Little Mr. Bouncer; and Tales of College Life Little Mr Bouncer and His Friend Verdant Green. Cuthbert Bede

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СКАЧАТЬ away; but he asked me to stop, and have a weed with him; and I did so, because I was all right for Lectures, having posted an Æger."

      "Posted an Æger!" echoed Mr. Bouncer. "My gum, Giglamps, you 're coming it, for a Freshman. You pretend to be Æger, or sick and peaky, when you 're in robust health. And then, after your Æger breakfast where, of course, you behaved yourself like a sick man ought to do, and had nothing but tea and dry toast—what came next?"

      "Then Blucher Boots and I were left alone, and he was very friendly and pleasant, and asked me about Warwickshire, and places that I knew; and his claret-cup was very nice; and he talked a good deal about horses and races, and the odds."

      "Odd if he would n't!" said little Mr. Bouncer, puffing at his cigar; "I know his horsey proclivities. And then he offered to make your Derby book?"

      ​"Well," replied Mr. Verdant Green—as people often do when they are speaking of something that is not at all well, but bad—"something like it. He told me that he had a friend who had been kind enough to tell him, quite in confidence, which horse is to win the Derby. It is not the favourite; but it is a horse that, at present, is not much talked about. He said it was a dark horse; but whether a black or a brown, I don't know."

      Little Mr. Bouncer involuntarily winked his eye, and smiled, as though he would direct an imaginary companion's attention, and say, "Oh, here 's a go!" but his Freshman friend was too much engaged in his narrative to notice the action.

      "And Blucher Boots' friend," continued Verdant, "has kept his eye on the horse for a long time, and has seen him tried on a private course, and is in a particular position to obtain correct information on the subject. And Blucher Boots himself has seen this dark horse, whose name I may tell you—but of course, in the strictest confidence."

      "Of course! the very strictest of the strict, Giglamps! I 'll be as dark as the horse."

      "His name is 'The Knight.'"

      "That Knight ought to be ridden by Day, ought n't he? Oh, Day and Knight, but this is wondrous strange! as Shikspur says." And the countenance of little Mr. Bouncer, as he watched Mr. Verdant Green, was quite a study.

      "And," continued that innocent gentleman, "Blucher Boots, to use his own expression; is sweet upon The Knight, and is firmly convinced that no other horse, not even the favourite, has the slightest chance to win the race from him. So that he is going to support him to ​the best of his ability, and said that he should put a pot of money on him—an expression that I do not fully comprehend."

      "It means," explained Mr. Bouncer, "that the money he will bet on the dark horse will go to the pot—that is, will be all U. P. and done for; like classical parties, who, when dead, were burnt, and had their ashes put into pots or urns." The little gentleman knocked off the ash of his cigar, and asked, "And what did B. B., which stands for Bad Boy, do then?"

      "Why, then he spoke about having made his book for the Derby, and that he had done it so cleverly, and on such a sure plan, that he must be a gainer even if The Knight did not win; although he thought such an event, was an impossibility. And then he offered to show me how to make a book; and I tried to comprehend him, but I could not do so; although I fear that I gave him to understand that his explanations were quite clear to me. And he rather confused me by referring to a sweep; and although I knew that, on a race-course, people must meet with all sorts of queer characters, yet I thought it rather odd that a nobleman's son should appear to be so familiar with a sweep. And he strongly advised me to do what seemed to me a very strange thing; and that was, to join him in a sweep."

      Little Mr. Bouncer chuckled to himself, and said, "I suppose, Giglamps, you took him for a cannibal of the Fa-fe-fi-fo-fum species; and, if you did, old fellow, you'd not be very far off the mark; for Blucher Boots would pick your bones as clean as a chicken, and get every shilling out of your pocket. He 's so hard up that he can scarcely rub two half-crowns against each other, and a sovereign might dance in his pocket ​without breaking its shins. Did he get anything out of you?"

      "I am sorry to say he did," sighed Mr. Verdant Green, with a retrospective glance at his past conduct. "He talked to me so much about my Derby book, and joining him in the sweep, and other things which I could not properly understand—and he put it to me in so many ways about the great advantages that I should secure by backing The Knight at long odds,—I think that was his expression—that, at last, when he asked me if I could oblige him with change for a five-pound note"—

      "I 'm interrupting you," said little Mr. Bouncer; "but, did you see that five-pound note, Giglamps?"

      "No; I did not."

      "If you had, you would have seen what his creditors have not yet been privileged to witness, much less to handle," observed Mr. Bouncer. "Well, young 'un, go ahead!"

      "And I told him that I could not change him the note; for, curiously enough, I myself wanted change for a five-pound note; my papa—I mean, my Governor—having, that morning, sent me, in a letter, three five-pound notes. And, when Blucher Boots asked if I had got the notes with me, I said 'Oh, yes!' and pulled them out of my pocket-book. And he said that they had been sent most opportunely, and that I could n't do better than to let him lay them out for me; and that they would bring me in ever so much more. And he, in fact—that is to say," stammered Mr. Verdant Green, as he somewhat hesitated to make a full disclosure of the truth, even to his friend—"in short—I—at last I handed them to him."

      ​"What! you gave Blucher Boots the three five-pound notes? My gum, Giglamps!" Little Mr. Bouncer did not say much. Perhaps, like the monkeys, he thought the more. There was a silence for a few minutes. Mr.

      Verdant Green sat in a dejected posture, with his head leaning upon his hand. Mr. Bouncer puffed savagely at his cigar; flung the stump out of the window; hit Buz abstractedly, yet sharply, with his post-horn, causing that canine monster to show his teeth in a highly threatening way; and, at length, said, "I don't wonder, Giglamps, that you look in a blue funk!"

      Although Mr. Verdant Green attached very indefinite ideas as to the nature and sensations of a "blue ​funk"—a subject on which Gainsborough's "Blue Boy" might have been able to throw some light—yet, the phrase sounded ominously in his ears, and, if possible, plunged him yet deeper into the deep waters of his trouble.

      CHAPTER III.

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      CHAPTER III.

      LITTLE MR. BOUNCER TAKES MEASURES TO BEFRIEND MR. VERDANT GREEN.

      ECOVERING somewhat from the prostration of that "blue funk" with which, according to little Mr. Bouncer, Mr. Verdant Green appeared to be overcome, the Oxford Freshman resumed his explanation, mingled with an apology for the conduct both of himself and Mr. Blucher Boots.

      "He only borrowed those three five-pound notes: they were not for himself, you must understand; but were for my own Derby book, and were to be used in bets on my behalf. Blucher Boots said that he was quite sure of winning. He had calculated the odds according to mathematical rules; and, whether The Knight won or lost, he himself would be a winner, and, of course, I should go shares with him. And, it СКАЧАТЬ