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

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СКАЧАТЬ Derby was beginning to fade from Mr. Verdant Green's mind, little Mr. Bouncer entering his room with a newspaper in his hand, said, "Giglamps, old fellow! your dark horse has been scratched."

      "How cruel of them! why did they scratch it?" asked the Freshman.

      "Oh, you sweet innocent!" laughed Mr. Bouncer. "The Knight's name has been scratched out of the list ​of horses for the Derby; so your fifteen pounds would n't have made your fortune. However, there was a good end to that business; and we 'll let bygones alone. What a splendiferous weedcase this is!" he said, as he took a cigar out of a blue velvet case that had been presented to him by Verdant Green, as a souvenir of the Blucher Boots transactions. "I think I was the only gainer by your book on the Derby."

      "I gained experience and a lesson for life," said Verdant.

      "So you did; and that 's worth something," replied Mr. Bouncer.

      The days went by, and the end of the Term had arrived; but Mr, Verdant Green had not received another invitation to breakfast with Mr. Blucher Boots, nor had Lord Balmoral's son in any way condescended to notice him; in fact, when he next met him in the High Street he stared him full in the face, and cut him dead; the which Verdant by no means took sadly to heart, but ate his dinner that day in Hall as heartily as usual. But if he did not further cultivate an acquaintance with the Hon. Blucher Boots, he had made other friendships that would be more agreeable to him; and on the last morning but one of the summer Term he found himself at a breakfast party in little Mr. Bouncer's rooms, in company with his old friend Charles Larkyns, Mr. Flexible Shanks, Mr. Smalls, Mr. Blades, Mr. Fosbrooke, and others—in all a goodly company, blessed with good appetites and animal spirits. Perhaps there are no breakfasts more enjoyable than a College breakfast at the close of a Term, when the guests have not to run away to Lectures, and to prematurely part with their provisions in order to assume a forced acquaintanceship with Greek ​and Latin writers, or, still worse, with Euclid and mixed mathematics. On the present occasion, at little Mr. Bouncer's breakfast, they were able to partake of the good things provided for the occasion, and to linger over them with pleasurable zest.

      The table presented the usual medley of eatables and drinkables, in which coffee and beer-cup, chickens and claret-cup, moselle and pigeon-pie, mutton cutlets and sardines, curaçoa and potted char, beef-steaks and grilled fish, cocoa and caviar, devilled kidneys and omelettes, anchovy toast and sangaree, found a place among various other refreshments, both heavy and light, that were fast disappearing before the attacks of the bevy of hungry undergraduates. Through the open windows was caught a glimpse of the City of Colleges, bathed in the radiant streams of summer sunshine, every turreted tower and soaring spire standing out clear and sharp against the blue sky. The grand avenue of limes for which Brazenface is celebrated, was filled with a murmur of bees. Below was the smoothly-shaven turf in the centre of the Quad, with the Hall on the one side, the Chapel on the other, and on either hand the rows of mullioned, heavy-headed windows, at some of which the unaccustomed sight was seen of young girls peering into the court below—an unusual but pretty look-out at Brazenface. For it had been the Commemoration week, when the feminine element puts in a strong appearance in Oxford, and for a few days in the year enlivens the old grey colleges with pretty pictures of beauty and fashion, and brightens up the rooms of happy undergraduates, of learned tutors, of stately dons, and miserable Fellows, whose tantalising lot it is to look and admire, but not to marry, under pain of resigning their ​incomes. So at many windows there were pleasant visions of dimpled cheeks and rosy lips and flashing eyes, and through many a casement came the sound of girlish laughter; but these sights and sounds were absent from Mr. Bouncer's rooms.

      "I could n't get the Mum and Fanny to come," he said, referring to his mother and sister; "though I held out, as an inducement, that I would introduce them to you, Giglamps. That will be a treat in store, won't it? You must come and see us during the Long at our little shop in the country." In another day the Long Vacation would begin; and just at the time when the chief ​portion of its population was about to run away from it, Oxford was looking at its best.

      The confused talk at Mr. Bouncer's breakfast-table was somewhat settling down into more regular conversation, as pipes and cigars were lighted, and a perfumed cloud began to float through the room and mingle its scent with the aroma of coffee and spiced ale. Huz

      and Buz were making themselves happy with platefuls of chicken-bones, and their master was lolling at his ease, with his legs stretched over the arm of his easy-chair. Verdant Green and the greater portion of the guests lingered at the table, while others looked out of the windows, enjoying a smoke and the prospect—the latter including pleasant glimpses of the young ladies who appeared at the opened windows of rooms whose owners were, in that respect, more fortunate than was little Mr. Bouncer.

      But what was said on that occasion by himself and his friends must be told in another chapter.

      CHAPTER VI.

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      CHAPTER VI.

      LITTLE MR. BOUNCER ENTERTAINS HIS FRIENDS, AND IS ENTERTAINED BY THEM.

      IELDING themselves willingly to the pleasures of the hour and the enjoyments of the breakfast-table, little Mr. Bouncer's guests made themselves happy in each other's company, knowing that on the morrow they would all be leaving Oxford, and would be travelling north, south, east, and west, preparatory to making more extensive (as well as expensive) tours on the Continent and elsewhere, and otherwise beguiling the months of the Long Vacation, until October should once again see them reassembled in their beautiful City of Colleges.

      In the interval, Brazenface would be given up to scouts and bed-makers; and while Mr. Robert Filcher would stand as umpire at a scouts' cricket-match, Mrs. Tester would preside at a tea-party in the porter's lodge. Workmen would also be whistling and shouting for "mortar" in the passages and on the staircases where the "mortar-boards" were daily seen during Term-time; the necessary repairs would be effected; the burnt plank where a lighted cigar had been dropped, and whereby the College had been nearly set on fire, would ​be replaced; the yellow coruscation would be removed from the wall where an egg that had been playfully shied at a Freshman's head had missed its mark but left a stain; whitewash would also obliterate the various works of art, executed in burnt cork, on the

      staircase walls, by little Mr. Bouncer and other ameteurs, in which grandeur of effect and satirical expression were sought for, rather than delicacy of execution and flattery of portraiture; the smashed panel, through which a small but highly obnoxious Freshman had been propelled, would be made good; twisted gas-pipes would be repaired, and Brazenface would be put into apple-pie order.

      Though it seemed to stand in little need of ​improvement, as it looked at the present moment, with the bright June sun shining full upon it, and with the unwonted bits of gay colour gleaming here and there from the dresses of the ladies, as they appeared at some of the mullioned windows, or strolled across those grass-plats which might not be trodden on by the feet of undergraduates. Cheery talk and laughter were also borne to the ear from Quads and СКАЧАТЬ