INSTALLED AT BRASENOSE.
Master Cripps was accustomed mainly to daylight roads and open ways.
It was true that he had a good many corners to turn between Beckley
and Oxford, whether his course were through Elsfield and Marston, or
the broader track from Headington. But for all sharp turns he had two
great maxims--keep on the proper side, and go slowly. By virtue of
these, he had never been damaged himself, or forced to pay damages;
and when he was in a pleasant vein, at the Dusty Anvil, or anywhere
else, it was useless to tell him that any mischance need happen to a
man who heeded this--that is to say, if he drove a good horse, and saw
to the shoeing of the nag himself. Of course there was also the will
of the Lord. But that was quite sure to go right, if you watched it.
If he has any good substance in him, a man who spends most of his
daylight time in the company of an honest horse, is sure to improve so
much that none of his bad companions know him--supposing that he ever
had any. The simplicity and the good will of the horse, his faith in
mankind, and his earnest desire to earn his oats, and have plenty of
them; also the knowledge that his time is short, and his longest worn
shoes will outlast him; and that when he is dead, quite another must
be bought, who will cost twice as much as he did--these things (if any
sense can be made of them) operate on the human mind, in a measure,
for the most part, favourable.
Allowance, therefore, must be made for Master Leviticus Cripps and his
character, as often as it is borne in mind that he, from society of
good horses, was (by mere mischance of birth) fetched down to
communion with low hogs. Not that hogs are in any way low, from a
properly elevated gazing-point; and taking, perhaps, the loftiest of
human considerations, they are, as yet, fondly believed to be much
better on a dish than horses.
But that--as Cripps would plainly put it--is neither here nor there
just now; and it is ever so much better to let a man make his own
excuses, which he can generally do pretty well.
"Cripps, well met!" cried Russel Overshute, seizing him by the apron,
as Zacchary stood at the corner of Ship Street, to shake his head
after his brother, who had made off down the Corn Market; "you are the
very man I want to see!"
"Lor' a mercy now, be I, your Worship? Well, there are not many
gentlemen as it does me more good to look at."
Without any flattery he might say that. It was good, after dealing
with a crooked man, to set eyes upon young Overshute. In his face
there was no possibility of lie, hidden thought, or subterfuge.
Whatever he meant was there expressed, in quick bold features, and
frank bright eyes. His tall straight figure, firm neck, and broad
shoulders helped to make people respect what he meant; moreover, he
walked as if he had always something in view before him. He never
turned round to look after a pretty girl, as weak young fellows do. He
admired a pretty girl very much; but had too much respect for her to
show it. He had made his choice, once for all in life; and his choice
was sweet Grace Oglander.
"I made sure of meeting you, Master Cripps; if not in the market, at
any rate where you put up your fine old horse. I like a man who likes
his horse. I want to speak to you quietly, Cripps."
"I am your man, sir. Goo where you plaiseth. Without no beckoning, I
be after you."
"There is nothing to make any fuss about, Cripps. And the whole world
is welcome to what I say, whenever there is no one else concerned. At
present, there are other people concerned;--and get out of the way,
you jackanapes!"
In symmetry with his advanced ideas, he should not have spoken
thus--but he spake it; and the eavesdropper touched his hat, and made
off very hastily.
Russel was not at all certain of having quite acted up to his better
lights, and longed to square up all the wrong with a shilling; but,
with higher philosophy, suppressed that foolish yearning. "Now,
Cripps, just follow me," he said.
The Carrier grumbled to himself a little, because of all his parcels,
and the change he was to call for somewhere, and a woman who could not
make up her mind about a bullock's liver--not to think of more
important things in every other direction. No one thought nothing of
the value of his time; every bit the same as if he was a lean old
horse turned out to grass! In spite of all that, Master Cripps did his
best to keep time with the long legs before him. Thus was he led
through well-known ways to the modest gate of Brasenose, which being
passed, he went up a staircase near the unpretentious hall of that
very good society. "Why am I here?" thought Cripps, but, with his
usual resignation, added, "I have aseed finer places nor this." This,
in the range of his great experience, doubtless was an established
truth. But even his view of the breadth of the world received a little
twist of wonder, when over a narrow dark doorway, which Mr. Overshute
passed in silence, he read--for read he could--these words, "Rev.
Thomas Hardenow." "May I be danged," said Cripps, "if I ever come
across such a queer thing as this here be!"
However, he quelled his emotions and followed the lengthy-striding
Overshute into a long low room containing uncommonly little furniture.
There was no one there, except Overshute, and a scout, who flitted
away in ripe haste, with an order upon the buttery.
"Now, Cripps, didst thou ever taste college ale?" Mr. Overshute asked,
as he took a chair like the dead bones of Ezekiel. "Master Carrier,
here thou hast the tokens of a new and important movement. In my time,
chairs were comfortable. But they make them now, only to mortify the
flesh."
"Did your Worship mean me to sit down?" asked Cripps, touching the
forelock which he kept combed for that purpose.
"Certainly, Cripps. Be not critical; but sit."
"I thank your Worship kindly," he answered with little cause for
gratitude. "I have a-druv many thousand mile on a seat no worse nor
this, perhaps."
"Your reservation is wise, my friend. Your driving-board must have
been velvet to this. But the new lights are not in our Brewery yet. If
they get there, they will have the worst of it. Here comes the
tankard! Well done, old Hooper. Score a gallon to me for my family."
"With pleasure, sir," answered Hooper, truly, while he set on the
table a tray filled with solid luncheon. "Ah, I see you remember the
good old times, when there was those in this college, sir, that never
thought twice about keeping down the flesh; and better flesh, sir,
they had ever so much than these as are always a-doctoring of it. Ah,
when I comes to recall to my mind what my father said to me, when fust
he led me in under King Solomon's nose--'Bob, my boy,' he says to
me----"
"Now, Hooper, I know that his advice was good. The fruit thereof is in
yourself. You shall tell me all about it the very next time I come to
see you."
"Ah, they never cares now to hearken," said Hooper to himself, as,
with the resignation of an ancient scout, he coughed, and bowed, and
stroked the cloth, and contemplated Cripps with mild surprise, and
then made a quiet exit. As for listening at the door, a good scout
scorns such benefit. He likes to help himself to something more solid
than the words behind him.
"If I may make so bold," said the Carrier, after waiting as long as he
could, with Overshute clearly forgetting him; "what was it your
Worship was going to tell me? Time is going by, sir, and our horse
will miss his feeding."
"Attend to your own, Cripps, attend to your own. I beg your pardon for
not helping you. But that you can do for yourself, I dare say. I am
trying to think out something. I used to be quick; I am very slow
now."
Cripps made a little face at this, to show that the ways of his
betters had good right to be beyond him; and then he stood upon his
sturdy bowed legs, and turned a quick corner of eye at the door, in
fear of any fasting influence, and seeing nothing of the kind, with
pleasure laid hold of a large knife and fork.
"Lay about you, Cripps, my friend; lay about you to your utmost." So
said Mr. Overshute, himself refusing everything.
"Railly now, I dunno, your Worship, how to get on, all a-ating by
myself. Some folk can, and some breaks down at it. I must have
somebody to ate with me--so be it was only now a babby, or a dog."
"I thank you for the frank comparison, Cripps. Well, help me, if you
must--ah, I see you can carve."
"I am better at the raw mate, sir; but I can make shift when roasted.
Butcher Numbers my brother, your Worship--but perhaps you never heered
on him?"
"Oh yes, I know, Cripps. A highly respectable thriving man he is too.
All your family thrive, and everybody speaks so well of them. Why,
look at Leviticus! They tell me he has three hundred pigs!"
Like most men who have the great gift of gaining good will and
popularity, Russel Overshute loved a bit of gossip about his
neighbours.
"Your Worship," said Cripps, disappointing him of any new information,
"pigs is out of my way altogether. When I was a young man of tender
years, counteracted I was for to carry a pig. Three pounds twelve
shillings and four pence he cost me, in less than three-quarters of a
mile of road; and squeak, squeak, all the way, as if I was a-killing
of him, and not he me. Seemeth he smelled some apples somewhere, and
he went through a chaney clock, and a violin, and a set of first-born
babby-linen for Squire Corser's daughter; grown up now she is, your
Worship must a met her riding. And that was not the worst of it
nother----"
"Well, Cripps, you must tell me another time. It was terribly hard
upon you. But, my friend, the gentleman who lives here will be back
for his hat, when the clock strikes two. Cap and gown off, when the
clock strikes two. From two until five he walks fifteen miles,
whatever the state of the weather is."
"Lord bless me, your Worship, I could not travel that, with an empty
cart, and all downhill!"
"Never mind, Cripps. Will you try to listen, and offer no
observation?"
"To say nort,--does your Worship mean? Well, all our family be
esteemed for that."
"Then prove the justice of that esteem; for I have a long story to
tell you, Cripps, and no long time to do it in."