Part 3 (1/2)
”But I've got nothing of the sort, sir; I must request you to keep your dog--” A violent fit of coughing, caused by a well-directed volley of smoke from his neighbour's lips, put a stop to Mr. Green's expostulations.
”I hope my weed is no annoyance?” said the gentleman; ”if it is, I will throw it away.”
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 27]
To which piece of politeness Mr. Green could, of course, only reply, between fits of coughing, ”Not in the least I - a.s.sure you, - I am very fond - of tobacco - in the open air.”
”Then I daresay you'll do as we are doing, and smoke a weed yourself,” said the gentleman, as he offered Mr. Green a plethoric cigar-case. But Mr. Green's expression of approbation regarding tobacco was simply theoretical; so he treated his neighbour's offer as magazine editors do the MSS. of unknown contributors - it was ”declined with thanks.”
Mr. Verdant Green had already had to make a similar reply to a like proposal on the part of his left-hand neighbour, who was now expressing violent admiration for our hero's top-coat.
”Ain't that a good style of coat, Charley?” he observed to his neighbour. ”I wish I'd seen it before I got this over-coat! There's something sensible about a real, unadulterated top-coat; and there's a style in the way in which they've let down the skirts, and put on the velvet collar and cuffs regardless of expense, that really quite goes to one's heart. Now I daresay the man that built that,” he said, more particularly addressing the owner of the coat, ”condescends to live in a village, and waste his sweetness on the desert air, while a n.o.ble field might be found for his talent in a University town. That coat will make quite a sensation in Oxford. Won't it, Charley?”
And when Charley, quoting a popular actor (totally unknown to our hero), said, ”I believe you, my bo-oy!” Mr. Verdant Green began to feel quite proud of the abilities of their village tailor, and thought what two delightful companions he had met with. The rest of the journey further cemented (as he thought) their friends.h.i.+p; so that he was fairly astonished, when on meeting them the next day they stared him full in the face, and pa.s.sed on without taking any more notice of him. But freshmen cannot learn the mysteries of college etiquette in a day.
However, we are antic.i.p.ating. They had not yet got to Oxford, though, from the pace at which they were going, it appeared as if they would soon reach there; for the coachman had given up his seat and the reins to the box-pa.s.senger, who appeared to be as used to the business as the coachman himself; and he was now driving them, not only in a most scientific manner, but also at a great pace. Mr.
Green was not particularly pleased with the change in the four-wheeled government; but when they went down a hill at a quick trot, the heavy luggage making the coach rock to and fro with the speed, his fears increased painfully. They culminated, as the trot increased into a canter, and then broke into a gallop as they swept along the level road at the bottom of the hill, and rattled up the rise of another. As the horses walked over the brow
[28 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
of the hill, with smoking flanks and jingling harness, Mr. Green recovered sufficient breath to expostulate with the coachman for suffering - ”a mere lad,” he was about to say <vg028.jpg> but fortunately checked himself in time, - for suffering any one else than the regular driver to have the charge of the coach. ”You never fret yourself about that, sir,” replied the man; ”I knows my bis'ness, as well as my dooties to self and purprietors, and I'd never go for to give up the ribbins to any party but wot had showed hisself fitted to 'andle 'em. And I think I may say this for the genelman as has got 'em now, that
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 29]
he's fit to be fust vip to the Queen herself; and I'm proud to call him my p.o.o.ple. Why, sir, - if his honour here will pardon me for makin' so free, - this 'ere gent is Four-in-hand Fosbrooke, of which you ~must~ have heerd on.”
Mr. Green replied that he had not had that pleasure.
”Ah! a pleasure you ~may~ call it, sir, with parfect truth,” replied the coachman; ”but, lor bless me, sir, weer ~can~ you have lived?”
The ”p.o.o.ple” who had listened to this, highly amused, slightly turned his head, and said to Mr. Green, ”Pray don't feel any alarm, sir; I believe you are quite safe under my guidance. This is not the first time by many that I have driven this coach, - not to mention others; and you may conclude that I should not have gained the ~sobriquet~ to which my worthy friend has alluded without having ~some~ pretensions to a knowledge of the art of driving.”
Mr. Green murmured his apologies for his mistrust, - expressed perfect faith in Mr. Fosbrooke's skill - and then lapsed into silent meditation on the various arts and sciences in which the gentlemen of the University of Oxford seemed to be most proficient, and pictured to himself what would be his feelings if he ever came to see Verdant driving a coach! There certainly did not appear to be much probability of such an event; but can any ~pater familias~ say what even the most carefully brought up young Hopeful will do when he has arrived at years of indiscretion?
Altogether, Mr. Green did not particularly enjoy the journey.
Besides the dogs and cigars, which to him were equal nuisances, little Mr. Bouncer was perpetually producing unpleasant post-horn effects, - which he called ”sounding his octaves,” - and destroying the effect of the airs on the guard's key-bugle, by joining in them at improper times and with discordant measures. Mr. Green, too, could not but perceive that the majority of the conversation that was addressed to himself and his son (though more particularly to the latter), although couched in politest form, was yet of a tendency calculated to ”draw them out” for the amus.e.m.e.nt of their fellow-pa.s.sengers. He also observed that the young gentlemen severally exhibited great capacity for the beer of Ba.s.s and the porter of Guinness, and were not averse even to liquids of a more spirituous description. Moreover, Mr. Green remarked that the ministering Hebes were invariably addressed by their Christian names, and were familiarly conversed with as old acquaintances; most of them receiving direct offers of marriage or the option of putting up the banns on any Sunday in the middle of the week; while the inquiries after their grandmothers and the various members of their family circles were both numerous and gratifying. In
[30 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
all these verbal encounters little Mr. Bouncer particularly distinguished himself.
Woodstock was reached: ”Four-in-hand Fosbrooke” gave up the reins to the professional Jehu; and at last the towers, spires, and domes of Oxford appeared in sight. The first view of the City of Colleges is always one that will be long remembered. Even the railway traveller, who enters by the least imposing approach, and can scarcely see that he is in Oxford before he has reached Folly Bridge, must yet regard the city with mingled feelings of delight and surprise as he looks across the Christ Church meadows and rolls past the Tom Tower. But he who approaches Oxford from the Henley Road, and looks upon that unsurpa.s.sed prospect from Magdalen Bridge, - or he who enters the city, as Mr. Green did, from the Woodstock Road, and rolls down the shady avenue of St. Giles', between St. John's College and the Taylor Buildings, and past the graceful Martyrs' Memorial, will receive impressions such as probably no other city in the world could convey.
As the coach clattered down the Corn-market, and turned the corner by Carfax into High Street, Mr. Bouncer, having been compelled in deference to University scruples to lay aside his post-horn, was consoling himself by chanting the following words, selected probably in compliment to Mr. Verdant Green.
”To Oxford, a Freshman so modest, I enter'd one morning in March; And the figure I cut was the oddest, All spectacles, choker, and starch.
Whack fol lol, lol iddity, &c.
From the top of 'the Royal Defiance,'