MR. VERDANT GREEN TERMINATES HIS EXISTENCE AS AN OXFORD
FRESHMAN.
"BEFORE I go home," said Mr. Verdant Green, as he expelled a volume
of smoke from his lips, - for he had overcome his first weakness, and
now "took his weed" regularly, - "before I go home, I must see what I
owe in the <VG114.JPG> place; for my father said he did not like for
me to run in debt, but wished me to settle my bills terminally."
"What, you're afraid of having what we call bill-ious fever, I
suppose, eh?" laughed Charles Larkyns. "All exploded
---
* When the degrees are conferred, the name of each person is read out
before he is presented to the Vice-Chancellor. The proctor then
walks once up and down the room, so that any person who objects to
the degree being granted may signify the same by pulling or
"plucking" the proctor's robes. This has been occasionally done by
tradesmen in order to obtain payment of their "little bills;" but
such a proceeding is very rare, and the proctor's promenade is
usually undisturbed.
+ The Rev. Philip Bliss, D.C.L., after holding the onerous post of
Registrar of the University for many years, and discharging its
duties in a way that called forth the unanimous thanks of the
University, resigned office in 1853.
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 115]
ideas, my dear fellow. They do very well in their way, but they
don't answer; don't pay, in fact; and the shopkeepers don't like it
either. By the way, I can shew you a great curiosity; - the
autograph of an Oxford tradesman, ~very rare~! I think of presenting
it to the Ashmolean." And Mr. Larkyns opened his writing-desk, and
took therefrom an Oxford pastrycook's bill, on which appeared the
magic word, "Received." <VG115.JPG>
"Now, there is one thing," continued Mr. Larkyns, "which you really
must do before you go down, and that is to see Blenheim. And the
best thing that you can do is to join Fosbrooke and Bouncer and me,
in a trap to Woodstock to-morrow. We'll go in good time, and make a
day of it."
Verdant readily agreed to make one of the party; and the next
morning, after a breakfast in Charles Larkyns' rooms, they made their
way to a side street leading out of Beaumont Street, where the
dog-cart was in waiting. As it was drawn by two horses, placed in
tandem fashion, Mr. Fosbrooke had an opportunity of displaying his
Jehu powers; which he did to great advantage, not allowing his leader
to run his nose into the cart, and being enabled to turn sharp
corners without chipping the bricks, or running the wheel up the bank.
They reached Woodstock after a very pleasant ride, and clattered up
its one long street to the principal hotel; but Mr. Fosbrooke whipped
into the yard to the left so rapidly, that our hero, who was not much
used to the back seat of a dog-cart, flew off by some means at a
tangent to the right, and was consequently degraded in the eyes of
the inhabitants.
[116 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
After ordering for dinner every thing that the house was enabled to
supply, they made their way in the first place (as it could only be
seen between 11 and 1) to Blenheim; the princely splendours of which
were not only costly in themselves, but, as our hero soon found,
costly also to the sight-seer. The doors in the ~suite~ of
apartments were all opposite to each other, so that, as a crimson
cord was passed from one to the other, the spectator was kept
entirely to the one side of the room, and merely a glance could be
obtained of the Raffaelle, the glorious Rubens's,* the Vandycks, and
the almost equally fine Sir Joshuas. But even the glance they had
was but a passing one, as the servant trotted them through the rooms
with the rapidity of locomotion and explanation of a Westminster
Abbey verger; and he made a fierce attack on Verdant, who had lagged
behind, and was short-sightedly peering at the celebrated "Charles
the First" of Vandyck, as though he had lingered in order to
surreptitiously appropriate some of the tables, couches, and other
trifling articles that ornamented the rooms. In this way they went
at railroad pace through the ~suite~ of rooms and the library, - where
the chief thing pointed out appeared to be a grease-mark on the floor
made by somebody at somebody else's wedding-breakfast, - and to the
chapel, where they admired the ingenuity of the sparrows and other
birds that built about Rysbrach's monumental mountain of marble to
the memory of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough; - and then to the
so-called "Titian room" (shade of mighty Titian, forgive the insult!)
where they saw the Loves of the Gods represented in the most
unloveable manner,+ and where a flunkey lounged lazily at the door,
and, in spite of Mr. Bouncer's expostulatory "chaff," demanded
half-a-crown for the sight.
Indeed, the sight-seeing at Blenheim seemed to be a system of
half-crowns. The first servant would take them a little way, and
then say, "I don't go any further, sir; half-a-crown!" and hand them
over to servant number two, who, after a short interval, would pass
them on (half-a-crown!) to the servant who shewed the chapel
(half-a-crown!), who would forward them on to the "Titian" Gallery
(half-a-crown!), who would hand them over to the flower-garden
(half-a-crown!),who would entrust them to the rose-garden
(half-a-crown!), who would give them up to another, who shewed parts
of the Park, and
---
* Dr Waagen says that the Rubens collection at Blenheim is only
surpassed by the royal galleries of Munich, Vienna, Madrid, and Paris.
+ The ladies alone would repel one by their gaunt ugliness, their
flesh being apparently composed of the article on which the pictures
are painted, leather. The only picture not by "Titian" in this room
is a Rubens, - "the Rape of Proserpine" - to see which is well worth
the half-crown ~charged~ for the sight of the others.
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 117]
the rest of it. Somewhat in this manner an Oxford party sees
Blenheim (the present of the nation); and Mr. Verdant Green found it
the most expensive show-place he had ever seen. Some of the Park,
however, was free (though they were two or three times ordered to
"get off the grass"); and they rambled about among the noble trees,
and admired the fine views of the Hall, and smoked their weeds, and
became very pathetic at Rosamond's Spring. They then came back into
Woodstock, which they found to be like all Oxford towns, only
<VG117.JPG> rather duller perhaps, the principal signs of life being
some fowls lazily pecking about in the grass-grown street, and two
cats sporting without fear of interruption from a dog, who was too
much overcome by the ~ennui~ of the place to interfere with them.
Mr. Bouncer then led the way to an inn, where the bar was presided
over by a young lady, "on whom," he said, "he was desperately sweet,"
and with whom he conversed in the most affable and brotherly manner,
and for whom also he had brought, as an appropriate present, a Book
of Comic Songs; "for," said the little gentleman, "hang it! she's a
girl of what you call ~mind~, you know! and she's heard of the opera,
and begun the piano, - though she don't get much time, you see, for it
in the bar, - and she sings regular slap-up, and no mistake!"
So they left this young lady drawing bitter beer for Mr.
[118 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
Bouncer, and otherwise attending to her adorer's wants, and
endeavoured to have a game of billiards on a wooden table that had no
cushions, with curious cues that had no leathers. Slightly failing
in this difficult game, they strolled about till dinner-time, when
Mr. Verdant Green became mysteriously lost for some time, and was
eventually found by Charles Larkyns and Mr. Fosbrooke in a glover's
shop, where he was sitting on a high stool, and basking in the
sunshiny smiles of two "neat little glovers." Our hero at first
feigned to be simply making purchases of Woodstock gloves and purses,
as ~souvenirs~ of his visit, and presents for his sisters; but in the
course of the evening, being greatly "chaffed" on the subject, he
began to exercise his imagination, and talk of the "great fun" he had
had; - though what particular fun there may be in smiling amiably
across a counter at a feminine shopkeeper who is selling you gloves,
it is hard to say: perhaps Dr. Sterne could help us to an answer.
They spent altogether a very lively day; and after a rather
protracted sitting over their wine, they returned to Oxford with
great hilarity, Mr. Bouncer's post-horn coming out with great effect
in the stillness of the moonlight night. Unfortunately their mirth
was somewhat checked when they had got as far as Peyman's Gate; for
the proctor, with mistaken kindness, had taken the trouble to meet
them there, lest they should escape him by entering Oxford by any
devious way; and the marshal and the bull-dogs were at the leader's
head just as Mr. Fosbrooke was triumphantly guiding them through the
turnpike. Verdant gave up his name and that of his college with a
thrill of terror, and nearly fell off the drag from fright, when he
was told to call upon the proctor the next morning.
"Keep your pecker up, old feller!" said Mr. Bouncer, in an
encouraging tone, as they drove into Oxford, "and don't be down in
the mouth about a dirty trick like this. He won't hurt you much,
Giglamps! Gate and chapel you; or give you some old Greek party to
write out; or send you down to your mammy for a twelve-month; or
some little trifle of that sort. I only wish the beggar would come
up our staircase! if Huz, and Buz his brother, didn't do their duty
by him, it would be doosid odd. Now, don't you go and get bad
dreams, Giglamps! because it don't pay; and you'll soon get used to
these sort of things; and what's the odds, as long as you're happy? I
like to take things coolly, I do."
To judge from Mr. Bouncer's serenity, and the far-from-nervous manner
in which he "sounded his octaves," ~he~ at least appeared to be
thoroughly used to "that sort of thing," and doubtless slept as
tranquilly as though nothing wrong had occurred. But it was far
different with our hero, who passed
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 119]
a sleepless night of terror as to his probable fate on the morrow.
And when the morrow came, and he found himself in the dreaded
presence of the constituted authority, armed with all the power of
the law, he was so overcome, that he fell on his knees and made an
abject spectacle of himself, imploring that he might not be expelled,
and bring down his father's grey hairs in the usually quoted manner.
To his immense relief, however, he was treated in a more lenient way;
and as the term had nearly expired, his punishment could not be of
long duration; and as for the impositions, why, as Mr. Bouncer said,
"Ain't there coves to ~barber~ise 'em* for you, Giglamps?"
Thus our freshman gained experience daily; so that by <VG119.JPG> the
end of the term, he found that short as the time had been, it had
been long enough for him to learn what Oxford life was like, and that
there was in it a great deal to be copied, as well as some things to
be shunned. The freshness he had so freely shown on entering Oxford
had gradually yielded as the term went on; and, when he had run
halloing the Brazenface boat all the way up from Iffley, and had seen
Mr. Blades realize his most sanguine dreams as to "the head of the
river;" and when, from the gallery of the theatre, he had taken part
in the licensed saturnalia of the Commemoration, and had cheered for
the ladies in pink and blue, and even given "one more" for the very
proctor who had so lately interfered with his liberties; and when he
had gone to a farewell pass-party (which Charles Larkyns did ~not~
give), and had assisted in the other festivities that usually mark
the end of the academical year, - Mr. Verdant Green found himself to
be possessed of a considerable acquisition of knowledge of a most
miscellaneous character; and on the authority, and in the figurative
eastern language of Mr. Bouncer, "he was sharpened up no end, by
being well rubbed against university bricks. So, good by, old
feller!" said the little gentleman, with a kind remembrance of
imaginary
---
* Impositions are often performed by deputy.
-=-
[120 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
individuals, "and give my love to Sairey and the little uns." And Mr.
Bouncer "went the complete unicorn," for the last time in that term,
by extemporising a farewell solo to Verdant, which was of such an
agonizing character of execution, that Huz, and Buz his brother,
lifted up their noses and howled. <VG120-1.JPG>
"Which they're the very moral of Christyuns, sir!" observed Mrs.
Tester, who was dabbing her curtseys in thankfulness for the large
amount with which our hero had "tipped" her. "And has ears for
moosic, sir. With grateful thanks to you, sir, for the same. And
it's obleeged I feel in my art. Which it reelly were like what my
own son would do, sir. As was found in drink for his rewing. And
were took to the West Injies for a sojer. Which he were - ugh! oh,
oh! Which you be'old me a hafflicted martyr to these spazzums, sir.
And <VG120-2.JPG> how I am to get through them doorin' the veecation.
Without a havin' 'em eased by a-goin' to your cupboard, sir. For
just three spots o' brandy on a lump o' sugar, sir. Is a summut as
I'm afeered to think on. Oh! ugh!" Upon which Mrs. Tester's grief
and spasms so completely overcame her, that our hero presented her
with an extra half-sovereign, wherewith to purchase the medicine that
was so peculiarly adapted to her complaint. Mr. Robert Filcher was
also "tipped" in the same liberal manner; and our hero completed his
first term's residence in Brazenface by establishing himself as a
decided favourite. Among those who seemed disposed to join in this
opinion was
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 121]
the Jehu of the Warwickshire coach, who expressed his conviction to
our delighted hero, that "he wos a young gent as had much himproved
hisself since he tooled him up to the 'Varsity with his guvnor." To
fully deserve which high opinion, Mr. Verdant Green tipped for the
box-seat, smoked <VG121.JPG> more than was good for him, and besides
finding the coachman in weeds, drank with him at every "change" on
the road.
The carriage met him at the appointed place, and his luggage (no
longer encased in canvas, after the manner of females) was soon
transferred to it; and away went our hero to the Manor Green, where
he was received with the greatest demonstrations of delight.
Restored to the bosom of his family, our hero was converted into a
kind of domestic idol; while it was proposed by Miss Mary Green,
seconded by Miss Fanny, and carried by unanimous acclamation, that
Mr. Verdant Green's University career had greatly enhanced his
attractions.
The opinion of the drawing-room was echoed from the servants'-hall,
the ladies' maid in particular being heard freely to declare, that
"Oxford College had made quite a man of Master Verdant!"
As the little circumstance on which she probably grounded her
encomium had fallen under the notice of Miss Virginia Verdant, it may
have accounted for that most correct-minded lady being more reserved
in expressing her opinion of her nephew's improvement than were the
rest of the family; but she nevertheless thought a great deal on the
subject.
[122 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"Well, Verdant!" said Mr. Green, after hearing divers anecdotes of
his son's college-life, carefully prepared for home-consumption; "now
tell us what you've learnt in Oxford."
"Why," replied our hero, as he reflected on his freshman's career, "I
have learnt to think for myself, and not to believe every thing that I
hear; and I think I could fight my way in the world; and I can chaff
a cad -"
"Chaff a cad! oh!" groaned Miss Virginia to herself, thinking it was
something extremely dreadful.
"And I have learnt to row - at least, not quite; but I can smoke a
weed - a cigar, you know. I've learnt that."
"Oh, Verdant, you naughty boy!" said Mrs. Green, with maternal
fondness. "I was sadly afraid that Charles Larkyns would teach you
all his wicked school habits!"
"Why, mama," said Mary, who was sitting on a footstool at her
brother's knee, and spoke up in defence of his college friend; "why,
mama, all gentlemen smoke; and of course Mr. Charles Larkyns and
Verdant must do as others do. But I dare say, Verdant, he taught you
more useful things than that, did he not?"
"Oh, yes," replied Verdant; "he taught me to grill a devil."
"Grill a devil!" groaned Miss Virginia. "Infatuated young man!"
"And to make shandy-gaff and sherry-cobbler, and brew bishop and
egg-flip: oh, it's capital! I'll teach you how to make <VG122.JPG>
it; and we'll have some to-night!"
And thus the young gentleman astonished his family with the extent of
his learning, and proved how a youth of ordinary natural attainments
may acquire other knowledge in his University career than what simply
pertains to classical literature.
And so much experience had our hero gained during his freshman's
term, that when the pleasures of the Long Vacation were at an end,
and he had returned to Brazenface, with his firm and fast friend
Charles Larkyns, he felt himself entitled to assume a patronizing air
to the freshmen who then entered, and even sought to impose upon
their credulity in ways which his own personal experience suggested.
It was clear that Mr. Verdant Green had made his farewell bow as an
Oxford Freshman.
[123 ]
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
MR. VERDANT GREEN RECOMMENCES HIS EXISTENCE
AS AN OXFORD UNDERGRADUATE.
<VG123.JPG> THE intelligent reader - which epithet I take to be a
synonym for every one who has perused the first part of the
Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green, - will remember the statement, that
the hero of the narrative "had gained so much experience during his
Freshman's term, that, when the pleasures of the Long Vacation were
at an end, and he had returned to Brazenface with his firm and fast
friend Charles Larkyns, he felt himself entitled to assume a
patronizing air to the Freshmen, who then entered, and even sought to
impose upon their credulity in ways which his own personal experience
suggested." And the intelligent reader will further call to mind the
fact that the first part of these memoirs concluded with the words
-"it was clear that Mr. Verdant Green had made his farewell bow as an
Oxford Freshman."
But, although Mr. Verdant Green had of necessity ceased to be "a
Freshman" as soon as he had entered upon his second term of residence,
- the name being given to students in their first term only, - yet
this necessity, which, as we all know, ~non habet leges~, will
occasionally prove its rule by an exception; and if Mr. Verdant Green
was no longer a freshman in name, he still continued to be one by
nature. And the intelligent reader will perceive when he comes to
study these veracious memoirs, that, although their hero will no
longer display those peculiarly virulent symptoms of freshness, which
drew towards him so much friendly sympathy during the earlier part of
his University career, yet that he will still, by his innocent simpli-
[124 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
city and credulity, occasionally evidence the truth of the Horatian
maxim,-
"Quo semel est imbuta recens, servabit odorem
Testa diu;"*
which, when ~Smart~-ly translated, means, "A cask will long preserve
the flavour, with which, when new, it was once impregnated;" and
which, when rendered in the Saxon vulgate, signifieth, "What is bred
in the bone will come out in the flesh."
It would, indeed, take more than a Freshman's term, - a two months'
residence in Oxford, - to remove the simple gaucheries of the country
Squire's hobbodehoy, and convert the girlish youth, the pupil of that
Nestor of Spinsters, Miss Virginia Verdant, into the MAN whose school
was the University, whose Alma Mater was Oxonia herself. We do not
cut our wise teeth in a day; some people, indeed, are so unfortunate
as never to cut them at all; at the best, two months is but a brief
space in which to get through this sapient teething operation, a
short time in which to graft our cutting on the tree of Wisdom, more
especially when the tender plant happens to be a Verdant Green. The
golden age is past when the full-formed goddess of Wisdom sprang from
the brain of Jove complete in all her parts. If our Vulcans
now-a-days were to trepan the heads of our Jupiters, they would find
nothing in them! In these degenerate times it will take more than one
splitting headache to produce ~our~ wisdom.
So it was with our hero. The splitting headache, for example, which
had wound up the pleasures of Mr. Small's "quiet party," had taught
him that the good things of this life were not given to be abused,
and that he could not exceed the bounds of temperance and moderation
without being made to pay the penalty of the trespass. It had taught
him that kind of wisdom which even "makes fools wise"; for it had
taught him Experience. And yet, it was but a portion of that lesson
of Experience which it is sometimes so hard to learn, but which, when
once got by heart, is like the catechism of our early days, - it is
never forgotten, - it directs us, it warns us, it advises us; it not
only adorns the tale of our life, but it points the moral which may
bring that tale to a happy and peaceful end.
Experience! Experience! What will it not do? It is a staff which will
help us on when we are jostled by the designing crowds of our Vanity
Fair. It is a telescope that will reveal to us the dark spots on
what seemed to be a fair face. It is a finger-post to show us
whither the crooked paths of worldly
---
* Horace, Ep. Lib. I. ii., 69.
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 125]
ways will lead us. It is a scar that tells of the wound which the
soldier has received in the battle of life. It is a lighthouse that
warns us off those hidden rocks and quicksands where the wrecks of
long past joys that once smiled so fairly, and were loved so dearly,
now lie buried in all their ghastliness, stripped of grace and
beauty, things to shudder at and dread. Experience! Why, even Alma
Mater's doctors prescribe it to be taken in the largest quantities!
"Experientia - ~dose it~!" they say: and very largely some of us have
to pay for the dose. But the dose does us good; and (for it is an
allopathic remedy), the greater the dose, the greater is the benefit
to be derived.
The two months' allopathic dose of Experience, which had been
administered to Mr. Verdant Green, chiefly through the agency of
those skilful professors, Messrs. Larkyns, Fosbrooke, Smalls, and
Bouncer, had been so far beneficial to him, that, in the figurative
Eastern language of the last-named gentleman, he had not only been
"sharpened up no end by being well rubbed against University bricks,"
but he had, moreover, "become so considerably wide-awake, that he
would very soon be able to take the shine out of the old original
Weazel, whom the pages of History had recorded as never having been
discovered in a state of somnolence."
Now, as Mr. Bouncer was a gentleman of considerable experience and
was, too, (although addicted to expressions not to be found in "the
Polite Preceptor,"), quite free from the vulgar habit of personal
flattery, - or, as he thought fit to express it, in words which would
have taken away my Lord Chesterfield's appetite, "buttering a party
to his face in the cheekiest manner," - we may fairly presume, on this
strong evidence, that Mr. Verdant Green had really gained a
considerable amount of experience during his freshman's term,
although there were still left in his character and conduct many
marks of viridity which
"Time's effacing fingers,"
assisted by Mr. Bouncer's instructions, would gradually remove.
However, Mr. Verdant Green had, at any rate, ceased to be "a
Freshman" in name; and had received that University promotion, which
Mr. Charles Larkyns commemorated by the following ~affiche~, which
our hero, on his return from his first morning chapel in the
Michaelmas term, found in a conspicuous position on his oak,
COMMISSION SIGNED BY THE VICE-CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF OXFORD.
MR. VERDANT GREEN to be an Oxford Undergraduate, ~vice~ Oxford
Freshman, SOLD out.
It is generally found to be the case, that the youthful Undergraduate
first seeks to prove he is no longer a "Freshman," by endeavouring to
impose on the credulity of those young
[126 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
gentlemen who come up as freshmen in his second term. And, in this,
there is an analogy between the biped and the quadruped; for, the
wild, gambolling, schoolboy elephant, when he has been brought into a
new circle, and has been trained to new habits, will take pleasure in
ensnaring and deluding his late companions in play.
The "sells" by which our hero had been "sold out" as a Freshman, now
formed a stock in trade for the Undergraduate, which his experience
enabled him to dispose of (with considerable interest) to the most
credulous members of the generations of Freshmen who came up after
him. Perhaps no Freshman had ever gone through a more severe course
of hoaxing - to survive it - than Mr. Verdant Green; and yet, by a
system of retaliation, only paralleled by the quadrupedal case of the
before-mentioned elephant, and the biped-beadle case of the
illustrious Mr. Bumble, who after having his own ears boxed by the
late Mrs. Corney, relieved his feelings by boxing the ears of the
small boy who opened the gate for him, - our hero took the greatest
delight in seeking every opportunity to play off upon a Freshman some
one of those numerous hoaxes which had been so successfully practised
on himself. And while, in referring to the early part of his
University career, he omitted all mention of such anecdotes as
displayed his own personal credulity in the strongest light - which
anecdotes the faithful historian has thought fit to record, - he,
nevertheless, dwelt with extreme pleasure on the reminiscences of a
few isolated facts, in which he himself appeared in the character of
the hoaxer.
These facts, when neatly garnished with a little fiction, made very
palatable dishes for University entertainment, and were served up by
our hero, when he went "down into the country," to select parties of
relatives and friends (N.B. - Females preferred). On such occasions,
the following hoax formed Mr. Verdant Green's ~piece de resistance~.
CHAPTER II.
MR. VERDANT GREEN DOES AS HE HAS BEEN DONE BY.
ONE morning, Mr. Verdant Green and Mr. Bouncer were lounging in the
venerable gateway of Brazenface. The former gentleman, being of an
amiable, tame-rabbit-keeping disposition, was making himself very
happy by whistling popular airs to the Porter's pet bullfinch, who
was laboriously engaged on a small tread-mill, winding up his private
supply of water. Mr. Bouncer, being of a more volatile temperament,
was amusing himself by asking the Porter's opinion
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 127]
on the foreign policy of Great Britain, and by making very audible
remarks on the passers-by. His attention was at length riveted by the
appearance on the other side of the street, of a modest-looking
young gentleman, who appeared to be so ill at ease in his frock-coat
and "stick-up" collars, as to lead to the strong presumption that he
wore those articles of manly dress for the first time.
"I'll bet you a bottle of blacking, Giglamps," said little Mr.
Bouncer, as he directed our hero's attention to the stranger, "that
this respected party is an intending Freshman. Look at his customary
suits of solemn black, as Othello, or Hamlet, or some other swell,
says in Shakespeare. And, besides his black go-to-meeting bags,
please to observe," continued the little gentleman, in the tone of a
wax-work showman; "please to ~h~observe the pecooliarity hof the
hair-chain, likewise the straps of the period. Look! he's coming
this way. Giglamps, I vote we take a rise out of the youth. Hem!
Good morning! Can we have the pleasure of assisting you in anything?"
"Yes, sir! thank you, sir," replied the youthful stranger, who was
flushing like a girl up to the very roots of his curly, auburn hair;
"perhaps, sir, you can direct me to Brazenface College, sir?"
"Well, sir! it's not at all improbable, sir, but what I could, sir;"
replied Mr. Bouncer; "but, perhaps, sir, you'll first favour me with
your name, and your business there, sir."
"Certainly, sir!" rejoined the stranger; and, while he fumbled at his
card-case, the experienced Mr. Bouncer whispered to our hero, "Told
you he was a sucking Freshman, Giglamps! He has got a bran new
card-case, and says 'sir' at the sight of the academicals." The card
handed to Mr. Bouncer, bore the name of "MR. JAMES PUCKER;" and, in
smaller characters in the corner of the card, were the words,
"~Brazenface College, Oxford~."
"I came, sir," said the blushing Mr. Pucker, "to enter for my
matriculation examination, and I wished to see the gentleman who will
have to examine me, sir."
"The doose you do!" said Mr. Bouncer sternly; "then young man, allow
me to say, that you've regularly been and gone and done it, and put
your foot in it most completely."
"How-ow-ow, how, sir?" stammered the dupe.
"How?" replied Mr. Bouncer, still more sternly; "do you mean to
brazen out your offence by asking how? What ~could~ have induced you,
sir, to have had printed on this card the name of this College, when
you've not a prospect of belonging to it - it may be for years, it
may be for never, as the bard says. You've committed a most grievous
offence against the University statutes, young gentleman; and so this
gentleman here -
[128 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
Mr. Pluckem, the junior examiner - will tell you!" and with that,
little Mr. Bouncer nudged Mr. Verdant Green, who took his cue with
astonishing aptitude, and glared through his glasses at the trembling
Mr. Pucker, who stood blushing, and bowing, and heartily repenting
that his school-boy vanity had led him to invest four-and-sixpence in
"100 cards, and plate, engraved with name and address."
"Put the cards in your pocket, sir, and don't let me see them again!"
said our hero in his newly-confirmed title of the junior examiner;
quite rejoiced at the opportunity afforded him of proving to his
friend that ~he~ was no longer a Freshman.
"He forgives you for the sake of your family, young man!" said Mr.
Bouncer with pathos; "you've come to the right shop, for ~this~ is
Brazenface; and you've come just at the right time, for here is the
gentleman who will assist Mr. Pluckem in examining you;" and Mr.
Bouncer pointed to Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke, who was coming up the
street on his way from the Schools, where he was making a very
laudable (but as it proved, futile) endeavour "to get through his
smalls," or, in other words, to pass his Little-go examination. The
hoax which had been suggested to the ingenious mind of Mr. Bouncer,
was based upon the fact of Mr. Fosbrooke's being properly got-up for
his sacrifice in a white tie, and a pair of very small bands - the
two articles, which, with the usual academicals, form the costume
demanded by Alma Mater of all her children when they take their
places in her Schools. And, as Mr. Fosbrooke was far too politic a
gentleman to irritate the Examiners by appearing in a "loud" or
sporting costume, he had carried out the idea of clerical character
suggested by the bands and choker, by a quiet, gentlemanly suit of
black, which, he had fondly hoped, would have softened his Examiners'
manners, and not permitted them to be brutal.
Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke, therefore, to the unsophisticated eye of
the blushing Mr. Pucker, presented a very fine specimen of the
Examining Tutor; and this impression on Mr. Pucker's mind was
heightened by Mr. Fosbrooke, after a few minutes' private
conversation with the other two gentlemen, turning to him, and
saying, "It will be extremely inconvenient to me to examine you now;
but as you probably wish to return home as soon as possible, I will
endeavour to conclude the business at once - this gentleman, Mr.
Pluckem," pointing to our hero, "having kindly promised to assist me.
Mr. Bouncer, will you have the goodness to follow with the young
gentleman to my rooms?"
Leaving Mr. Pucker to express his thanks for this great kindness, and
Mr. Bouncer to plunge him into the depths of trepidation by telling
him terrible ~stories~ of the Examiner's
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 129]
fondness for rejecting the candidates for examination, Mr. Fosbrooke
and our hero ascended to the rooms of the former, where they hastily
cleared away cigar-boxes and pipes, turned certain French pictures
with their faces to the wall, and covered over with an outspread
~Times~ a regiment of porter and spirit bottles which had just been
smuggled in, and were drawn up rank-and-file on the sofa. Having
made this preparation, and furnished the table with pens, ink, and
scribble-paper, Mr. Bouncer and the victim were admitted. <VG129.JPG>
"Take a seat, sir," said Mr. Fosbrooke, gravely; and Mr. Pucker put
his hat on the ground, and sat down at the table in a state of
blushing nervousness. "Have you been at a public school?"
"Yes, sir," stammered the victim; "a very public one, sir; it was a
boarding-school, sir; forty boarders, and thirty day-boys, sir; I was
a day-boy, sir, and in the first class."
"First class of an uncommon slow train!" muttered Mr. Bouncer.
"And are you going back to the boarding-school?" asked Mr. Verdant
Green, with the air of an assistant judge.
"No sir," replied Mr. Pucker, "I have just done with it; quite done
with school, sir, this last half; and papa is going to put me to read
with a clergyman until it is time for me to come to college."
"Refreshing innocence!" murmured Mr. Bouncer; while Mr. Fosbrooke and
our hero conferred together, and hastily wrote on two sheets of the
scribble-paper.
"Now, sir," said Mr. Fosbrooke to the victim, after a paper had been
completed, "let us see what your Latin writing is
[130 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
like. Have the goodness to turn what I have written into Latin; and
be very careful, sir," added Mr. Fosbrooke, sternly, "be very careful
that it is Cicero's Latin, sir!" and he handed Mr. Pucker a sheet of
paper, on which he had scribbled the following:
"TO BE TRANSLATED INTO PROSE-Y LATIN, IN THE MANNER
OF CICERO'S ORATIONS AFTER DINNER.
"If, therefore, any on your bench, my luds, or in this
assembly, should entertain an opinion that the proximate parts of a
mellifluous mind are for ever conjoined and unconnected, I submit to
you, my luds, that it will of necessity follow, that such clandestine
conduct being a mere nothing, - or, in the noble language of our
philosophers, bosh, - every individual act of overt misunderstanding
will bring interminable limits to the empiricism of thought, and will
rebound in the very lowest degree to the credit of the malefactor."
"TO BE TURNED INTO LATIN AFTER THE MANNER OF THE ANIMALS
OF TACITUS.
"She went into the garden to cut a cabbage to make an
apple-pie. Just then, a great she-bear coming down the street, poked
its nose into the shop-window. 'What! no soap?' So he died, and she
(very imprudently) married the barber. And there were present at the
wedding the Joblillies, and the Piccannies, and the Gobelites, and
the great Panjandrum himself, with the little button on top. So they
all set to playing Catch-who-catch-can, till the gunpowder ran out at
the heels of their boots."
It was well for the purposes of the hoaxers that Mr. Pucker's
trepidation prevented him from making a calm perusal of the paper;
and he was nervously doing his best to turn the nonsensical English
word by word into equally nonsensical Latin, when his limited powers
of Latin writing were brought to a full stop by the untranslateable
word "Bosh". As he could make nothing of this, he wiped the
perspiration from his forehead, and gazed appealingly at the
benignant features of Mr. Verdant Green. The appealing gaze was
answered by our hero ordering Mr. Pucker to hand in his paper for
examination, and to endeavour to answer the questions which he and
his brother examiner had been writing down for him.
Mr. Pucker took the two papers of questions, and read as follows:
"HISTORY.
"1. Draw a historical parallel (after the manner of Plutarch)
between Hannibal and Annie Laurie.
"2. What internal evidence does the Odyssey afford, that Homer
sold his Trojan war-ballads at three yards an obolus?
"3. Show the strong presumption there is, that Nox was the god of
battles.
"4. State reasons for presuming that the practice of lithography
may be traced back to the time of Perseus and the Gorgon's head.
"5. In what way were the shades on the banks of the Styx supplied
with spirits?
"6. Show the probability of the College Hornpipe having been used
by the students of the Academia; and give passages from Thucydides
and Tennyson in support of your answer.
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 131]
"7. Give a brief account of the Roman Emperors who visited the
United States, and state what they did there.
"8. Show from the redundancy of the word {gas} in Sophocles, that
gas must have been used by the Athenians; also state, if the
expression {oi barbaroi} would seem to signify that they were close
shavers.
"9. Show from the words 'Hoc erat in votis' (Sat. VI., Lib. II.,)
that Horace's favourite wine was hock, and that he meant to say 'he
always voted for hock.'
"10. Draw a parallel between the Children in the Wood and Achilles
in the Styx.
"11. When it is stated that Ariadne, being deserted by Theseus,
fell in love with Bacchus, is it the poetical way of asserting that
she took to drinking to drown her grief?
"12. Name the ~prima donnas~ who have appeared in the operas of
Virgil and Horace since the 'Virgilii Opera,' and 'Horatii Opera'
were composed."
"EUCLID, ARITHMETIC, and ALGEBRA.
"1. 'The extremities of a line are points.' Prove this by the
rule of railways.
"2. Show the fallacy of defining an angle, as 'a worm at one end
and a fool at the other.'
"3. If one side of a triangle be produced, what is there to
prevent the other two sides from also being brought forward?
"4. Let A and B be squares having their respective boundaries in
E and W ends, and let C and D be circles moving in them; the circle D
will be superior to the circle C.
"5. In equal circles, equal figures from various squares will
stand upon the same footing.
"6. If two parts of a circle fall out, the one part will cut the
other.
"7. Describe a square which shall be larger than Belgrave Square.
"8. If the gnomon of a sun-dial be divided into two equal, and also
into two unequal parts, what would be its value?
"9. Describe a perpendicular triangle having the squares of the
semi-circle equal to half the extremity between the points of
section.
"10. If an Austrian florin is worth 5.61 francs, what will be the
value of Pennsylvanian bonds? Prove by rule-of-three inverse.
"11. If seven horses eat twenty-five acres of grass in three days,
what will be their condition on the fourth day? Prove by practice.
"12. If a coach-wheel, 6 5/30 in diameter and 5 9/47 in
circumference, makes 240 4/19 revolutions in a second, how many men
will it take to do the same piece of work in ten days?
"13. Find the greatest common measure of a quart bottle of Oxford
port.
"14. Find the value of a 'bob,' a 'tanner,' 'a joey,' and a
'tizzy.'
"15. Explain the common denominators 'brick,' 'trump,' 'spoon,'
'muff,' and state what was the greatest common denominator in the
last term.
"16. Reduce two academical years to their lowest terms.
"17. Reduce a Christ Church tuft to the level of a Teddy Hall man.
"18. If a freshman ~A~ have any mouth ~x~, and a bottle of wine
~y~, show how many applications of ~x~ to ~y~ will place ~y~+~y~
before ~A~."
Mr. Pucker did not know what to make of such extraordinary and
unexpected questions. He blushed, attempted to write, fingered his
curls, tried to collect his faculties, and then appeared to give
himself over to despair; whereupon little Mr. Bouncer was seized with
an immoderate fit of coughing which had well nigh brought the farce
to its ~denouement~.
[132 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"I'm afraid, young gentleman," said Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke, as he
carelessly settled his white tie and bands, "I am afraid, Mr. Pucker,
that your learning is not yet up to the Brazenface standard. We are
particularly cautious about admitting any gentleman whose
acquirements are not of the highest order. But we will be as lenient
to you as we are able, and give you one more chance to retrieve
yourself. We will try a little ~viva voce~, Mr. Pucker. Perhaps,
sir, you will favour me with your opinions on the Fourth Punic War,
and will also give me a slight sketch of the constitution of ancient
Heliopolis."
Mr. Pucker waxed, if possible, redder and hotter than before[,] he
gasped like a fish out of water; and, like Dryden's prince, "unable
to conceal his pain," he
"Sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again."
But all was to no purpose: he was unable to frame an answer to Mr.
Fosbrooke's questions.
"Ah, sir," continued his tormentor, "I see that you will not do for
us yet awhile, and I am therefore under the painful necessity of
rejecting you. I should advise you, sir, to read hard for another
twelvemonths, and endeavour to master those subjects in which you
have now failed. For, a young man, Mr. Pucker, who knows nothing
about the Fourth Punic War, and the constitution of ancient
Heliopolis, is quite unfit to be enrolled among the members of such a
learned college as Brazenface. Mr. Pluckem quite coincides with me
in this decision." (Here Mr. Verdant Green gave a Burleigh nod.)
"We feel very sorry for you, Mr. Pucker, and also for your
unfortunate family; but we recommend you to add to your present stock
of knowledge, and to keep those visiting-cards for another
twelvemonth." And Mr. Fosbrooke and our hero - disregarding poor Mr.
Pucker's entreaties that they would consider his pa and ma, and would
please to matriculate him this once, and he would read very hard,
indeed he would - turned to Mr. Bouncer and gave some private
instructions, which caused that gentleman immediately to vanish, and
seek out Mr. Robert Filcher.
Five minutes after, that excellent Scout met the dejected Mr. Pucker
as he was crossing the Quad on his way from Mr. Fosbrooke's rooms.
"Beg your pardon, sir," said Mr. Filcher, touching his forehead; for,
as Mr. Filcher, after the manner of his tribe, never was seen in a
head-covering, he was unable to raise his hat or cap; "beg your
pardon, sir! but was you a lookin' for the party as examines the
young gents for their matrickylation?"
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 133]
"Eh?-no! I have just come from him," replied Mr. Pucker, dolefully.
"Beg your pardon, sir," remarked Mr. Filcher, "but his rooms ain't
that way at all. Mr. Slowcoach, as is the party you ~ought~ to have
seed, has ~his~ rooms quite in a hopposite direction, sir; and he's
the honly party as examines the matrickylatin' gents."
"But I ~have~ been examined," observed Mr. Pucker, with the
<VG133.JPG> air of a plucked man; "and I am sorry to say that I was
rejected, and" -
"I dessay, sir," interrupted Mr. Filcher; "but I think it's a 'oax,
sir!"
"A what?" stammered Mr. Pucker.
"A 'oax - a sell;" replied the Scout confidentially. "You see, sir,
I think some of the gents have been makin' a little game of you, sir;
they often does with fresh parties like you, sir, that seem fresh and
hinnocent like; and I dessay they've been makin' believe to examine
you, sir, and a pretendin' that you wasn't clever enough. But they
don't mean no harm, sir; it's only their play, bless you!"
"Then," said Mr. Pucker, whose countenance had been gradually
clearing with every word the Scout spoke; "then I'm not really
rejected, but have still a chance of passing my examination?"
"Percisely so, sir," replied Mr. Filcher; "and - hexcuse me, sir, for a
hintin' of it to you, - but, if you would let me adwise you, sir, you
wouldn't go for to mention anythin' about the 'oax to Mr. Slowcoach;
~he~ wouldn't be pleased, sir, and ~you'd~ only get laughed at. If
you like to go to him now, sir, I know he's in his rooms, and I'll
show you the way there with the greatest of pleasure."
Mr. Pucker, immensely relieved in mind, gladly put himself under the
Scout's guidance, and was admitted into the presence of Mr.
Slowcoach. In twenty minutes after this he issued from the examining
tutor's rooms with a joyful countenance, and again encountered Mr.
Robert Filcher.
"Hope you've done the job this time, sir," said the Scout.
[134 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"Yes," replied the radiant Mr. Pucker; "and at two o'clock I am to
see the Vice-Chancellor; and I shall be able to come to college this
time next year."
"Werry glad of it, indeed, sir!" observed Mr. Filcher, with genuine
emotion, and an eye to future perquisites; "and I suppose, sir, you
didn't say a word about the 'oax?"
"Not a word!" replied Mr. Pucker.
"Then, sir," said Mr. Filcher, with enthusiasm, "hexcuse me, but
you're a trump, sir! And Mr. Fosbrooke's compliments to you, sir, and
he'll be 'appy if you'll come up into his rooms, and take a glass of
wine after the fatigues of the examination. And, - hexcuse me again,
sir, for a hintin' of it to you, but of course you can't be aweer of
the customs of the place, unless somebody tells you on 'em, - I shall
be werry glad to drink your werry good health, sir."
Need it be stated that the blushing Mr. Pucker, delirious with joy at
the sudden change in the state of affairs, and the delightful
prospect of being a member of the University, not only tipped Mr.
Filcher a five-shilling piece, but also paid a second visit to Mr.
Fosbrooke's rooms, where he found that gentleman in his usual
costume, and by him was introduced to the Mr. Pluckem, who now bore
the name of Mr. Verdant Green? Need it be stated that the nervous
Mr. Pucker blushed and laughed, and laughed and blushed, while his
two pseudo-examiners took wine with him in the most friendly manner;
Mr. Bouncer pronouncing him to be "an out-and-outer, and no mistake!"
And need it be stated that, after this undergraduate display of
hoaxing, Mr. Verdant Green would feel exceedingly offended were he
still to be called "an Oxford Freshman?"
CHAPTER III.
MR. VERDANT GREEN ENDEAVOURS TO KEEP HIS SPIRITS UP
BY POURING SPIRITS DOWN.
IT was the evening of the fifth of November; the day which the
Protestant youth of England dedicate to the memory of that martyr of
gunpowder, the firework Faux, and which the youth of Oxford, by a
three months' anticipation of the calendar, devote to the celebration
of those scholastic sports for which the day of St. Scholastica the
Virgin was once so famous.*
---
* Town and Gown disturbances are of considerable antiquity. Fuller
and Matthew Paris give accounts of some which occurred as early as
the year 1238. These disputes not unfrequently terminated fatally to
some of the combatants. One of the most serious Town and Gown rows
on record took place on the day of St. Scholastica the Virgin,
February 10th, 1345, when several lives were lost on either side.
The University was at
[footnote continues next page]
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 135]
Rumour with its hundred tongues had spread far and wide the news,
that a more than ordinary demonstration would be made of the might of
Town, and that this demonstration would be met by a corresponding
increase of prowess on the side of Gown. It was darkly whispered
that the purlieus of Jericho would send forth champions to the fight.
It was mentioned that the Parish of St. Thomas would be powerfully
represented by its Bargee lodgers. It was confidently reported that
St. Aldate's** would come forth in all its olden strength. It was
told as a fact that St. Clement's had departed from the spirit of
clemency, and was up in arms. From an early hour of the evening, the
Townsmen had gathered in threatening groups; and their determined
aspect, and words of chaff, had told of the coming storm. It was to
be a tremendous Town and Gown!
The Poet has forcibly observed-
"Strange that there should such diff'rence be,
'Twixt Tweedledum and Tweedledee!"
But the difference between Town and Gown, is not to be classed with
the Tweedledum and Tweedledee difference. It is something more than
a mere difference of two letters. The lettered Gown lorded it over
the unlettered Town: the plebeian Town was perpetually snubbed by the
aristocratic Gown. If Gown even wished to associate with Town, he
could only do so under certain restrictions imposed by the statutes;
and Town was thus made to feel exceedingly honoured by the gracious
condescension of Gown. But Town, moreover, maintained its existence,
that it might contribute to the pleasure and amusements, the needs
and necessities, of Gown. And very expensively was Town occasionally
made to pay for its existence; so expensively indeed, that if it had
not
---
[cont.] that time in the Lincoln diocese; and Grostete, the Bishop,
placed the townspeople under an interdict, from which they were not
released till 1357, and then only on condition that the mayor and
sixty of the chief burgesses should, on every anniversary of the day
of St. Scholastica, attend St. Mary's Church and offer up mass for
the souls of the slain scholars; and should also individually present
an offering of one penny at the high altar. They, moreover, paid a
yearly fine of 100 marks to the University, with the penalty of an
additional fine of the same sum for every omission in attending at
St. Mary's. This continued up to the time of the Reformation, when
it gradually fell into abeyance. In the fifteenth year of Elizabeth,
however, the University asserted their claim to all arrears. The
matter being brought to trial, it was decided that the town should
continue the annual fine and penance, though the arrears were
forgiven. The fine was yearly paid on the 10th of February up to our
own time: the mayor and chief burgesses attended at St. Mary's, and
made the offering at the conclusion of the litany, which, on that
occasion, was read from the altar. This was at length put an end to
by Convocation in the year 1825.
-=-
---
** Corrupted by Oxford pronunciation (which makes Magdalen ~Maudlin~)
into St. ~Old's~.
-=-
[136 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
been for the great interest which Town assumed on Gown's account, the
former's business-life would have soon failed. But, on many
accounts, or rather, ~in~ many accounts, Gown was deeply indebted to
Town; and, although Gown was often loth to own the obligation, yet
Town never forgot it, but always placed it to Gown's credit.
Occasionally, in his early freshness, Gown would seek to compensate
Town for his obliging favours; but Town would gently run counter to
this wish, and preferred that the evidences of Gown's friendly
intercourse with him should accumulate, until he could, with renewed
interest (as we understand from the authority of an aged pun), obtain
his payments by Degrees.
When Gown was absent, Town was miserable: it was dull; it did
nothing; it lost its customer-y application to business. When Gown
returned, there was no small change, - the benefit was a sovereign one
to Town. Notes, too, passed between them; of which, those received
by Town were occasionally of intrinsic value. Town thanked Gown for
these, - even thanked him when his civility had only been met by
checks, - and smirked, and fawned, and flattered; and Gown patronised
Town, and was offensively condescending. What a relief then must it
have been to the pent-up feelings of Town, when the Saturnalia of a
Guy-Faux day brought its usual license, and Town could stand up
against Gown and try a game of fisticuffs! And if, when there was a
cry "To arms!" we could always settle the dispute in an English
fashion with those arms with which we have been supplied by nature,
there would then, perhaps, be fewer weeping widows and desolate
orphans in the world than there are just at present.
On the evening of the fifth of November, then, Mr. Bouncer's rooms
were occupied by a wine-party; and, among the gentlemen assembled, we
noticed (as newspaper reporters say), Mr. Verdant Green, Mr. Charles
Larkyns, Mr. Fosbrooke, Mr. Smalls, and Mr. Blades. The table was
liberally supplied with wine; and a "dessert at eighteen-pence per
head," - as Mr. Bouncer would afterwards be informed through the
medium of his confectioner's bill; - and, while an animated
conversation was being held on the expected Town and Gown, the party
were fortifying themselves for the ~emeute~ by a rapid consumption of
the liquids before them. Our hero, and some of the younger ones of
the party, who had not yet left off their juvenile likings, were hard
at work at the dessert in that delightful, disregardless-of-dyspepsia
manner, in which boys so love to indulge, even when they have passed
into University ~men~. As usual, the ~bouquet~ of the wine was
somewhat interfered with by those narcotic odours, which, to a
smoker, are as the gales of Araby the Blest.
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 137]
Mr. Blades was conspicuous among the party, not only from his
dimensions, - or, as he phrased it, from "his breadth of beam," - but
also from his free-and-easy costume. "To get himself into wind," as
he alleged, Mr. Blades had just been knocking the wind out of the
Honourable Flexible Shanks (youngest son of the Earl of Buttonhole),
a Tuft from Christ Church, who had left his luxurious rooms in the
Canterbury Quad chiefly for the purpose of preparing himself for the
forthcoming Town and Gown, by putting on the gloves with his boating
friend. The bout having terminated by Mr. Flexible Shanks having
been sent backwards into a tray of wine-glasses with which Mr.
Filcher was just entering the room, the gloves were put aside, and
the combatants had an amicable set-to at a bottle of Carbonell's
"Forty-four," which Mr. Bouncer brought out of a wine-closet in his
bed-room for their especial delectation. Mr. Blades, who was of
opinion that, in dress, ease should always be consulted before
elegance, had not resumed that part of his attire of which he had
divested himself for fistianic purposes; and, with a greater display
of linen than is usually to be seen in society, was seated
comfortably in a lounging chair, smoking the pipe of peace. Since he
had achieved the proud feat of placing the Brazenface boat at the
head of the river, Mr. Blades had gained increased renown, more
especially in his own college, where he was regarded in the light of
a tutelary river deity; and, as training was not going on, he was now
enabled to indulge in a second glass of wine, and also in the luxury
of a cigar. Mr. Blades' shirt-sleeves were turned up so as to
display the anatomical proportion of his arms; and little Mr.
Bouncer, with the grave aspect of a doctor feeling a pulse, was
engaged in fingering his deltoid and biceps muscles, and in uttering
panegyrics on his friend's torso-of-Hercules condition.
"My gum, Billy!" (it must be observed, ~en passant~, that, although
the name given to Mr. Blades at an early age was Frank, yet that when
he was not called "old Blades," he was always addressed as "Billy," -
it being a custom which has obtained in universities, that wrong
names should be familiarly given to certain gentlemen, more as a mark
of friendly intimacy than of derision or caprice.) "My gum, Billy!"
observed Mr. Bouncer, "you're as hard as nails! What an extensive
assortment of muscles you've got on hand, - to say nothing about the
arms. I wish I'd got such a good stock in trade for our customers
to-night; I'd soon sarve 'em out, and make 'em sing peccavi."
"The fact is," said Mr. Flexible Shanks, who was leaning smoking
against the mantelpiece behind him, "Billy is like a respectable
family of bivalves - he is nothing but mussels."
[138 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"Or like an old Turk," joined in Mr. Bouncer, "for he's a regular
Mussulman."
"Oh! Shanks! Bouncer!" cried Charles Larkyns, "what stale jokes! Do
open the window, somebody, - it's really offensive."
"Ah!" said Mr. Blades, modestly, "you only just wait till Footelights
brings the Pet, and then you'll see real muscles."
"It was rather a good move," said Mr. Cheke, a gentleman Commoner of
Corpus, who was lounging in an easy chair, smoking a meerschaum
through an elastic tube a yard long, - "it was rather a good move of
yours, Fossy," he said, addressing himself to Mr. Four-in-hand
Fosbrooke, "to secure the Pet's services. The feller will do us some
service, and will astonish the ~oi polloi~ no end."
"Oh! how prime it ~will~ be," cried little Mr. Bouncer, in ecstacies
with the prospect before him, "to see the Pet pitching into the cads,
and walking into their small affections with his one, two, three! And
don't I just pity them when he gets them into Chancery! Were you ever
in Chancery, Giglamps?"
"No, indeed!" replied the innocent Mr. Verdant Green; "and I hope
that I shall always keep out of it: lawsuits are "so very
disagreeable and expensive."
Mr. Bouncer had only time to remark ~sotto voce~ to Mr. Flexible
Shanks, "it is so jolly refreshing to take a rise out of old
Giglamps!" when a knock at the oak was heard; and, as Mr. Bouncer
roared out, "Come in!" the knocker entered. He was rather dressy in
his style of costume, and wore his long dark hair parted in the
middle. Opening the door, and striking into an attitude, he
exclaimed in a theatrical tone and manner: "Scene, Mr. Bouncer's
rooms in Brazenface: in the centre a table, at which Mr. B. and party
are discovered drinking log-juice, and smoking cabbage-leaves. Door,
left, third entrance; enter the Putney Pet. Slow music; lights
half-down." And standing on one side, the speaker motioned to a
second gentleman to enter the room.
There was no mistaking the profession of this gentleman; even the
inexperience of Mr. Verdant Green did not require to be informed that
the Putney Pet was a prizefighter. "Bruiser" was plainly written in
his personal appearance, from his hard-featured, low-browed,
battered, hang-dog face, to his thickset frame, and the powerful
muscular development of the upper part of his person. His
close-cropped thatch of hair was brushed down tightly to his head,
but was permitted to burst into the luxuriance of two small ringlets,
which dangled in front of each huge ear, and were as carefully curled
and oiled as though they had graced the face of beauty. The Pet was
attired in a dark olive-green cutaway coat, buttoned
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 139]
over a waistcoat of a violent-coloured plaid, -a pair of white cord
trousers that fitted tightly to the leg, - and a white-spotted blue
handkerchief, which was twisted round a neck that might have served
as a model for the Minotaur's. In his mouth, the Pet cherished,
according to his wont, a sprig of parsley; small fragments of which
herb he was accustomed to chew and spit out, as a pleasing relief to
the monotony of conversation. <VG139.JPG>
The Pet, after having been proclaimed victor in more than one of
those playfully frolicsome "Frolics of the Fancy," in which nobly
born but ignobly-minded "Corinthians" formerly invested so much
interest and money, had at length matched his powers against the
gentleman who bore the title of "the champion of the ring"; but,
after a protracted contest of two hours and a half, in which one
hundred and nineteen rounds had been fought, the Pet's eyes had been
completely closed up by an amusing series of blows from the heavy
fists of the more skilful champion; and as the Pet, moreover, was so
battered and bruised, and was altogether so "groggy" that he was
barely able to stand up to be knocked down, his humane second had
thrown up the sponge in acknowledgment of his defeat. But though
unable to deprive the champion of his belt, yet - as ~Tintinnabulum's
Life~ informed its readers on the
[140 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
following Sunday, in its report of this "matchless encounter," - the
Putney Pet had "established a reputation;" and a reputation ~is~ a
reputation, even though it be one which may be offensive to the
nostrils. Retiring, therefore, from the more active public duties of
his profession, he took unto himself a wife and a beershop, - for it
seems to be a freak of "the Fancy," when they retire from one public
line to go into another, - and placing the former in charge of the
latter, the Pet came forth to the world as a "Professor of the noble
art of Self-defence."
It was in this phase of his existence, that Mr. Fosbrooke had the
pleasure of forming his acquaintance. Mr. Fosbrooke had received a
card, which intimated that the Pet would have great pleasure in
giving him "~lessons in the noble and manly art of Self-defence,
either at the gentleman's own residence, or at the Pet's spacious
Sparring Academy, 5, Cribb Court, Drury Lane, which is fitted up with
every regard to the comfort and convenience of his pupils. Gloves
are provided. N.B. - Ratting sports at the above crib every evening.
Plenty of rats always on hand. Use of the Pit gratis.~" Mr.
Fosbrooke, having come to the wise conclusion that every Englishman
ought to know how to be able to use his fists in case of need, and
being quite of the opinion of the gentleman who said: - "my son should
even learn to box, for do we not meet with imposing toll-keepers, and
insolent cabmen? and, as he can't call them out, he should be able to
knock them down,"* at once put himself under the Pet's tuition; and,
as we have before seen, still kept up his practice with the gloves,
when he had got to his own rooms at Brazenface.
But the Pet had other Oxford pupils than Mr. Fosbrooke; and he took
such an affectionate interest in their welfare, that he came down
from Town two or three times in each term, to see if his pupils'
practice had made them perfect in the art. One of the Pet's pupils,
was the gentleman who had now introduced him to Mr. Bouncer's rooms.
His name was Foote, but he was commonly called "Footelights;" the
addition having been made to his name by way of ~sobriquet~ to
express his unusual fondness for the stage, which amounted to so
great a passion, that his very conversation was redolent of "the
footlights." He had only been at St. John's a couple of terms, and
Mr. Fosbrooke had picked up his acquaintance through the medium of
the Pet, and had afterwards made him known to most of the men who
were now assembled at Mr. Bouncer's wine.
"Your servant, gents!" said the Pet, touching his forehead, and
making a scrape with his leg, by way of salutation.
---
* "A Bachelor of Arts", Act I.
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 141]
"Hullo, Pet!" returned Mr. Bouncer; "bring yourself to an anchor, my
man." The Pet accordingly anchored himself by dropping on to the edge
of a chair, and placing his hat underneath it; while Huz and Buz
smelt suspiciously round his legs, and looked at him with an
expression of countenance which bore a wonderful resemblance to that
which they gazed upon.
"Never mind the dogs; they're amiable little beggars," observed Mr.
Bouncer, "and they never bite any one except in play. Now then, Pet,
what sort of liquors are you given to? Here are Claret liquors, Port
liquors, Sherry liquors, egg-flip liquors, Cup liquors. You pays
your money, and you takes your choice!
"Well, sir, thankee!" replied the Pet, "I ain't no ways pertikler,
but if you ~have~ sich a thing as a glass o' sperrits, I'd prefer
that - if not objectionable."
"In course not, Pet! always call for what you like. We keep all
sorts of liquors, and are allowed to get drunk on the premises.
Ain't we, Giglamps?" Firing this raking shot as he passed our hero,
little Mr. Bouncer dived into the cupboard which served as his
wine-bin, and brought therefrom two bottles of brandy and whiskey
which he set before the Pet. "If you like gin or rum, or
cherry-brandy, or old old-tom, better than these liquors," said Mr.
Bouncer, astonishing the Pet with the resources of a College
wine-cellar, "just say the word, and you shall have them. 'I can call
spirits from the vasty deep;' as Shikspur says. How will you take
it, Pet? Neat, or adulterated? Are you for ~callidum cum~, or
~frigidum sine~ - for hot-with, or cold-without?"
"I generally takes my sperrits 'ot, sir - if not objectionable,"
replied the Pet deferentially. Whereupon Mr. Bouncer seizing his
speaking-trumpet, roared through it from the top of the stairs,
"Rob-ert! Rob-ert!" But, as Mr. Filcher did not answer the summons,
Mr. Bouncer threw up the window of his room, and bellowed out
"Rob-ert" in tones which must have been perfectly audible in the High
Street. "Doose take the feller, he's always over at the Buttery;"
said the incensed gentleman.
"I'll go up to old Sloe's room, and get his kettle," said Mr. Smalls;
"he teas all day long to keep himself awake for reading. If he don't
mind, he'll blow himself up with his gunpowder tea before he can take
his double-first."
By the time Mr. Smalls had re-appeared with the kettle, Mr. Filcher
had thought it prudent to answer his master's summons.
"Did you call, sir?" asked the scout, as though he was doubtful on
that point.
[142 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"Call!" said Mr. Bouncer, with great irony; "oh, no! of course not! I
should rather think not! Do you suppose that you are kept here that
parties may have the chance of hollering out their lungs for you?
Don't answer me, sir! but get some hot water, and some more glasses;
and be quick about it." Mr. Filcher was gone immediately; and, in
three minutes, everything was settled to Mr. Bouncer's satisfaction,
and he gave Mr. Filcher farther orders to bring up coffee and anchovy
toast, at half-past eight o'clock. "Now, Pet, my <VG142.JPG>
beauty!" said the little gentleman, "you just walk into the liquors;
because you've got some toughish work before you, you know."
The Pet did not require any pressing, but did as he was told; and,
bestowing a collective nod on the company, drank their healths with
the prefatory remark, "I looks to-~wards~ you gents!"
"Will you poke a smipe, Pet?" asked Mr. Bouncer, rather
enigmatically; but, as he at the same time placed before Pet a "yard
of clay" and a box of cigars, the professor of the art of
self-defence perceived that he was asked to smoke a pipe.
"That's right, Pet!" said the Honourable Flexible Shanks,
condescendingly, as the prizefighter scientifically filled the bowl
of his pipe; "I'm glad to see you join us in a bit of smoke. We're
all ~Baccy~-nalians now!" "Shanks, you're incorrigible!" said
Charles Larkyns; "and don't you remember what the ~Oxford Parodies~
say?" and in his clear, rich voice, Mr. Larkyns sang the two
following verses to the air of "Love not:"-
Smoke not, smoke not, your weeds nor pipes of clay!
Cigars they are made from leaves of cauliflowers;-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 143]
Things that are doomed no duty e'er to pay;-
Grown, made, and smoked in a few short hours.
Smoke not - smoke not!
Smoke not, smoke not, the weed you smoke may change
The healthfulness of your stomachic tone;
Things to the eye grow queer and passing strange;
All thoughts seem undefined - save one - to be alone!
Smoke not - smoke not!
"I know what you're thinking about, Giglamps," said Mr. Bouncer, as
Charles Larkyns ceased his parody amid an approving clatter of
glasses; "you were thinking of your first weed on the night of
Smalls' quiet party: wer'nt you now, old feller? Ah, you've learnt
to poke a smipe, beautiful, since then. Pet, here's your health.
I'll give you a toast and s~i~ntiment, gentlemen. May the Gown give
the Town a jolly good hiding!" The sentiment was received with great
applause, and the toast was drunk with all the honours, and followed
by the customary but inappropriate chorus, "For he's a jolly good
fellow!" without the singing of which Mr. Bouncer could not allow any
toast to pass.
"How many cads could you lick at once, one off and the other on?"
asked Mr. Fosbrooke of the Pet, with the air of Boswell when he
wanted to draw out the Doctor.
"Well, sir," said the Pet, with the modesty of true genius, "I
wouldn't be pertickler to a score or so, as long as I'd got my back
well up agin some'ut, and could hit out."
"What an effective tableau it would be!" observed Mr. Foote, who had
always an eye to dramatic situations. "Enter the Pet, followed by
twenty townspeople. First T.P. - Yield, traitor! Pet - Never! the
man who would yield when ordered to do so, is unworthy the name of a
Pet and an Englishman! Floors the twenty T.P.'s one after the other.
Tableau, blue fire. Why, it would surpass the British sailor's
broadsword combat for six, and bring down the house."
"Talking of bringing down", said Mr. Blades, "did you remember to
bring down a cap and gown for the Pet, as I told you?"
"Well, I believe those ~were~ the stage directions," answered Mr.
Foote; "but, really, the wardrobe was so ill provided that it would
only supply a cap. But perhaps that will do for a super."
"If by a super you mean a supernumerary, Footelights," said Mr.
Cheke, the gentleman Commoner of Corpus, "then the Pet isn't one.
He's the leading character of what you would call the ~dramatis
personae.~"
"True," replied Mr. Foote, "he's cast for the hero; though he will
create a new ~role~ as the walking-into-them gentleman."
"You see, Footelights," said Mr. Blades, "that the Pet is to
[144 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
lead our forces; and we depend upon him to help us on to victory: and
we must put him into academicals, not only because the town cads must
think he is one of us, but also because the proctors might otherwise
deprive us of his services - and old Towzer, the Senior Proctor, in
particular, is sure to be all alive. Who's got an old gown?"
"I will lend mine with pleasure," said Mr. Verdant Green.
"But you'll want it yourself," said Mr. Blades.
"Why, thank you," faltered our hero, "I'd rather, I think, keep
within college. I can see the - the fun - yes, the fun - from the
window."
"Oh, blow it, Giglamps!" ejaculated Mr. Bouncer, "you'll never go to
do the mean, and show the white feather, will you?"
"Music expressive of trepidation," murmured Mr. Foote, by way of
parenthesis.
"But," pursued our hero, apologetically, "there will be, I dare say,
a large crowd."
"A very powerful ~caste~, no doubt," observed Mr. Foote.
"And I may get my - yes, my spectacles broken; and then" -
"And then, Giglamps," said Mr. Bouncer, "why, and then you shall be
presented with another pair as a testimonial of affection from yours
truly. Come, Giglamps, don't do the mean! a man of your standing,
and with a chest like that!" and the little gentleman sounded on our
hero's shirt-front, as doctors do when they stethoscope a patient.
"Come, Giglamps, old feller, you mustn't refuse. You didn't ought
to was, as Shakespeare says."
"Pardon me! Not Shakespeare, but Wright, in the 'Green Bushes,' "
interrupted Mr. Foote, who was as painfully anxious as Mr. Payne
Collier himself that the text of the great poet should be free from
corruptions.
So Mr. Verdant Green, reluctantly, it must be confessed, suffered
himself to be persuaded to join that section of the Gown which was to
be placed under the leadership of the redoubted Pet; while little Mr.
Bouncer, who had gone up into Mr. Sloe's rooms, and had vainly
endeavoured to persuade that gentleman to join in the forthcoming
~melee~, returned with an undergraduate's gown, and forthwith
invested the Pet with it.
"I don't mind this 'ere mortar-board, sir," remarked the professor of
the noble art of self-defence, as he pointed to the academical cap
which surmounted his head, "I don't mind the mortar-board, sir; but I
shall never be able to do nothink with this 'ere toggery on my
shudders. I couldn't use my mawleys no how!" And the Pet illustrated
his remark in a professional manner, by sparring at an imaginary
opponent in a feeble and unscientific fashion.
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 145]
"But you can tie the tail-curtain round your shoulders - like this!"
said Mr. Fosbrooke, as he twisted his own gown tightly round him.
But the Pet had taken a decided objection to the drapery: "The
costume would interfere with the action," as Mr. Foote remarked, "and
the management of a train requires great practice."
"You see, sir," said the Pet, "I ain't used to the feel of it, and I
couldn't go to business properly, or give a straight nosender no how.
But the mortar-board ain't of so much consekvence." So a compromise
was made; and it was agreed that the Pet was to wear the academicals
until he had arrived at the scene of action, where he could then
pocket the gown, and resume it on any alarm of the Proctor's approach.
"Here, Giglamps, old feller! get a priming of fighting-powder!" said
little Mr. Bouncer to our hero, as the party were on the point of
sallying forth; "it'll make you hit out from your shoulder like a
steam-engine with the chill off." And, as Mr. Bouncer whispered to
Charles Larkyns,
"So he kept his spirits up
By pouring spirits down,"
Verdant - who felt extremely nervous, either from excitement or from
fear, or from a pleasing mixture of both sensations-drank off a deep
draught of something which was evidently not drawn from Nature's
spring or the college pump; for it first took away his breath, and
made his eyes water; and it next made him cough, and endeavour to
choke himself; and it then made his face flush, and caused him to
declare that "the first snob who 'sulted him should have a sound
whopping".
"Brayvo, Giglamps!" cried little Mr. Bouncer, as he patted him on
the shoulder; "come along! You're the right sort of fellow for a Town
and Gown, after all!"
CHAPTER IV.
MR. VERDANT GREEN DISCOVERS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TOWN
AND GOWN.
IT was ten minutes past nine, and Tom,* with a sonorous voice, was
ordering all College gates to be shut, when the wine party, which had
just left Mr. Bouncer's room, passed round the corner of St. Mary's,
and dashed across the High. The Town and Gown had already begun.
---
* The great bell of Christ Church. It tolls 101 times each evening at
ten minutes past nine o'clock (there being 101 students on the
foundation) and marks the time for the closing of the college gates.
"Tom" is one of the lions of Oxford. It formerly belonged to Oseney
Abbey, and weighs about 17,000 pounds, being more than double the
weight of the great bell of St. Paul's.
[146 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
As usual, the Town had taken the initiative; and, in a dense body,
had made their customary sweep of the High Street, driving all before
them. After this gallant exploit had been accomplished to the entire
satisfaction of the oppidans, the Town had separated into two or
three portions, which had betaken themselves to the most probable
fighting points, and had gone where glory waited them, thirsting for
the blood, or, at any rate, for the bloody noses of the gowned
aristocrats. Woe betide the luckless gownsman, who, on such an
occasion, ventures abroad without an escort, or trusts to his own
unassisted powers to defend himself! He is forthwith pounced upon by
some score of valiant Townsmen, who are on the watch for these
favourable opportunities for a display of their personal prowess, and
he may consider himself very fortunate if he is able to get back to
his College with nothing worse than black eyes and bruises. It is so
seldom that the members of the Oxford snobocracy have the privilege
afforded them of using their fists on the faces and persons of the
members of the Oxford aristocracy, that when they ~do~ get the
chance, they are unwilling to let it slip through their fingers.
Dark tales have, indeed, been told, of solitary and unoffending
undergraduates having, on such occasions, not only received a severe
handling from those same fingers, but also having been afterwards,
through their agency, bound by their own leading strings to the rails
of the Radcliffe, and there left ignominiously to struggle, and shout
for assistance. And darker tales still have been told of luckless
Gownsmen having been borne "leg and wing" fashion to the very banks
of the Isis, and there ducked, amidst the jeers and taunts of their
persecutors. But such tales as these are of too dreadful a nature
for the conversation of Gownsmen, and are very properly believed to
be myths scandalously propagated by the Town.
The crescent moon shone down on Mr. Bouncer's party, and gave ample
light
To light ~them~ on ~their~ prey.
A noise and shouting, - which quickly made our hero's Bob-Acreish
resolutions ooze out at his fingers' ends, - was heard coming from the
direction of Oriel Street; and a small knot of Gownsmen, who had been
cut off from a larger body, appeared, manfully retreating with their
faces to the foe, fighting as they fell back, but driven by superior
numbers up the narrow street, by St. Mary's Hall, and past the side
of Spiers's shop into the High Street.
"Gown to the rescue!" shouted Mr. Blades as he dashed across the
street; "come on, Pet! here we are in the thick of it, just in the
nick of time!" and, closely followed by Charles Larkyns, Mr.
Fosbrooke, Mr. Smalls, Mr. Bouncer, Mr. Flexible
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 147]
Shanks, Mr. Cheke, Mr. Foote, and our hero, and the rest of the
party, they soon plunged ~in medias res~.
The movement was particularly well-timed, for the small <VG147.JPG>
body of Gownsmen were beginning to get roughly handled; but the
succour afforded by the Pet and his party soon changed the aspect of
affairs; and, after a brief skirmish, there was a temporary cessation
of hostilities. As reinforcements poured in on either side, the mob
which represented the Town, wavered, and spread themselves across on
each side of the High; while a huge, lumbering bargeman, who appeared
to be the generalissimo of their forces, delivered himself of a brief
but energetic speech, in which he delivered his opinion of Gownsmen
in general, and his immediate foes in particular, in a way which
would have to be expressed in proper print chiefly by blanks, and
which would have assuredly entailed upon him a succession of
five-shilling fines, had he been in a court of justice, and before a
magistrate.
"Here's a pretty blank, I don't think!" he observed in conclusion, as
he pointed to Mr. Verdant Green, who was nervously settling his
spectacles, and wishing himself safe back in his own rooms; "I
would'nt give a blank for such a blank blank. I'm blank if he don't
look as though he'd swaller'd a blank codfish, and had bust out into
blank barnacles!" As the Bargee was apparently regarded by his party
as a gentleman of infinite humour, his highly-flavoured blank remarks
were received by them with shouts of laughter; while our hero
obtained far more of the ~digito monstrari~ share of public notice
than he wished for.
For some brief space, the warfare between the rival parties of Town
and Gown continued to be one merely of words - a mutual discharge of
~epea pteroenta~ (~vulgariter~ "chaff"), in which a small amount of
sarcasm was mingled with a large
[148 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
share of vituperation. At length, a slang rhyme of peculiar
offensiveness was used to a Wadham gentleman, which so exasperated
him that he immediately, by way of a forcible reply, sent his fist
full into the speaker's face. On this, a collision took place
between those who formed the outside of the crowd; and the Gowns
flocked together to charge ~en masse~. Mr. Verdant Green was not
quite aware of this sudden movement, and, for a moment, was cut off
from the rest. This did not escape the eyes of the valiant Bargee,
who had already <VG148.JPG> singled out our hero as the one whom he
could most easily punish, with the least chance of getting quick returns
for his small profits. Forthwith, therefore, he rushed to his
victim, and aimed a heavy blow at him, which Verdant only half
avoided by stooping. Instinctively doubling his fists, our hero
found that Necessity was, indeed, the mother of Invention; and, with
a passing thought of what would be his mother's and Aunt Virginia's
feelings could they see him fighting in the public streets with a
common bargeman, he contrived to guard off the second blow. But at
the next furious l[ ]unge of the Bargee he was not quite so fortunate,
and, receiving that gentleman's heavy fist full in his forehead, he
staggered backwards, and was only prevented from measuring his length
on the pavement by falling against the iron gates of St. Mary's. The
delighted Bargee was just on the point of putting the ~coup de grace~
to his attack, when, to Verdant's inexpressible delight and relief,
his lumbering antagonist was sent sprawling by a well-directed blow
on his right ear. Charles Larkyns, who had kept a friendly eye on
our hero, had spied his condition, and had sprung to his assistance.
He was closely followed by the Pet, who had divested himself of the
gown which had encumbered his shoulders, and was now freely striking
out
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 149]
in all directions. The fight had become general, and fresh
combatants had sprung up on either side.
"Keep close to me, Verdant," said Charles Larkyns, - quite
unnecessarily, by the way, as our hero had no intention of
<VG149.JPG> doing otherwise until he saw a way to escape; "keep close
to me, and I'll take care you are not hurt."
"Here ye are!" cried the Pet, as he set his back against the
stone-work flanking the iron gates of the church, immediately in
front of one of the curiously twisted pillars of the Porch;* "come
on, half a dozen of ye, and let me have a rap at your smellers!" and
he looked at the mob in the "Come one, come
---
* The porch was erected in 1637 by order of Archbishop Laud. In the
centre of the porch is a statue of the Virgin with the Child in her
arms, holding a small crucifix; which at the time of its erection
gave such offence to the Puritans that it was included in the
articles of impeachment against the Archbishop. The statue remains
to this day.
[150 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
all defiant" fashion of Fitz-James; while Charles Larkyns and Verdant
set their backs against the church gates, and prepared for a rush.
The Bargee came up furious, and hit out wildly at Charles Larkyns;
but science was more than a match for brute force; and, after
receiving two or three blows which caused him to shake his head in a
don't-like-it sort of way, he endeavoured to turn his attention to
Mr. Verdant Green, who, with head in air, was taking the greatest
care of his spectacles, and endeavouring to ward off the
indiscriminate lunges of half a dozen townsmen. The Bargee's
charitable designs on our hero were, however, frustrated by the
opportune appearance of Mr. Blades and Mr. Cheke, the gentleman-
commoner of Corpus, who, in their turn, were closely followed by Mr.
Smalls and Mr. Flexible Shanks; and Mr. Blades exclaiming, "There's a
smasher for your ivories, my fine fellow!" followed up his remark
with a practical application of his fist to the part referred to;
whereupon the Bargee fell back with a howl, and gave vent to several
curse-ory observations, and blank remarks.
All this time the Pet was laying about him in the most determined
manner; and, to judge from his professional observations, his
scientific acquirements were in full play. He had agreeable remarks
for each of his opponents; and, doubtless, the punishment which they
received from his stalwart arms came with more stinging force when
the parts affected were pointed out by his illustrative language. To
one gentleman he would pleasantly observe, as he tapped him on the
chest, "Bellows to mend for you, my buck!" or else, "There's a
regular rib-roaster for you!" or else, in the still more elegant
imagery of the Ring, "There's a squelcher in the breadbasket, that'll
stop ~your~ dancing, my kivey!" While to another he would cheerfully
remark, "Your head-rails were loosened there, wasn't they?" or, "How
about the kissing-trap?" or, "That draws the bung from the
beer-barrel I'm a thinkin'." While to another he would say, as a
fact not to be disputed, "You napp'd it heavily on your whisker-bed,
didn't you?" or, "That'll raise a tidy mouse on your ogle, my lad!"
or, "That'll take the bark from your nozzle, and distil the Dutch
pink for you, won't it?" While to another he would mention as an
interesting item of news, "Now we'll tap your best October!" or,
"There's a crack on your snuff-box!" or, "That'll damage your
potato-trap!" Or else he would kindly inquire of one gentleman, "What
d'ye ask a pint for your cochineal dye?" or would amiably recommend
another that, as his peepers were a goin' fast, he'd best put up the
shutters, because the early-closing movement ought to be follered
out. All this was done in the cheeriest manner; while, at the same
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 151]
time, the Pet proved himself to be not only a perfect master of his
profession, but also a skilful adept in those figures of speech, or
"nice derangements of epitaphs," as Mrs. Malaprop calls them, in
which the admirers of the fistic art so much delight. At every blow,
a fresh opponent either fell or staggered off; the supremacy of the
Pet was complete, and his claim to be considered a Professor of the
noble and manly art of Self-defence was triumphantly established.
"The Putney Pet" was a decidedly valuable acquisition to the side of
Gown. <VG151.JPG>
Soon the crowd became thinner, as those of the Town who liked to
give, but not to receive hard blows, stole off to other quarters; and
the Pet and his party would have been left peaceably to themselves.
But this was not what they wanted, as long as fighting was going on
elsewhere; even Mr. Verdant Green began to feel desperately
courageous as the Town took to their heels, and fled; and, having
performed prodigies of valour in almost knocking down a small cad who
had had the temerity to attack him, our hero felt himself to be a
hero indeed, and announced his intention of pursuing the mob, and
sticking close to Charles Larkyns, - taking especial care to do the
latter.
"All the savage soul of ~fight~ was up";
and the Gown following the scattered remnant of the flying Town, ran
them round by All Saints' Church, and up the Turl. Here another Town
and Gown party had fought their way from the Corn-market; and the
Gown, getting considerably the worst of the conflict, had taken
refuge within Exeter College by the express order of the Senior
Proctor, the Rev. Thomas Tozer, more familiarly known as "old
Towzer." He had endeavoured to assert his proctorial authority over
the
[152 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
mob of the townspeople; but the ~profanum vulgus~ had not only
scoffed and jeered him, but had even torn his gown, and treated his
velvet sleeves with the indignity of mud; while the only fireworks
which had been exhibited on that evening had been let off in his very
face. Pushed on, and hustled by the mob, and only partially
protected by his Marshal and Bulldogs,* he was saved from further
indignity by the arrival of a small knot of Gownsmen, who rushed to
his rescue. Their number was too small, however, to make head
against the mob, and the best that they could do was to cover the
Proctor's retreat. Now, the Rev. Thomas Tozer was short, and
inclined to corpulence, and, although not wanting for courage, yet
the exertion of defending himself from a superior force, was not only
a fruitless one, but was, moreover, productive of much unpleasantness
and perspiration. Deeming, therefore, that discretion was the better
part of valour, he fled (like those who tended, or ~ought~ to have
attended to, the flocks of Mr. Norval, Sen.)
"for safety and for succour;"
and, being rather short of the necessary article of wind, by the time
that he had reached Exeter College, he had barely breath enough left
to tell the porter to keep the gate shut until he had assembled a
body of Gownsmen to assist him in capturing those daring ringleaders
of the mob who had set his authority at defiance. This was soon
done; the call to arms was made, and every Exeter man who was not
already out, ran to "old Towzer's" assistance.
"Now, Porter," said Mr. Tozer, "unbar the gate without noise, and I
will look forth to observe the position of the mob. Gentlemen, hold
yourselves in readiness to secure the ringleaders."
The porter undid the wicket, and the Rev. Thomas Tozer cautiously put
forth his head. It was a rash act; for, no sooner had his nose
appeared round the edge of the wicket, than it received a flattening
blow from the fist of an active gentleman, who, like a clever
cricketer, had been on the lookout for an opportunity to get in to
his adversary's wicket.
"Oh, this is painful! this is very painful!" ejaculated Mr. Tozer, as
he rapidly drew in his head. "Close the wicket directly, porter, and
keep it fast." It was like closing the gates of Hougomont. The
active gentleman who had damaged Mr. Tozer's nose threw himself
against the wicket, his comrades assisted him, and the porter had
some difficulty in obeying the Proctor's orders.
---
* The Marshal is the Proctor's chief officer. The name of
"Bull-dogs" is given to the two inferior officers who attend the
Proctor in his nightly rounds.
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 153]
"Oh, this is painful!" murmured the Rev. Thomas Tozer, as he applied
a handkerchief to his bleeding nose; "this is painful, this is very
painful! this is exceedingly painful, gentlemen!"
He was immediately surrounded by sympathizing undergraduates, who
begged him to allow them at once to charge the Town; but "old
Towzer's" spirit seemed to have been aroused by the indignity to
which he had been forced so publicly to submit, and he replied that,
as soon as the bleeding <VG153.JPG> had ceased, he would lead them
forth in person. An encouraging cheer followed this courageous
resolve, and was echoed from without by the derisive applause of the
Town.
When Mr. Tozer's nose had ceased to bleed, the signal was given for
the gates to be thrown open; and out rushed Proctor, Marshal,
Bull-dogs, and undergraduates. The Town was in great force, and the
fight became desperate. To the credit of the Town, be it said, they
discarded bludgeons and stones, and fought, in John Bull fashion,
with their fists. Scarcely a stick was to be seen. Singling out his
man, Mr. Tozer made at him valiantly, supported by his Bull-dogs, and
a small band of Gownsmen. But the heavy gown and velvet sleeves were
a grievous hindrance to the Proctor's prowess; and, although
supported on either side by his two attendant Bull-dogs. yet
[154 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
the weight of his robes made poor Mr. Tozer almost as harmless as the
blind King of Bohemia between his two faithful knights at the battle
of Crecy; and, as each of the party had to look to, and fight for
himself, the Senior Proctor soon found himself in an awkward
predicament.
The cry of "Gown to the rescue!" therefore, fell pleasantly on his
ears; and the reinforcement headed by Mr. Charles Larkyns and his
party, materially improved the aspect of affairs on the side of Gown.
Knocking down a cowardly fellow, who was using his heavy-heeled
boots on the body of a prostrate undergraduate, Mr. Blades, closely
followed by the Pet, dashed in to the Proctor's assistance; and never
in a Town and Gown was assistance more timely rendered; for the Rev.
Thomas Tozer had just received his first knock-down blow! By the
help of Mr. Blades the fallen chieftain was quickly replaced upon his
legs; while the Pet stepped before him, and struck out skilfully
right and left. Ten more minutes of scientific pugilism, and the
fate of the battle was decided. The Town fled every way; some round
the corner by Lincoln College; some up the Turl towards Trinity; some
down Ship Street; and some down by Jesus College, and Market Street.
A few of the more resolute made a stand in Broad Street; but it was
of no avail; and they received a sound punishment at the hands of the
Gown, on the spot, where, some three centuries before, certain mitred
Gownsmen had bravely suffered martyrdom.*
Now, the Rev. Thomas Tozer was a strict disciplinarian, and, although
he had so materially benefited by the Pet's assistance, yet, when he
perceived that that pugilistic gentleman was not possessed of the
full complement of academical attire, the duties of the Proctor rose
superior to the gratitude of the Man; and, with all the sternness of
an ancient Roman Father, he said to the Pet, "Why have you not on
your gown, sir?"
"I ax your pardon, guv'nor!" replied the Pet, deferentially; "I
didn't so much care about the mortar-board, but I couldn't do nothin'
nohow with t'other thing, so I pocketted him; but some cove must have
gone and prigged him, for he ain't here."
"I am unable to comprehend the nature of your language, sir,"
observed the Rev. Thomas Tozer, angrily; for, what with his own
excitement, and the shades of evening which had stolen over and
obscured the Pet's features, he was unable to read
---
* The ~exact~ spot where Archbishop Cranmer and Bishops Ridley and
Latimer suffered martyrdom is not known. "The most likely
supposition is, that it was in the town ditch, the site of which is
now occupied by the houses in Broad Street, which are immediately
opposite the gateway of Balliol College, or the footpath in front of
them, where an extensive layer of wood-ashes is known to remain." -
(Parker).
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 155]
that gentleman's character and profession in his face, and therefore
came to the conclusion that he was being chaffed by some impudent
undergraduate. "I don't in the least understand you, sir; but I
desire at once to know your name, and College, sir!"
The Putney Pet stared. If the Rev. Thomas Tozer had asked him for
the name of his Academy, he would have been able to have referred him
to his spacious and convenient Sparring Academy, 5, Cribb Court,
Drury Lane; but the inquiry <VG155.JPG> for his "College," was, in the
language of his profession, a "regular floorer". Mr. Blades,
however, stepped forward, and explained matters to the Proctor, in a
satisfactory manner.
"Well, well!" said the pacified Mr. Tozer to
the Pet; "you have used your skill very much to our advantage, and
displayed pugilistic powers not unworthy of the athletes, and xystics
of the noblest days of Rome. As a palaestrite you would have gained
palms in the gymnastic exercises of the Circus Maximus. You might
even have proved a formidable rival to Dares, who, as you, Mr.
Blades, will remember, caused the death of Butes at Hector's tomb.
You will remember, Mr. Blades, that Virgil makes mention of his
'humeros latos,' and says:-
'Nec quisquam ex agmine tanto
Audet adire virum, manibusque inducere caestus;' *
---
* AEn., Book v., 378.
-=-
[156 THE ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
which, in our English idiom, would signify, that every one was afraid
to put on the gloves with him. And, as your skill," resumed Mr.
Tozer, turning to the Pet, "has been exercised in defence of my
person, and in upholding the authority of the University, I will
overlook your offence in assuming that portion of the academical
attire, to which you gave the offensive epithet of 'mortar-board ;'
more especially, as you acted at the suggestion and bidding of those
who ought to have known better. And now, go home, sir, and resume
your customary head-dress; and - stay! here's five shillings for you."
"I'm much obleeged to you, guv'nor," said the Pet, who had been
listening with considerable surprise to the Proctor's quotations and
comparisons, and wondering whether the gentleman named Dares, who
caused the death of beauties, was a member of the P.R., and whether
they made it out a case of manslaughter against him? and if the
gaining palms in a circus was the customary "flapper-shaking" before
"toeing the scratch for business?" - "I'm much obleeged to you,
guv'nor," said the Pet, as he made a scrape with his leg; "and,
whenever you ~does~ come up to London, I 'ope you'll drop in at Cribb
Court, and have a turn with the gloves!" And the Pet, very politely,
handed one of his professional cards to the Rev. Thomas Tozer.
A little later than this, a very jovial supper party might have been
seen assembled in a principal room at "the Roebuck." To enable them
to be back within their college walls, and save their gates, before
the hour of midnight should arrive, the work of consuming the grilled
bones and welch-rabbits was going on with all reasonable speed, the
heavier articles being washed down by draughts of "heavy." After the
cloth was withdrawn, several songs of a miscellaneous character were
sung by "the professional gentlemen present," including, "by
particular request," the celebrated "Marble Halls" song of our hero,
which was given with more coherency than on a previous occasion, but
was no less energetically led in its "you-loved-me-still-the-same"
chorus by Mr. Bouncer. The Pet was proudly placed on the right hand
of the chairman, Mr. Blades; and, when his health was proposed, "with
many thanks to him for the gallant and plucky manner in which he had
led on the Gown to a glorious victory," the "three times three," and
the "one cheer more," and the "again," and "again," and the "one
other little un!" were uproariously given (as Mr. Foote expressed
it), "by the whole strength of the company, assisted by Messrs.
Larkyns, Smalls, Fosbrooke, Flexible Shanks, Cheke, and Verdant
Green."
The forehead of the last-named gentleman was decorated with a patch
of brown paper, from which arose an aroma, as
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 157]
though of vinegar. The battle of "Town and Gown" was over; and Mr.
Verdant Green was among the number of the wounded.
CHAPTER V.
MR. VERDANT GREEN IS FAVOURED WITH MR. BOUNCER'S OPINIONS
REGARDING AN UNDERGRADUATE'S EPISTOLARY COMMUNICATIONS
TO HIS MATERNAL RELATIVE.
"COME in, whoever you are! don't mind the dogs!" shouted little Mr.
Bouncer, as he lay, in an extremely inelegant attitude, in, a red
morocco chair, which was <VG157.JPG> considerably the worse for wear,
chiefly on account of the ill-usage it had to put up with, in being
made to represent its owner's antagonist, whenever Mr. Bouncer
thought fit to practise his fencing. "Oh! it's you and Giglamps is
it, Charley? I'm just refreshing myself with a weed, for I've been
desperately hard at work."
"What! Harry Bouncer devoting himself to study! But this is the age
of wonders," said Charles Larkyns, who entered the room in company
with Mr. Verdant Green, whose forehead still betrayed the effects of
the blow he had received a few nights before.
"It ain't reading that I meant," replied Mr. Bouncer, "though that
always ~does~ floor me, and no mistake! and what's the use of their
making us peg away so at Latin and Greek, I can't make out. When I
go out into society, I don't want to talk about those old Greek and
Latin birds that they make us get up. I don't want to ask any old
dowager I happen to fall in with at a tea-fight, whether she believes
all the crammers that Herodotus tells us, or whether she's well up in
the naughty tales and rummy nuisances that we have to pass no end of
our years in getting by heart. And when I go to a ball, and do the
light fantastic, I don't want to ask my partner what she thinks about
Euripides, or whether she prefers Ovid's Metamorphoses to Ovid's Art
of Love, and all that sort of thing; and as for requesting her to do
me a problem of
[158 THE ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
Euclid, instead of working me any glorified slippers or woolleries,
I'd scorn the ~h~action. I ain't like you, Charley, and I'm not
~guv~ in the classics: I saw too much of the beggars <VG158.JPG>
while I was at Eton to take kindly to 'em; and just let me once get
through my Greats, and see if I don't precious soon drop the
acquaintance of those old classical parties!"
"No you won't, old fellow!" said Charles Larkyns; "you'll find that
they'll stick to you through life, just like poor relations, and you
won't be able to shake them off. And you ought not to wish to do so,
more especially as, in the end, you will find them to have been very
rich relations."
"A sort of 'O my prophetic soul, my uncle!' I suppose, Master
Charley." observed Mr. Bouncer; "but what I meant when I said that I
had been hard at work was, that I had been writing a letter; and,
though I say it that ought not to say it, I flatter myself it's no
end of a good letter."
"Is it a love-letter?" asked Charles Larkyns, who was leaning against
the mantelpiece, amusing himself with a cigar which he had taken from
Mr. Bouncer's box.
"A love-letter?" replied the little gentleman, contemptuously - "my
gum! no; I should rayther think not! I may have done many foolish
things in my life, but I can't have the tender passion laid to my
charge. No! I've been writing my letter to the Mum: I always write
to her once a term." Mr. Bouncer, it must be observed, always
referred to his maternal relative (his father had been long dead) by
the epithet of "the Mum."
"Once a term!" said our hero, in a tone of surprise; "why I always
write home once or twice every week."
"You don't mean to say so, Giglamps!" replied Mr. Bouncer, with
admiration. "Well, some fellers have what you call a genius for that
sort of thing, you see, though what
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 159]
you can find to tell 'em I can't imagine. But if I'd gone at that
pace I should have got right through the Guide Book by this time, and
then it would have been all U P, and I should have been obleeged to
have invented another dodge. You don't seem to take, Giglamps?"
"Well, I really don't know what you mean," answered our hero.
"Why," continued Mr. Bouncer, "you see, there's only the Mum and
Fanny at home: Fanny's my sister, Giglamps - a regular stunner - just
suit you! - and they, you understand, don't care to hear about wines,
and Town and Gowns, and all that sort of thing; and, you see, I ain't
inventive and that, and can't spin a yarn about nothing; so, as soon
as ever I came up to Oxford, I invested money in a Guide Book; and I
began at the beginning, and I gave the Mum three pages of Guide Book
in each letter. Of course, you see, the Mum imagines it's all my own
observation; and she thinks no end of my letters, and says that they
make her know Oxford almost as well as if she lived here; and she, of
course, makes a good deal of me; and as Oxford's the place where I
hang out, you see, she takes an interest in reading something about
the jolly old place."
"Of course," observed Mr. Verdant Green - "my mamma - mother, at
least - and sisters, always take pleasure in hearing about Oxford;
but your plan never occurred to me."
"It's a first-rater, and no mistake," said Mr. Bouncer, confidently,
"and saves a deal of trouble. I think of taking out a patent for it
- 'Bouncer's Complete Letter-Writer,' - or get some literary swell to
put it into a book, 'with a portrait of the inventor;' it would be
sure to sell. You see, it's what you call amusement blended with
information; and that's more than you can say of most men's letters
to the Home department."
"Cocky Palmer's, for instance," said Charles Larkyns, "which always
contained a full, true, and particular account of his Wheatley
doings. He used to go over there, Verdant, to indulge in the noble
sport of cock-fighting, for which he had a most unamiable and
unenviable weakness; that was the reason why he was called 'Cocky'
Palmer. His elder brother - who was a Pembroke man - was
distinguished by the pronomen 'Snuffy,' to express his excessive
partiality for that titillating compound."
"And Snuffy Palmer," remarked Mr. Bouncer, "was a long sight better
feller than Cocky, who was in the very worst set in Brazenface. But
Cocky did the Wheatley dodge once too often, and it was a good job
for the King of Oude when his friend Cocky came to grief, and had to
take his name off the books."
"You look as though you wanted a translation of this,"
[160 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
said Charles Larkyns to our hero, who had been listening to the
conversation with some wonderment, - understanding about as much of it
as many persons who attend the St. James's Theatre understand the
dialogue of the French Plays. "There are College ~cabalia~, as well
as Jewish; and College surnames are among these. 'The King of Oude'
was a man of the name of Towlinson, who always used to carry into
Hall with him a bottle of the '~King of Oude's Sauce~,' for which he
had some mysterious liking, and without which he professed himself
unable to get through his dinner. At one time he was a great friend
of Cocky Palmer's, and used to go with him to the cock-fights at
Wheatley - that village just on the other side Shotover Hill - where
we did a 'constitutional' the other day. Cocky, as our respected
friend says, 'Came to grief,' but was allowed to save himself from
expulsion by voluntarily, or rather in-voluntarily, taking his name
off the books. When his connection with Cocky had thus been
ruthlessly broken, 'the King' got into a better set, and retrieved
his character."
"The moral of which, my beloved Giglamps," observed Mr. Bouncer, "is,
that there are as many sets of men in a College as there are of
quadrilles in a ball-room, and that it's just as easy to take your
place in one as it is in another; but, that when you've once taken up
your position, you'll find it ain't an easy thing, you see, to make a
change for yourself, till the set is broken up. Whereby, Giglamps,
you may comprehend what a grateful bird you ought to be, for
Charley's having put you into the best set in Brazenface."
Mr. Verdant Green was heard to murmur, "sensible of honour, - grateful
for kindness, - endeavours to deserve," - and the other broken
sentiments which are commonly made use of by gentlemen who get upon
their legs to return thanks for having been "tea-potted."
"If you like to hear it," said Mr. Bouncer, "I'll read you my letter
to the Mum. It ain't very private; and I flatter myself, Giglamps,
that it'll serve you as a model."
"Let's have it by all means, Harry," said Charles Larkyns. "It
must be an interesting document; and I am curious to hear what it is
that you consider a model for epistolary communi-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 161]
cation from an undergraduate to his maternal relative."
"Off she goes then;" observed Mr. Bouncer; "lend me your ears - list,
list, O list! as the recruiting-sergeant or some other feller says in
the Play. 'Now, my little dears! look straight for'ard - blow your
noses, and don't brathe on the glasses!'" and Mr. Bouncer read the
letter, interspersing it with explanatory observations:-
~" 'My dearest mother, - I have been quite well since I left you, and
I hope you and Fanny have been equally salubrious.~'- That's doing
the civil, you see: now we pass on to statistics. - '~We had rain the
day before yesterday, but we shall have a new moon to-night.~' - You
see, the Mum always likes to hear about the weather, so I get that
out of the Almanack. Now we get on to the interesting part of the
letter. - '~I will now tell you a little about Merton College.~' -
That's where I had just got to. We go right through the Guide Book,
you understand. - '~The history of this establishment is of peculiar
importance, as exhibiting the primary model of all the collegiate
bodies in Oxford and Cambridge. The statutes of Walter de Merton had
been more or less copied by all other founders in succession; and the
whole constitution of both Universities, as we now behold them, may
be, not without reason, ascribed to the liberality and munificence of
this truly great man.~' - Truly great man! that's no end good, ain't
it? observed Mr. Bouncer, in the manner of the 'mobled queen is good'
of Polonius. - '~His sagacity and wisdom led him to profit by the
spirit of the times; his opulence enabled him to lay the foundation
of a nobler system; and the splendour of his example induced others,
in subsequent ages, to raise a superstructure at once attractive and
solid.~' - That's piling it up mountaynious, ain't it? - '~The
students were no longer dispersed through the streets and lanes of
the city, dwelling in insulated houses, halls, inns, or hostels,
subject to dubious control and precarious discipline.~' - That's
stunnin', isn't it? just like those ~Times~ fellers write. - '~But
placed under the immediate superintendence of tutors and governors,
and lodged in comfortable chambers. This was little less than an
academical revolution; and a new order of things may be dated from
this memorable era. Love to Fanny; and, believe me your affectionate
Son, Henry Bouncer.~' - If the Mum don't say that's first-rate, I'm a
Dutchman! You see, I don't write very close, so that this
respectably fills up three sides of a sheet of note-paper. Oh,
here's something over the leaf. '~P.S. I hope Stump and Rowdy have
got something for me, because I want some tin very bad.~' That's
all! Well, Giglamps! don't you call that quite a model letter for a
University man to send to his tender parient?"
"It certainly contains some interesting information," said our Hero,
with a Quaker-like indirectness of reply.
[162 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"It seems to me, Harry," said Charles Larkyns, "that the pith of it,
like a lady's letter, lies in the postscript - the demand for money."
"You see," observed the little gentleman in explanation, "Stump and
Rowdy are the beggars that have got all my property till I come of
age next year; and they only let me have money at certain times,
because it's what they facetiously call ~tied-up~: though ~why~
they've tied it up, or ~where~ they've tied it up, I hav'nt the
smallest idea. So, though I tick for nearly everything, - for men at
College, Giglamps, go upon tick as naturally as the crows do on the
sheep's backs, - I sometimes am rather hard up for ready dibs; and
then I give the Mum a gentlemanly hint of this, and she tips me.
By-the-way," continued Mr. Bouncer, as he re-read his postscript, "I
must alter the word 'tin' into 'money'; or else she'll be taking it
literally, just as she did with the ponies. Know what a pony is,
Giglamps?"
"Why, of course I do," replied Mr. Verdant Green; "besides which, I
have kept one: he was an Exmoor pony, - a bay one, with a long tail."
"Oh, Giglamps! You'll be the death of me some fine day," faintly
exclaimed little Mr. Bouncer, as he slowly recovered from an
exhausting fit of laughter. "You're as bad as the Mum was. A pony
means twenty-five pound, old feller. But the Mum didn't know that;
and when I wrote to her and said, 'I'm very short; please to send me
two ponies;' meaning, of course, that I wanted fifty pound; what must
she do, but write <VG162.JPG> back and say, that, with some
difficulty, she had procured for me two Shetland ponies, and that, as
I was short, she hoped they would suit my size. And, before I had
time to send her another letter, the two little beggars came. Well,
I couldn't ride them both at once, like the fellers do at Astley's;
so I left one at Tollitt's, and I rode the other down the High, as
cool as a cucumber. You see, though I ain't a giant, and that, yet I
was big for the pony; and as Shelties are rum-looking little beggars,
I dare say we look'd rather queer and original. But the Proctor
happened to see me; and he cut up so doosed rough about it, that I
couldn't show on the Shelties any
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 163]
more; and Tollitt was obliged to get rid of them for me."
"Well, Harry," said Charles Larkyns, "it is to Tollitt's that you
must now go, as you keep your horse there. We want you to join us in
a ride."
"What!" cried out Mr. Bouncer, "old Giglamps going outside an Oxford
hack once more! Why, I thought you'd made a vow never to do so
again?" <VG163.JPG>
"Why, I certainly did so," replied Mr. Verdant Green; "but Charles
Larkyns, during the holidays - the vacation, at least - was kind
enough to take me out several rides; so I have had a great deal of
practice since last term."
"And you don't require to be strapped on, or to get inside and pull
down the blinds?" inquired Mr. Bouncer.
"Oh dear, no!"