Part 23 (1/2)

[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 cla.s.sics: 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 cla.s.sical 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 pa.s.sion 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 f.a.n.n.y at home: f.a.n.n.y'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 amus.e.m.e.nt blended with information; and that's more than you can say of most men's letters to the Home department.”

”c.o.c.ky 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 n.o.ble sport of c.o.c.k-fighting, for which he had a most unamiable and unenviable weakness; that was the reason why he was called 'c.o.c.ky'

Palmer. His elder brother - who was a Pembroke man - was distinguished by the p.r.o.nomen 'Snuffy,' to express his excessive partiality for that t.i.tillating compound.”

”And Snuffy Palmer,” remarked Mr. Bouncer, ”was a long sight better feller than c.o.c.ky, who was in the very worst set in Brazenface. But c.o.c.ky did the Wheatley dodge once too often, and it was a good job for the King of Oude when his friend c.o.c.ky 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 c.o.c.ky Palmer's, and used to go with him to the c.o.c.k-fights at Wheatley - that village just on the other side Shotover Hill - where we did a 'const.i.tutional' the other day. c.o.c.ky, 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 c.o.c.ky 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 doc.u.ment; and I am curious to hear what it is that you consider a model for epistolary communi-

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 161]