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

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СКАЧАТЬ If it did not improve his appearance, that was not his fault, but was a matter for the rulers of the University to rescind their statute "

       De Vestitu

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      In less than half an hour after he had left Mr. Verdant Green's rooms, little Mr. Bouncer was knocking at a certain door on a particular staircase, where, as he had ascertained from the porter at the lodge of the College, the person of whom he was in quest "hung out;" so, at least, Mr. Bouncer phrased Mr. Blucher Boots' tenancy of the rooms in question.

      "If he thinks it 's the woodpecker tapping, he 'll be slightly deceived," said Mr. Bouncer to himself.

      "Come in!" was shouted from withinside the room; and Mr. Bouncer went in.

      CHAPTER IV.

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      CHAPTER IV.

      LITTLE MR. BOUNCER TROUBLES THE HON. BLUCHER BOOTS FOR AN EXPLANATION.

      HE room into which little Mr. Bouncer passed was not a room that was "hung around with pikes and guns and bows," like to that of the famous Fine Old English Gentleman of the national song, but it was furnished after the fashion of a room belonging to a young English gentleman of the modern time—more especially of that particular species of gentleman which is known as the Oxford Undergraduate. There certainly were "bows" in the room; for archery was then in fashion, especially at those colleges that possessed extensive lawns; and the Hon. Blucher Boots, as befitting a son of Lord Balmoral, was not to be behind in the fashions of the day. But, instead of "pikes and guns," there were pipes and meerschaums arranged on either side the fireplace, on fanciful shields carved and emblazoned by Margetts. And there were numerous sporting prints, and ​coloured hunting scenes, and Landseer's animals, and pretty feminine inanities, all in elegant gilt frames, from Ryman's or Wyatt's; and there were handscreens and fancy articles in papier maché, on which the artists of Messrs. Spiers and Son had drawn the glories of Oxford from their most picturesque points of view; and there were Parian statuettes, and vases, and china; and there were handsomely-bound volumes on rows of oaken book-shelves; and there were two or three pairs of antlers (convenient for the support of riding-whips, walking-sticks, and such like), the owners of which had fallen to Mr. Blucher Boots' unerring rifle, at Glenslipper, his father's shooting-box in Perthshire.

      The furniture of the room was an evidence that the occupant was a person of æsthetical tastes; and that he was either wealthy or was in a position to obtain unlimited credit for the various articles that he had gathered around him. If the son of a Commoner has facilities for doing so, the son of a Peer finds himself indulged to an extent that is seductive and dangerous; and Oxford tradesmen are almost the last persons who should be blamed for the evils of the credit system. Very often they themselves are the sufferers, and find that they have fallen victims to one who is, legally, "an infant."

      The Hon. Blucher Boots himself was one of these legal infants, and, physically speaking, was a tolerably fine specimen of the infant race. When, in compliance with his call "Come in!" little Mr. Bouncer entered his room, he was sitting in one of his numerous easy-chairs, "in gorgeous array," like Villikins' Dinah, with a scarlet Turkish fez on his head, and a crimson-and-blue-striped dressing-gown belted round his waist, the while he smoked a short black pipe and consulted a "Racing ​Calendar." He was by no means an ill-looking young man, although during his interview with Mr. Bouncer, his countenance could assume an expression that was the very reverse of prepossessing.

      "Good morning!" said little Mr. Bouncer, as he closed the door behind him. "I 'm lucky to find you in; and not only in, but alone."

      "The luck 's all on your side," sharply rejoined the other, who seemed to sniff a coming breeze.

      "Then I 'll make the most of my luck," said the intruder, as he flourished his battered cap by its tassel. "My name is Bouncer on the Grampian Hills, and also ​in Oxford—see Gazetteers and County Directories, passim. Henry Bouncer is my name; England is my nation; Brazenface is my dwelling place. You may have heard of me in the pages of History, although you don't seem to know me."

      "Don't know you from Adam," said Mr. Blucher Boots, stolidly.

      "Did you mention the name of Adam? I 'm not acquainted with that party, so can't tell if there 's any likeness between us," replied little Mr. Bouncer.

      "You 're a cool card," observed Mr. Blucher. Boots, as he puffed, somewhat savagely, at his short black pipe.

      "Perhaps so. I was n't born in a hurry; so I 've had time to look about me. But sitting 's as cheap as standing; so, if it 's all the same to you, I 'll sit down while we have our talkee-talkee—unless you charge for your chairs, like those fellows do in the Park; a penny to sit down on one, tuppence to put up your legs on another, and no reduction on taking a quantity."

      As Mr. Blucher Boots kept silence and went on smoking, little Mr. Bouncer sat down, and said, "You could remember me, I dare say, if you chose to do so. We met; 't was in a crowd—at Fosbrooke's rooms—and I thought you had done me; I 've come, and you don't move, though your eye is upon me. I 'd my eye upon you, that night; for I dropped the best part of a fiver to you, at Van John, when you were slightly lucky in turning up aces."

      "Do you mean to insinuate"——began Lord Balmoral's son, with a flushed face and angry scowl.

      "Oh, dear, no! don't put yourself about, and get waxy, and make yourself as red as your fez; I don't ​insinuate anything," said Mr. Bouncer. "Some people have a certain person's luck; and that seemed to be your case. But, it was not so much the aces as the betting. You 're a first-rate hand at laying odds; I 'll

      give you credit for that; for I like to give every man his due. And that 's the business that 's brought me here. I think you know a Brazenface man of the name of Verdant Green?"

      "A Freshman?"

      "Something like one. He is a particular friend of mine."

      ​"I can't compliment you upon your acquaintance," sneered Mr. Blucher Boots.

      "Never mind that; I don't care for empty compliments," replied little Mr. Bouncer, sticking up for his absent friend. "Verdant Green 's not at all a bad sort, though a trifle fresh—as you have found out. And, to come to the point, it seems to me that you have been taking an undue advantage of his freshness and inexperience."

      "I don't know by what right you intrude into my rooms, and read me a lecture," said Mr. Blucher Boots. "But before I kick you out"——

      "Kick me out?" echoed Mr. Bouncer. "Two can play at that game, my beauty; and I don't think your shoemaker will ever become acquainted with my tailor."

      "——you may as well enlighten me," continued Mr. Blucher Boots, puffing at his pipe, "as to the supposed advantage that I have taken of your friend's freshness."

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