither be bribed nor frightened, and after a deceitful lull
of a few minutes, just when every one was getting to sleep again, his
melancholy howl would be raised with renewed vigour, and Huz and Buz
would join for sympathy.
"I tell you what, Giglamps," said Mr. Bouncer the next morning;
"this game'll never do. Bark's a very good thing to take in its
proper way, when you're in want of it, and get it with port wine; but
when you get it by itself and in too large doses, it ain't pleasant,
you know. Huz and Buz are quiet enough, as long as they're let
alone; and I should advise you to keep ~Mop~ down at Spavin's
stables, or somewhere. But first, just let me give the brute the
hiding he deserves."
[92 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
Poor ~Mop~ underwent his punishment like a martyr; and in the course
of the day an arrangement was made with Mr. Spavin for ~Mop's~ board
and lodging at his stables. But when Verdant called there the next
day, for the purpose of taking him for a walk, there was no ~Mop~ to
be found; taking advantage of the carelessness of one of Mr. Spavin's
men, he had bolted through the open door, and made his escape. Mr.
Bouncer, at a subsequent period, declared that he met ~Mop~ in the
company of a well-known Regent-street fancier; but, however that may
be, ~Mop~ was lost to Mr. Verdant Green.