THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
/^
/
b''-
THE . / ^
CAMBRIDGE FRESHMAN:
OR,
MEMOIRS CF MR. GOLIGHTLY.
BY
MARTIN LEGRAND.
SHith mtmcrflus iUustniticns bp ^\\\z.
LONDON :
TINSLEY BROTHERS, CATHERINE STREET,
Strand.
1878.
■*
•^
LONDON:
sweeting and co., printer?,
80, gray's inn road, holborn.
C/t
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. — AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER, WHICH IMPATIENT
READERS MAY SKIP, BUT WHICH THE SENSIBLE
WILL CAREFULLY PURUSE .... I
,, II. — THE GOLIGHTLY FAMILY "AT HOME" . . 7
„ III. — IN WHICH MR. GOLIGHTLY STARTS FOR CAM-
BRIDGE, IN THE COMPANY OF HIS COUSIN
GEORGE AND THE HONOURABLE JOHN POKYR,
AND DULY ARRIVES THERE .... 21
,, IV. — SKIM. COLL., CAM 5°
„ V. — MR. GOLIGHTLY CONVEYS HIS IMPRESSION OF
CAMBRIDGE TO HIS FAMILY IN A CIRCULAR
LETTER 77
„ VI. — IN WHICH IT IS SATISFACTORILY EXPLAINED
HOW IT CAME TO PASS THAT MISS JANE SNEEK
APPEARED IN THE PLACE OF MISS BELLAIR . 93
,, VII. — IN THIS CHAPTER, OUR HERO MAKES THE AC-
QUAINTANCE OF A DESCENDANT OF THE IRISH
KINGS, WHO SOUNDS THE BUGL^OF WAR IN
HIS EARS ' . . . no
„ VIII. — AN INTERMEDIATE CHAPTER BETWEEN THE ONE
BEFORE IT AND THE ONE BEHIND IT . . 134
,, IX. — IN WHICH SOME SCENES FROM "THE RIVALS"
ARE ENACTED OFF THE STAGE . . • 14?
„ X. — CONSTABLES AND PEACEMAKERS . . . I'O
„ XI. — TREATS BOTH OF THE STABLE AND THE UNSTABLE 185
„ XII. — IN WHICH OUR HERO MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE
OF THE REVEREND PORSON PLUNKETT, M.A. . 204
7226M
If CONTENTS.
l>
PAGI
CHAP, xni.— CONTAINS MR, golightly's own account of
HIS introduction to the mutton cutlet
CLUB 223
XIV, — shows how poor little MR, POPHAM HAS A
NARROW ESCAPE OF BEING EATEN ' OF DOGS;
AND HOW HIS FRIEND, MR. SAMUEL GO-
LIGHTLY, COMES BOLDLY TO THE RESCUE . 237
XV. — OUR HERO PAYS A VISIT TO MR. GALLAGHER'S
ESTABLISHMENT AT SKY SCRAPER LODGE . 257
XVI. — MR. GOLIGHTLY QUITS ALMA MATER FOR OAK-
INGHAM RECTORY 279
XVII. — RECOUNTS AN INSTANCE OF CHARITY ILL-BE-
STOWED 288
XVIII. — OUR HERO PURSUES SCIENCE .... 308
XIX.— MR. SAMUEL ADOLPHUS GOLIGHTLY MAKES THE
ACQUAINTANCE OF THE WHOPPER . . . 322
XX. — OUR HERO FINDS A SEAT IN THE SENATE HOUSE
PLACED AT HIS DISPOSAL .... 338
XXI. — OUR HERO SPENDS THE EVENING AT A PERPEN-
DICULAR 354
XXII. — OUR HERO HAS DEALINGS WITH A JEW . . 363
XXIII. — MR. GOLIGHTLY RECEIVES FRIENDS . . . 374
X.\IV. — IN WIIICK OUR HISTORY 15 CONCLUDED . ;!>
CAMBRIDGE FRESHMAN;
OR,
MEMOIRS OF MR. GOLIGHTLY.
CHAPTER I.
AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER, WHICH IMPATIENT READERS
MAY SKIP, BUT WHICH THE SENSIBLE WILL CARE-
FULLY PERUSE.
HE Rector of Oakingham-cum-Pokeington
had made up his mind : his son and heir,
Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly, who had
just completed at home a careful preparation for a
University career, should be sent to Cambridge ;
and, with a bound from the general to the parti-
cular, the Rector had selected St. Mary's for his
college.
To this conclusion the Reverend Mr. Golightly
had not jumped with the haste that marks the pre.
B
The Cambridge Freshman; or^
cipitate man. He had duly deliberated. He had
discussed the weighty question with his brother,
the Squire, every time he had dined with him —
which was once a-week — for about six months
past. He had asked the advice of his curate, the
Reverend Mr. Morgan, many times ; though with-
out, on any single occasion, intending to be in the
most remote degree influenced by it. He had con-
sulted his two maiden sisters, the Misses Dorothea
and Harriet Golightly, who, when not at Bath,
Cheltenham, or Tonbridge, were in the habit of
pitching their tent at Oakingham E-ectory ; and,
as they were the happy possessors of large sums
safely invested in the Three per Cent. Consols,
greater attention was usually paid to their views
than was warranted by their intrinsic value when
actually arrived at — a process which was often no
easy task, and, indeed, on the present occasion was
the source of considerable trouble to their brother ;
as, after much consideration, Miss Harriet declared
decidedly in favour of Oxford and Christ Church,
while Miss Dorothea provokingly gave her opinion
for Cambridge and St. Mary's.
Their unhappy brother tried to reconcile these
conflicting opinions, but unfortunately failed ; and
as his sister Dorothea was ten years the senior of
Miss Harriet, and therefore, in the ordinary course
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
of nature, a transfer of her Consols would take
place first ; and, further, being of the mature age
of — now, I know I ought not to mention it, but I
shall venture this once — fifty-eight, it was highly
improbable that she would become " an unnatural
traitor to the interests of her family" by having
one of her own. Her opinion — a golden one —
turned the scale. For the Rector himself was in
favour of Cambridge, thinking it not so fast a
place as Oxford; though in this matter, I have
heard him declare, he was disagreeably deceived.
Mrs. Golightly, as in duty bound, assented. And,
lastly, our hero himself, whose illustrious name
illuminates the headings of these pages, professed
an entire readiness to set out for either place. For
his cousin George had often told him that, if the
governor and his two dear aunts only came down
in a manner suited to the dignity and position of
an ancient family, he would be able to make him-
self as much at home at one university as at the
other. But as cousin George — the son of his
uncle, the Squire — was then running the course of
his curriculum at Cambridge, our hero had a slight
leaning in favour of that seat of " sound learning
and religious education;" and it was, therefore,
with great pleasure that he learnt from his father
one day, at the dinner table, that momentous
B 2
The Cambridge Freshman ; or.
decision of the Rector's with which this chapter
commenced.
Before entering upon a minute and trustworthy
personal description of the various members of the
Golightly family, it will be well to say a few words
on the Golightlys in general.
Almost everybody will know — at least, every-
body who has ever talked for ten minutes to Miss
Dorothea Golightly — that the Loamshire Go-
lightlys are a branch — though a younger one, it
must be admitted — of the great Tredsoft family ;
of whom the present Lord Tredsoft, or Tredsofte —
or, as it is sometimes written, Treadsoft — is the
direct male representative ; and, of course, every-
body will know tha t Burke says that this family
can trace its pedigree to Edmund the Thick-
headed, who flourished about four hundred years
before the Norman Conquest ; and thence to Simon
Slyboots, who was surgeon corn-parer to Edmund
the Confessor; whence, through a long line of
illustrious ancestors, is sprung Adolphus, four-
teenth Earl Tredsoft.
It will be sufiicient to have shown that the
Tredsoft family is one of the oldest and most dis-
tinguished in England ; for to establish a connec-
tion between that particular branch of the Go-
lightlys with which we are concerned and the
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
noble earl whose pedigree Ave have just sketched
is a most difficult nut to crack. However, Miss
Dorothea is satisfied that it is quite clear, and not
to be disputed. Her case varies a little, according
to the state of her memory ; but the last time she
mentioned the matter it stood thus : " Her own
cousin, three times removed, was the grandnephew
of the Earl of Tredsoft's half-sister."
It will be a pleasant and instructive little pro-
blem, for such of our readers as are genealogists,
to solve the relationship subsisting between Mr.
Samuel Adolphus Golightly, the hero of this bio-
graphy, and the Right Honourable Lord Tredsoft,
from the data furnished above. Perhaps the arms
of our branch of the Golightly family may be of
some assistance in the matter. They are thus de-
scribed in Burke : —
Arms — Two thistle-eaters, as-
pectant, proper, on field vert;
tails borrie erect.
Crest — An arm issuant, holding
whip flectant.
No worthier member of the
family ever bore these arms, in
war and peace, than Mr. Samuel
Golightly, the grandfather of our
hero — and, consequently, the father of the Squire
The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
and the Eector. The tablet to his memory in
Oakingham Church records his virtues to this
day : — " He was a pious man, a faithful friend,
a generous landlord, a kind husband, and a good
father; and for many years a Captain in the
Militia in this county." All of which is, I be-
lieve, quite true. He had the good fortune to in-
herit a large estate from his father, and he came
into a handsome property at the death of his
mother. The former, which was entailed, of course
devolved upon his elder son, John, the present
Squire of Oakingham; and the latter he bequeathed
— subject only to the payment of some charitable
legacies — to his younger son, Samuel, who took
orders and the family living at Oakingham-cum-
Pokeington. Thus, the worthy gentleman had the
satisfaction of providing equally well for his two
sons, and also handsomely for his two daughters —
whose names have already been mentioned. Hav-
ing now made our readers acquainted with the
family history and position of the Golightlys, we
A^ill, in our next chapter, give them a personal in-
troduction to the various members of the family at
the Kectory.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
CHAPTER II.
THE GOLIGHTLY FAMILY "AT HOME."
HE worthy Rector had come to the decision
with which our first — and last — chapter
commenced, on no less remarkable a day
than the First of April. On the evening of
the Seventeenth of October, in the same year, it
was evident, from the stir in the house, that some-
thing was about to happen. The fact was, it was
Mr. Samuel Adolphus's last evening at home. On
the next day he was to leave the home of his an-
cestors, the bosom of his family, the arms of his
mamma, for the first time in his life. That lady
was anxious — as mas are on important occasions —
the maiden aunts were fidgety, our hero nervous,
the cook in tears, the coachman and butler in
spirits, and the other members of the establish-
ment in great bustle and confusion. Upon Mr.
Golightly, senior, alone did coming events seem
not to cast their shadows before ; and it was,
8 The Cavibridge Freshman; or,
perhaps, with rather more than his usual satis-
faction with himself and with things in gene-
ral, that, after having discussed a bottle of his
particular green-seal claret, accompanied by the
hopeful Samuel, he walked into his cheerful
drawing-room. And while Tufflcy, the butler, is
handing round the tea, we will indulge in a
hasty description of the different members of the
family.
Mr. Golightly, senior, was a short, stout gentle-
man, of middle age. His hair was of a sandy
gray — apparently undecided whether to remain
the colour it had always been, or to turn gra-
dually to some other; his whiskers, which were
abundant, were of a lighter tint — indeed, they
might almost be called a sandy white; his chin
was clean shaven, and appeared above a white
cravat; his face was right pleasant to behold,
being lighted up with good-humour, benevolence,
and, I may add, with quiet satisfaction. Em-
pires might fall, kings topple over, the vintage
of Chateau Margaux fail ; but the rector of Oak-
ingham-cum-Pokeington was still the Reverend
Samuel Golightly.
Mrs. Golightly was a lady tall, thin, and languid.
Her hair was auburn, with a tendency to red,
and was worn in ringlets, except on company
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
days, when, aided by her maid and pads, she
raised a superstructure of plaits and bandoline
edifying to witness. She had mild blue eyes
and an everlasting simper; was a friend to all
THE GOLIGHTLY FAMILY "AT HOME."
the deserving poor persons in the parish, and
took a great interest in poultry.
Near her sat Mr. Morgan, who had succeeded
lo The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
the former curate when it was thought that the
youthful Samuel Adolphus required a better stair-
case to Parnassus than that gentleman's tuition
afforded. From this it will be gathered that he
filled the position of curate and tutor. "Simple,
grave, sincere," he enjoyed the confidence and
returned the affection of all the family. The two
maiden aunts, the Misses Harriet and Dorothea,
were overcoming their feelings at parting from
their favourite nephew by playing at cribbage
for red and white counters, at two and sixpence
a dozen. Cribbage was a game to which they
usually sat down every evening, directly after
dinner, and played until bed-time ; unless they
left the cribbage board to join in a rubber of
whist with the Squire and their brother, or Mr.
Morgan. They were well-preserved women for
their time of life ; and Miss Harriet was still
really a comely lady. The elder sister's features
were stern and angular; but the younger took
after her brother, and possessed his benevolent
smile and light complexion. Miss Dorothea was
a lady of great determination, and had opinions
upon most subjects ; whereas, on the other hand,
Miss Harriet rarely expressed herself very de-
cidedly ; indeed, her mind, as a rule, was a faint,
though faithful, echo of Miss Dorothea's — a feeble
Memows of Mr. Go lightly. ii
dripping, as it were, from the reservoir of sense
and virtue that was enclosed in her elder sister.
However, with all respect be it said. Miss Harriet
could assert herself: when really t^p, her indepen-
dence amounted to obstinacy. These two ladies
were much attached to each other, and rarely
quarrelled, except at cards or over the affections
of their dear nephew, Samuel. This young
gentleman — before whom a brilliant career was
just opening — was leaning over the table at which
his aunts were sitting. He was tall, like his
mamma ; and fat, like his papa. His hair was
light and wavy. He was considered to have his
mamma's eyes and his papa's nose, quite his
grandpapa's mouth, and, without doubt, the family
chin. Like his mamma, he smiled at almost
everything that was said to him, and with all that
he said himself; and, altogether, his face, if not
indicative of genius, certainly gave early promise
of whiskers — and genius and whiskers are not un-
frequently to be found united in the same person.
I may add that, when at all excited or taken
by surprise, Mr. Samuel had a habit of hammer-
ing and stammering a little at certain consonant
sounds, which lent an individuality to his utter-
ance, and thence to his character, thereby relieving
it from the imputation of tameness. This habit
12 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
of hammering and stammering, his mamma attri-
buted to a fright he got in his early infant life,
through fancying he saw something in the dark;
but in this opinion neither his nurse nor Mr. Gub-
bett, the family surgeon, agreed. Now, Mr. Gub-
bett was acquainted professionally with a certain
Mr. Glibb, who possessed a valuable system or
method for the cure of persons afflicted with a
stutter; and as he assured the infant Samuel's
mamma that Lady Ralph Penthesilea had tried
it with great success upon Master Ralph Pen-
thesilea, and as the mention of Lady Ralph Pen-
thesilea's name alone carries great weight with
it in the estimation of Mrs. Golightly, it was
decided that Mr. Glibb should be at once con-
sulted; and he directed that Master Samuel should
be made to pronounce the Queen's English in
monosyllables, with his right hand resting upon
a table, and carefully putting down a finger upon
it at each syllable he spoke. And this may account
for his ideas still flowing rather slowly. Whether
Mr. Glibb's system, or increasing years and in-
telligence, produced the desirable result, I do not
know; but, within ten years after trying the
system, our hero's articulation had greatly im-
proved, and, at the time of which I write, was
as nearly perfect as could be expected.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. i
o
Tuffley having now removed the tea-cups, the
Rector endeavoured to resume, in the drawino--
room, the important duty he had commenced in
the dining-room — namely, putting a final touch
to those precepts which were to mould, and that
practical advice which was to guide, his son
through the snares and pitfalls of an unfeeling
and designing world. He stationed himself upon
that rostra from which an English Paterfamilias
most easily and happily delivers himself of his
sentiments — namely, upon his own hearth-rug,
with his back to his own fire, and with his hands
well supporting his own coat-tails. His son and
heir stood beside him in an attitude of rapt
attention; but, as his maiden aunts had not quite
finished their last game at cribbage, and Mrs.
Golightly was refreshing Mr. Morgan's memory
of what — as she had often before told him — was
her opinion of what a silver-pencilled Hamburg
should be when in perfection, the Rector was
sensible that his Platonic sentences hardly fell
upon the ears of young Samuel with their due
weight. In fact, for some few moments, the con-
versation had been after this sort — our hero stand-
ing on a particular square of the carpet, where he
must perforce hear all that was said in the room: —
The Rector: "It is my particular wish — I might
14 The Ca7nbridge FresJiman; or,
almost go the length of saying command — that you
should, immediately on your arrival — "
Mrs. Golightly: "Send a pen of fowls to the
Birmingham Show."
The Kector: "Call upon an old friend of mine,
named Smith. You will be sure to hear people
say — "
Miss Dorothea : " Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen
six, a pair eight, two are ten, and one for his
nob."
The Rector (going on from where he had left
off): "Where he lives. He always used to say — "
Miss Dorothea: "Come, hand over the counters.
You see, this makes me out: twenty-four and
seven's a leg."
Now, "seven's a leg" was a little family bit
of fun, which the elder sister always rebuked the
younger sister for using when she was out of
temper, but used herself whenever she was in a
good temper — that is, in good luck. The old
militia Captain — whose virtues we recorded before
— was, amongst other of "the ills that flesh is heir
to," a great sufferer from the gout, which he per-
sistently aggravated by immoderate doses of port,
doctored up from a recipe upon which he set a
high value ; and being a great cribbage player —
for with the Golightlys cribbage has become quite
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 15
an hereditary game, and comes to them as natu-
rally as going to church or going to bed — he used
to alleviate his sufferings, during the attacks of his
enemy, by playing at his favourite game. And it
is a well-authenticated tradition in the family, that
one day — the gout in his left extremity being more
excruciating than usual — he called out, dropping
his cards at the same time in order to seize and
comfort the afflicted member, "twenty-four, and
seven's a legT Thus it arose, then, that, on this
particular evening, Miss Dorothea — his daughter
— finished her game with " twenty- four and seven's
a leg" And the conclusion of the game and the
end of Mrs. Gohghtly's dissertation concerning
prize fowls occurring together, left the Rector at
liberty to continue, without interruption, his last
address to his son, before sending him forth to
fight his battles with the gyps, bedmakers, ex-
aminers, friends, foes, and follies of a University
life.
The worthy gentleman had primed himself for
this trying occasion with the "Aphorisms of Lord
Bacon," my Lord Chesterfield's " Letters to his
Son," and rather more than two-thirds of a bottle
of his own claret; and he was retailing to the
hopeful Samuel a curious mixture of the three,
in which, if he had not been the parson, I should
\6 The Cainbridge Freshman ; or,
have said, without one moment's hesitation, tlie
last-named slightly predominated. He enjoined
upon our hero, in solemn and touching tones, the
respective and collective values of industry, punc-
tuality, and early rising upon a man's future
success in life.
"These three qualities," said the Rector, "united
with mental tranquillity under all circumstances,
collectedness of faculties, and imperturbation of
feature, mark the great man. Think, my dear
Samuel, of the great Bacon, the politic Chester-
field, the — a — the quiet Watts; think of 'How
doth — ' I mean — a —
* Early to bed, and early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.' "
(Before Mr. Adolphus had been at the Univer-
sity long, he was taught to believe it was-^
" The way to be cross and have very sore eyes.")
" And then," pursued the Rector, " my dear boy
— I may add," continued his father, with rapidly
increasing solemnity of manner and depth of tone,
" my only boy — think of the example that I have
always set you; and think of dear Mr. Morgan,
and the precepts he has aided me in inculcating ;
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 17
and try — do try — to be a man of the world, Adol-
phus, such as you know I wish to see you — prac-
tical, virtuous, steady — an ornament to that station
of life in which it has pleased Providence to place
you. And," continued the good man, his feelings
fast overpowering him, " my last advice is, be cool
—becalm — be col — lected!"
This eloquent appeal to the examples and pre-
cepts of the living (Mr. Morgan) and the dead
(Bacon, Chesterfield, and Watts) was received by
the three ladies and the curate with due murmurs
of approbation; for in his own family Mr. Go-
lightly was looked upon as a wise and clever man,
and out of it as a good but mistaken man ; and,
therefore, whenever he addressed his family, either
from the pulpit in the church or from the pulpit
on the hearth, his remarks were received with
deference and respect. By our hero alone — such
,alas! is the callousness of human nature — they
were not so highly appreciated ; for the fact was,
that by frequent repetition his father's opinions
and warnings had lost that novelty which is neces-
sary to rivet the attention of a mind disturbed by
the prospect of rising an hour earlier than usual
next day.
Mrs. Golightly availed herself of this opportunity
to send for the butler, to inquire if everything was
1 8 The Catnbridge Freshman; or,
ready for Mr. Samuel, and if the wine had been
packed as she had directed.
It was a source of grief to the good lady that
she could not have the melancholy pleasure of
starting her son off with cold chicken enough for a
week at least, if every meal were luncheon ; for I
believe she would have signed the death-warrant of
any or all of the finest pullets and cockerels in the
poultry-yard with the greatest readiness, in order
that her Samuel might think of her and home
whilst he ate them, had she not been told by the
Eector that such sacrifice on her part was unneces-
sary, chickens being plentiful and easily procurable
from the college kitchens. The astute Aunt Do-
rothea added a little advice, and expressed a hope
that Samuel would learn to play well at whist, a
game of which she was an enthusiastic admirer.
Miss Harriet, for her part, hoped that he would
speedily acquire the art of infusing the tea for
himself; and that the elaborate worsted-work tea-
pot cover — technically termed, I believe, a tea-
cosey — which she had provided for him, would
materially assist in the production of that desirable
adjunct of the scholar's life, tea. Mr. Morgan in-
timated that on the morrow it was his intention to
present his pupil with a small token of his regard.
Miss Dorothea often used to express her wonder at
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
what he did with all his money: a hundred
fifty pounds a-year for being a curate and a tutor,
and thirty pounds arising from the secure invest-
ment of nine hundred and thirty-one pounds six
shillings and eightpence in the Three per Cent.
Consols! Bless you, Miss Dorothea, that modest
hundred and eighty pounds flowed out in as many
little rills of beneficence. It gave bread to one,
physic to another, and clothing to a third. It was
at the command of all the parish, and the only
person who really did not have any of it was that
good Mr. Morgan himself. What want had he if
his neighbour lacked % And Miss Dorothea won-
dered what he did with his money!
Hark! the jingle of glasses. In comes Tufiley
with the tray, and all the family partake of a little
negus, to make them sleep — of course, the ladies
have it very weak ; and they all of them indulge in
an anti-flatulent biscuit a-piece, and then retire for
the night.
And Mr. Samuel Adolphus dreamed that he
and his cousin George were playing at leap-
frog in their caps and gowns in the parish
church, and would not let old Bumpy the beadle
come in; and Bumpy was pounding away at the
church door with a clothes-prop out of his garden,
when —
C 2
20 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
" Oh! all right, Smith. Yes — say I am getting
up now. All right ! "
For it was Smith the footman, and not Bumpy
the beadle ; and, instead of the church door, it was
our hero's own bed-room door at which the knock-
ing was going on.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 21
CHAPTER III.
IN "WHICH MR. GOLIGHTLY STARTS FOR CAMBRIDGE,
IN THE COMPANY OF HIS COUSIN GEORGE AND
THE HONOURABLE JOHN POKYR, AND DULY AR-
RIVES THERE.
F there was bustle and confusion in the
house of Golightly on the night before,
what was there on the great day itself?
Everybody was trying to do everything at once,
and tumbling over everybody else. However,
breakfast was got on the table by half-past eight
somehow ; and the different members of the family
came down to partake of it. Mrs. Golightly's eyes
looked pinky, and Miss Harriet's were positively
red. I believe the former, and I am sure the
latter, had let fall a few womanly tears. The
Rector was doing his best to keep up appear-
ances, by playing the philosopher at the expense
of his feelings. Mr. Samuel had been round
to pay a parting visit to various dumb friends —
22 The Cambridge JFreskman ; or,
dogs and horses. Having performed this duty to
himself and his favourite animals, our hero then ran
in to breakfast; and with difficulty got through
that meal, scalding his mouth w^ith the coffee he was
pouring down his throat to save himself from being
choked with his toast and butter. And then his
father presented the new gold lever he had always
said he should have to take to the University —
Mr. Samuel had previously worn an antiquated
verge, once the property of the worthy Captain of
militia mentioned in a previous chapter — and Aunt
Harriet's tea-cosey was found to contain several
pieces of peculiar tough printed paper, dated from
the Bank of England, and signed Hy. Dixon,
which were understood to be the joint offering of
the two maiden ladies at the shrine of youth and
virtue. Mrs. Golightly, his mamma, brought forth
a knitted sofa blanket and a noble pair of slippers,
with foxes' heads, having glass beads for eyes, all
over them. And good Mr. Morgan placed on the
table a sealed packet, which was understood to
contain a pocket Bible and Keble's " Christian
Year."
At this juncture. Smith, the footman, said, flush-
ing slightly as he spoke — "Would Mr. Samuel be
so good as to step outside a moment?" And there
was Betty, the cook, who had nursed him in his
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly, 23
infancy, with a packet which struck rather warm
through the white paper : — " Would Mr. Samuel
please to accept it 1 " And when opened it was
found to be a plum cake, recently baked, and a
pot of mixed pickles, with ^'Affection's Offering"
scrawled inside the wrapper. And then all the
presents, except the gold lever, were hastily taken
off to be packed; and the Rector placed the watch
in his son's hands, but without the speech he had
intended to make — which, everything considered,
was quite as well; and our hero said, " Thank you,
Fa " — for he was in the habit of calling his father
" Fa." And then the roll of wheels outside on the
gravel drive was heard, and the carriage drew up
at the door, and the luggage was all put in — not
forgetting the two hampers of wine, which were
carefully stowed away in front.
" Good-bye," said Miss Dorothea ; " and never
forget you are a Golightly, and that your own
cousin, four times removed, is grandnephew to
an—"
And " Good-bye," said Aunt Harriet ; " and be
sure you use your tea-cosey."
" And mind," said Mr. Morgan, " you sometimes
read your — "
And the good man blushed as he recollected
that had been his present, lest he should seem to
24
The Cambridge Freshman; or,
be reminding his pupil of that, when all he meant
was his good.
"And be sure you take to your new flannels if
the weather gets cold," said his mother.
^a"'^^--^
THE FAMILY "SHAY."
And both the Miss Golightlys together said —
" Write to us directly you get there."
And as he jumped into the family carriage he
Memoirs of Mi\ Go lightly. 25
heard his father saying, in becomingly solemn
tones, " Be a man of the world."
And his mamma's voice chiming in, " Like your
dear Fa."
And he was gone — round to the Hall, to call
for his cousin George.
The family returned slowly to the breakfast-
room, and sat themselves down in gloomy silence.
The first thing that occurred to break it was a
remark from Mrs. Golightly to the effect that
" there was something very supporting about a
glass of sherry;" continuing, that she felt quite
"shaken." A glass of sherry was instantly brought
her, and was found to afford her some slight
relief.
For his part, the Eector took an early oppor-
tunity of marching off to his study, where he sat
down to peruse Bacon's "Aphorisms " and Lord
Chesterfield's celebrated "Letters," with a view
to preparing himself, from those brilliant models,
for a thorough course of improving epistolary
correspondence with his son. His mind, I must
say, wandered a little from his authors, and his
imagination began to play ; thereby enabling him
to picture, in a lively and pleasing manner, all
sorts of impossible honours, prizes, and distinc-
tions til at were to fall in after-life to the lot of
26 The Cambridge FresJunan; or,
his son — a brilliancy which might be reflected
upon him, and brighten his declining years with
a resplendent though borrowed lustre. Imagina-
tion, too, carried him on, and suggested the
possibility of " Letters from the Rector of Oak-
ingham to his Son at the University:" London.
The good man hesitated between the several
rival publishers; and, finally, composed himself
steadily for the study of Bacon.
We are not always best at what we think we
excel in. I know the E-ector thought his voca-
tion in hfe should have been the statesman's.
The character he most admired was the clever,
ready, keen-witted man of the world. I know
he always regretted that his brother could never
be induced to stand for Fuddleton.
Had he had the chance ! Ah ! poor, dear,
simple Rector, you would have been food for the
fishes. Yet you want Samuel Adolphus to be a
man of the world — of course, on a good, sound,
scriptural basis, but still —
I recollect the reverend gentleman whipped all
the family off to the Isle of Wight once, at twelve
hours' notice, because he had just read in a book
from Mudie's that a Sir John Somebody, when
he was asked when he should be ready to start for
India, replied, " To-morrow.'*
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 27
»- ^ — —
The Rector seized the idea. Poor Mrs. Golightly
begged to go to the seaside. The Rector said
" To-morrow," arxd meant it. This he thought
was decision of character, energy on a magnificent
scale, and so forth.
Poor man, when he found the onlv razor he
could shave with and all his clean pocket-hand-
kerchiefs were left behind, with, half the other
things, he was obliged to keep his temper and
bear it. Now, when the family leave home, a
week's notice is always given, at the sacrifice of
energy, decision of character, and sentiment gene-
rally.
But to return from the author of his existence
to our hero himself.
During the ten minutes' drive from the Rectory
to the Hall, he felt the pain of a tender heart and
affectionate disposition at leaving the bosom of
his family, even for the comparatively short period
of seven weeks ; but he had no sooner arrived
at the door of the Hall, and taken on board his
sprightly cousin George, than, speedily recovering
his usual flow of spirits, he was able to exchange
salutations with his uncle, his aunt, and his
cousin Arabella, with some show of composure.
Mr. George Golightly's luggage — which was of
much smaller dimensions than our hero's — being
28 The Cambridge Freshma^i; or,
safely fixed on the top of the carriage, they
drove off, waving their adieux to their affectionate
relatives. And it was lucky that the Rectory
carriage was a strong, old-fashioned vehicle, of
the species family coach, and not one of those
elegant equipages which the " admirers of light
carriages " delight to possess, or it never would
have stood a ten miles' journey over such roads
as lay between Oakingham and the railway sta-
tion at Fuddleton, with such a weight upon it
as it had to carry on this occasion. However,
the carriage did perform the journey, and did
its work rather better than the horses did theirs;
for if two minutes more had been occupied on
the way, the train would, in all probability, have
started without the distinguished passengers in-
side.
These two Rectory carriage horses always ap-
peared to know — by a sort of intuition, remark-
able but unerring — when they were going to
Fuddleton; and, as it was a journey they did not
in any way approve of, went rather more slowly
than was their wont on other journeys. Their best
pace was about six miles an hour, but they did not
do the Fuddleton course in much under two hours;
being fat, sleek animals, and better adapted for
"staying" than for the "T.Y.C." business. "Sprint
Memoirs of lilr. GoUghtly, 29
races," as i\Ir. George had often remarked, were
not in their line.
The two gentlemen sat on the back seat, with
their faces to the horses. With the appearance
of Mr. Samuel Adolphus our readers are already
acquainted. His cousin, Mr. George, was a smart,
good-looking young man, and one of the leaders
of fashion in the ancient University of which he
was a bright ornament. His manners were dash-
ing, his talk lively, and — without a doubt — his
coats were of the latest mode. The Cesarewitch
had just been decided, and he was occupied some
time in adjusting "his book" upon that event,
and making a list, in metallic pencil, at the end,
of what he had to draw and to pay over it; and,
when he had done that he had to swallow his
hebdomadal dose of Bells Life — Bell does not
reach Oakingham Park till Monday mornings; so
conversation did not take place to any great extent
between the two gentlemen during the first part of
their journey. 1 know, at this time, Mr. George
Golightly used to consider his cousin Samuel's
conversation slow. Every now and then, however,
he looked up from his paper to grumble at the
pace they were going, and declare in strong lan-
guage that "he'd be bio wed if those old pigs would
ever get them there within an hour of the time."
The Cambridge FresJmian ; or,
And our hero, of course, took the opportunity,
every time it offered, of consulting his new Avatch;
and it was not kind of George to say that, "If he
had got a smarter ticker than other people, he
need not he for ever pulling it in and out of his
pocket."
However, Mr. Samuel was used to his cousin's
playful way, and made himself as happy as he
could wdth his sandwiches and cherry brandy,
and tried to think the "Cambridge Guide" was
really interesting reading.
At last they arrived at the station, and as they
drove up they were overtaken by a smart drag
from Fendre Abbey, Lord Shovelle's seat. In
it were two gentlemen, the Honourable John
Pokyr — my lord's second son — and a college
friend who had been spending some days with
him, Mr. Calipash Calipee, a native of India —
son of Bobadjee Rum walla Fustijee Calipee, the
well - known converted prince and banker of
Madras. They were accompanied by two servants,
a smooth-haired terrier, a bulldog, two horses, and
a considerable amount of heavy luggage ; to say
nothing of bundles of whips, sticks, and canes,
rugs, and other paraphernalia.
"By jingo!" cried Mr. Pokyr, giving the Indian
gentleman what is vulgarly but expressively styled
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 31
a dig in the ribs. "Why, that's old Golightly and
his cousin Samuel in the family shay. Gad, this is
a go! Why, we shall go up together."
"We may meet with an accident, and never get
there," said Mr. Calipash Calipee, slowly recover-
ing his power of articulate speech.
This gentleman, familiarly known as " the Nig-
ger," was very dark, stout, and melancholy ; and had
a habit of making his society more agreeable by
always reminding his company of the possibility
of some catastrophe being at hand.
" Come, get out, and don't fancy we are going to
lift you down. You know, you're a leetle too heavy
for that business. Nigger. Come along."
" How d'ye do, Golightly? " continued Mr. Pokyr,
addressing Mr. George, who was just alighting
from the "family shay."
These gentlemen shook hands very cordially.
"And you've got the youthful cousin with you,"
said the facetious Mr. Pokyr. "Well, Mr. Samuel
Adolphus, how have you left your dear mam-mar"?"
Mr. Pokyr's style of address was familiar ; but
then he was a very funny fellow, and had a repu-
tation to keep up.
Mr. George and Mr. Calipee shook hands; or,
rather, Mr. George shook Mr. Calipee's hand for
him.
32 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
It is often a social problem, altogether be-
yond our province to discuss, which is to be the
shaker.
" Come here, Nigger," called out Mr. Pokyr.
" Mr. Calipee — Mr. Golightly. Needn't look
frightened: he doesn't bite — here, you know, I
mean," added Mr. Pokyr, in a whisper. " In his
own country all the family are Cannibals. Know
it for a fact, you know. Take my oath, and all
that. 'Salmi de baby' is quite a common dish.
Come, now," he added, "don't be alarmed. Shake
hands, and be friends. There, then," said he,
suddenly expanding an umbrella in his left hand,
whilst he placed the right above their heads,
after the celebrated photograph of the Bishop of
Oxford. " Ber-less ye, my children, ber-less ye.
Kiss and be friends."
The porters, who knew him well, thought he was
the funniest fellow that ever came to the station ;
and all agreed, as they drank his health at the
Kailway Arms, after they had started the train
and pocketed a tip, " that he were a rum 'un, he
were, if ever there wor one." And old Jinks, the
superannuated carriage-wheel greaser, added his
testimony, that " young Muster John were no more
of a man nor his father wor afore him. He re-
collected him just such another."
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 33
The luggage having been taken over to the
up-platform —
" Now, then, any more for Bletchley, Cambridge,
Oxford, or London \ " called out the ticket-taker,
merely as a matter of form ; and the bell rang
just as Mr. Samuel rushed wildly up to Mr.
George, exclaiming —
" Goodness gracious, George, I've left my purse
on the p — piano! I — I th— thought I should
leave something behind ! "
"Just what I thought," said liis cousin, con-
siderately. *' I suppose I had better take a ticket
for you. You can't very well be left behind."
So he did so ; and they all four got comfortably
into the carriage. Mr. Samuel and Mr. Calipee
had managed to monopolize the hot-water pans
between them, when the former gentleman found
he had left his pocket-handkerchief in the car-
riage ; and the porter was started off for that, and
just got to one end of the platform as the train
was moving out at the other. So our hero bor-
rowed his cousin's, and made use of it with great
vigour, in order to prove that he really wanted
his own. The colour was just fading from his
physiognomy, after the last of a series of tremeu'
dously exciting "blows," when it was painfully
recalled by Mr. Pokyr's hand descending with
D
34 The Cambridge FresJmtan ; or^
some force upon his leg, accompanying the ques-
tion —
"And what are you backing for next year's
Darby, Mr. Samuel Adolphusr'
Our hero was obliged to confess, with a blush
of shame upon his countenance, that he "wasn't
backing anything at all."
** Pretty innocent," said the Honourable John,
producing from the pocket of his overcoat a
sporting-looking volume. "Let me lay you the
odds against something, then. Must back some-
thing, you know. Everybody does that. It is
necessary before matriculation ! "
"Indeed!" replied our hero.
Now, with his father's advice never to betray
an ignorance of everyday matters still fresh in his
recollection, I verily believe Mr. Golightly would,
on the spur of the moment, so far have accom-
modated Mr. Pokyr's book as to invest a small
sum upon something; but he did not know the
name of a horse in the race. This difficulty was
unexpectedly overcome by Mr. Pokyr's saying that
he could lay against Blue Bell, the Laird, or Catch-
him-who-can; and that he had a little more to
lay out against Whistler for a " situation," if Mr.
Golightly preferred that form of investment.
At this period of his existence, however, the
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 35
gentleman to whom this offer was addressed was
m happy ignorance of what a " situation " might
be; and therefore it was not reasonable to suppose
that he would express a decided preference for that
method of losing his money.
He was hesitating as to what course should be
pursued by one who, from the very outset of his
career, desired to be thought a man of the world,
when his cousin George interfered to prevent his
losing his money to Mr. Pokyr, by shoAving a way
in which he might lose it to him.
"Don't you be in a hurry to back anything,
old fellow," said Mr. George, confidentially. "I
shall have a book on the race myself, and I'll let
you have the market price against anything in tlie
race, and give you a tip besides."
" I'll give you one now, if you don't know any-
thing," said Mr. Pokyr, readily. " And I've been
told — " he added, sinking his voice into a whisper
— "but you'll keep this quiet?"
Our hero assured him, on his word and honour,
he would.
"Well, then, I've been told of an outsider,",
mentioning an animal whose name he had not
had the pleasure of pencilling, " called Dormouse ;
and they do say he stands a wonderful chance.
Had the tip direct from Newmarket, where he is
D 2
36 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
trained. Now, you can have ten to one against
him. Let me lay you the odds to a ' fiver ' — now,
do. Well, then," putting his pencil to the book,
" to a sov. Come, that can't hurt you ! Shall I
book it r '
" What has he told you," asked Mr. George.
Forgetting his solemn promise, Mr. Samuel
mentioned the name of " Dormouse " with the
greatest innocence of manner.
" Didn't you say you would keep that quiet \ "
demanded Mr. Pokyr, doing his best to suppress a
smile and look fierce.
"Keep it quiet!" said George; "it would take
some time to make it noisy, wouldn't if?"
" I--I b — beg pardon," said our hero ; " I quite
forgot. I did really, now."
" All right, Golightly ; never mind, old fellow —
done no mischief. You were just going to tell me
to put you down — "
Mr. George winked at Mr. Samuel. The latter
gentleman understood what that wink meant.
"N — no, I — I would rather not, I think; that
is, I will consider about it."
Mr. Pokyr expressed his opinion that the Dor-
mouse required no consideration ; but Mr. Samuel
could not be brought round.
" Well, then, don't you back anything with your
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 37
cousin George without just letting me know what
you're at, because he is sure to have you."
" Do not shout so, Pokyr," exclaimed Mr.
Calipee, from his own corner of the carriage,
where he had made himself tolerably comfortable.
" It is quite a moral impossibility to go to sleep
while there is such a row going on."
" Oh," replied Mr. Pokyr, " if you think you are
going to sleep all the way up, you've made a slight
mistake ; so you may as well wake up at once, and
save me the trouble of rousing you. Just look at
him, Golightly; never saw such a fellow to sleep in
my life as he is — on my honour, I never did. The
beggar's been staying with us at Fendre for a fort-
night, and 'gad he's been asleep nearly all the time
— that is, when not grubbing. And this is just
what he does at the Cutlet of a Saturday ; and, in
fact, everywhere else — isn't it, Golightly ? Demme,
Calipee, you are always dropping off. Talk to you
at dinner — think you're listening ; look at you —
bedad, you're as near asleep as dammit."
The gentleman thus addressed made a silent
defence by opening both his eyes and producing
his cigar case. He selected a weed from it, stuck
it in his mouth, and passed the case to Mr. Pokyr;
who did the same, handing it in turn to Mr.
George and our hero.
38 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
The four gentlemen soon succeeded in filling the
carriage with what a lady novelist once called
" ethereal vapour of the Virginian weed."
"Talking of the Cutlet," said Mr. Pokyr, be-
tween the puffs of his Havannah, " what do you
say to putting our noble cousin up, Golightly?"
"Oh, ah!" said Mr. George; "of course, if he
likes."
"Has your cousin ever told you anything about
the Cutlet?" Mr. Pokyr inquired, addressing the
hero of this biography.
"Never, that I recollect," replied Mr. Samuel;
"but I will not be quite sure."
"Oh, I see!" was Mr. Pokyr's rejoinder, "anxious
to avoid blowing his own trumpet, and telling his
fond relatives of all his successes."
"Now, Pokyr, don't be a fool!"
The truth was, his family sketches of University
life were artfully toned down to meet the exigen-
cies of the case. The high lights in the pictures
were subdued; draperies carefully disposed over
some parts and removed from others; books,
scribbling-paper, and bundles of quill pens care-
lessly strewn about the immediate foreground;
whilst in the middle distance the Little-go was
a prominent object, the background being filled
in with the B.A. degree. And all the works of
Memoirs of Air. Golightly. 39.
this artist are distinguished by a dense atmosphere
of "grinding" and green tea.
They were at this period — the end of his first
year at college — much admired by his mother and
the Squire.
Mr. Samuel Golightly, hearing with pleasure of
his cousin's success, which he not unreasonably
connected with mathematical and classical litera-
ture, inquired, with an intelligent smile lighting
up his intelligent features, "if the Cutlet Club
w^as a literary association] " adding, that "such
societies, he believed, aifected eccentric names.
He had heard of a Savage Club."
He had evidently said something rather good,
for his cousin looked amused; Mr. Pokyr laughed
for a second or so, till stojiped by a violent cough;
and even the melancholy Mr. Calipee showed his
white teeth. You could tell he was laughing, for
his fat sides shook perceptibly beneath his sealskin
waistcoat.
Directly Mr. Pokyr had overcome his cough, he
replied to our hero's query —
"Oh, yes, Golightly. You have about hit the
mark this time. We do all we can, in our humble
way, at the meetings of the Mutton Cutlet Club, to
cultivate and encourage literature, and to extend
the circle of the sciences."
40 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
•'Dear me!" ejaculated Mr, Samuel, with the
most marked interest. "Do you?"
"Yes. And although we do not boast a secre-
tary, we have a president, of whom we are proud."
Mr. Golightly proceeded to ask the name of that
exalted functionary.
"Why, a man you may know, or, at least, you've
heard of him," replied Pokyr.
"Who is it, thenV demanded Mr. Samuel, in a
rapture of impatient interest.
"FitzFoodel," said his informant.
"N-not Frederick FitzFoodeir'
"That is the man, I believe; though we all call
him Jockey FitzFoodel."
"Really," exclaimed Mr. Samuel, " now, you
quite astonish me. Pokyr, I believe you're in fun!
You are such a joker."
"It is true enough — is'nt it, Nigger? You were
the rejected candidate — you ought to know."
Mr. Calipee bowed his head in token of assent,
remarking, in a scarcely audible voice, "that of
course, if he was fool enough to stand for any-
thing, he should not be elected — that was not like
his luck!"
" Well — but," pursued our hero, " I had no idea
that Fr — , that is, I mean that J-Jockey Fitz-
Foodel, as you call him, was a lover of literature ! "
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 41
" Oh, an enthusiastic admirer of some of its
branches, I assure you ! " (sporting novels and
Weatherby's Calendar) — " and a constant patron
of others " — (the President of the Mutton Cutlet
Club subscribed to BelVs Life and " Baily's Maga-
zine").
" I have heard him shout very loud when he is
out with the hounds," remarked Mr. Samuel.
" Fine speaker, I must say," rejoined Mr. Pokyr.
"And what do you do at the Cutlet ClubT'
inquired Mr. Samuel.
" Oh, meet at each other's rooms, drink tea, and
spout — I mean, converse upon literary and scien-
tific subjects."
" Delightful ! " exclaimed Mr. Golightly, placing
the most implicit faith in all the statements made
by Mr. Pokyr.
"Then you think you would like to join us"?"
said the last-named gentleman.
" I am sure I shall be very much pleased if I
am elected," answered our hero.
" Oh, you may make sure of that, old fel-
low, if I put you up, and the Nigger seconds you.
They never blackball our men — do they, Nigger I
Dam — he's asleep, I believe," added Mr. Pokyr,
raising his voice. "Nigger, wake up! You'll
second our friend if I propose him — won't youT'
42 The Cambi'idge Freshman; or.
**A11 right. Delighted, I'm sure," said the
Indian, relapsing again into his slumbers.
"I'm sure my Fa will be delighted too!" said
Mr. Samuel, with great animation. "He is very
fond of books himself. I shall write home and
tell—"
" I do not know what makes your cousin laugh,
Golightly! There are lots of men who would give
their heads to get in, I can tell you. We are
pretty select, you know."
Mr. Samuel Golightly said he was sure they
were, and he felt highly complimented at the dis-
tinguished honour of being a prospective member
of the Mutton Cutlet Club.
" You will favour us with a paper on something
at an early date?"
Our hero thought that, for the present at least
he should be content to be a listener.
"Tell you what, Pokyr," said Mr. George, "I
think this is rather slow. Let's do something."
"Well, wake the Nigger, and let us have a
mild rubber. You can play whist T' said he, ad-
dressing Mr. Samuel.
"A little," replied that gentleman, with as much
truth as modesty.
" That is," said Pokyr, " you know the moves —
know a spade from a diamond, I mean^ "
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly
" Yes — oh, yes. I have often played with my
aunts."
" Come on, then," replied Mr. Pokyr, producing
A HAND AT CARDS,
from his pocket a morocco case, containing two
packs of cards.
Mr. Calipee having been roused, and a board —
which the guard had supplied before they left
44 ^'^^ Cambridge Freshman; or,
Fucldleton — adjusted between the four gentlemeu
so as to form a card table, they cut for partners.
The result was, our hero and Mr. Pokyr versus
George and Mr. Calipee.
" Your deal. Nigger — you cut the ace, I think.
Half-crown points, if agreeable."
"I'm sure to lose, as usual," responded the
lugubrious Nigger. ** But anything you wish, you
know."
Mr. George and our hero made a similar
arrangement, after it had been explained that a
dollar and five shillings were convertible terms,
and, consequently, half-a-dollar was synonymous
with two and sixpence. ^
The first three tricks fell very smoothly to
George and Mr. Calipee. At the end of the fifth,
Mr. Pokyr asked our hero, in anything but an
amiable manner, what in the world he meant by
not returning his lead.
Mr. Samuel felt altogether at sea at this sort of
whist. He always played for the best, as far as he
could see ; but had no particular rules of action.
At the end of the game, Mr. Pokyr, being very
irate, rated him soundly for fooling away three
tricks at the very least ; and wanted to know what
he meant by leading his Queen of Clubs, when he
held ace and two little ones
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 45
Mr. Samuel did not clearly know what he meant
by it ; but wisely held his peace.
At the end of game number two they had gained
a double, against a single scored by their oppo-
nents.
Mr. Pokyr, acting upon an old-fashioned but
almost universally practised rule — " at the end of
every losing game, pitch into your partner!" — did
so in very strong terms ; at the same time, telling
Mr. Samuel to mark the game.
Now, our hero always was in the habit of
leaving the scoring to his partner. He knew his
Aunt Dorothea always did something with the
pegs and cribbage board at the end of a game, and
that his Fa put a half-crown and a shilling or
two on the table ; and observing that Mr. Calipee
had placed a shilling on the table, he thought he
should certainly be safe if he did the same; and
was greatly surprised to hear his partner inquire,
in angry tones, "What do you mean by thaf?"
"I thought you asked me to mark for us," he
replied.
" You don't call that marking \ "
" Y — yes," faintly replied Mr. Samuel.
" Here ! " said Pokyr, producing the morocco
case from his pocket, and extracting from it a
small book with green covers — "here, I'll make
46 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
you a present of this. You will find it useful to
you. You don't play much like a book at present,
I must say."
Mr. Golightly thanked him, expressed his anx-
iety to learn, and placed the little green book in
his pocket.
" This is not very lively — suppose we change it
to a little 'van.'"
Mr. Samuel Golightly was now, for the first
time, initiated into the mysteries of vingt-et-un.
His early efforts were distinguished by frequent
" bursts ; " as, in the spirit of a true sportsman, he
took another seven after he had got twenty. Of
this game he afterwards became very fond ; and it
cost him something considerable to learn that
eighteen was not a bad number to stand on.
In this agreeable manner the four gentlemen
spent their time till the train stopped at Bletchley.
Here they had to change from the comfort of
the main train into one of the four or five cold,
" seedy," and aged carriages which seem always to
be waiting at Bletchley for Cambridge men.
Both Mr. Samuel and Mr. Calipee felt hungry,
and crossed over to the little refreshment room,
where they found the usual tempting display of
good things for the consumption of railway travel-
lers; the choice lying, as usual, between three
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 47
sandwiches under one glass cover, two Queen
cakes under another, a dish of buns, a cyUnder
of captain's biscuits, oranges, or Everton toify.
Under the circumstances, our hero thought it best
to have his flask replenished with cherry brandy,
and leave the other things till another day.
Having crossed to the Cambridge train, they
sent a porter off for the hot-water pans — so often
forgotten until applied for. When they arrived,
the party seated themselves again in the carriage.
The porter who brought the pans and the porter
who moved their luggage hung about the door in
a manner more suggestive of sixpences than any
words. Mr. Samuel perceived, with his usual dis-
crimination, the object of their delay; and, with
the generosity inherent in his nature, gave them
more than they expected, and sent them off. The
engine now gave forth a discordant whistle, and
Mr. Calipee made the remark "We're off." This,
however, was a mistake. The next quarter of an
hour would have hung somewhat heavily on their
hands, had not Mr. Pokyr enlivened them by put-
ting his head out of the carriage window and
"chaffing" a porter in a very diverting manner,
getting the better of the rascal on all points. Such
is the influence of example and cherry brandy, that
Avhen the man whose walk in life is replenishing
48 The Cambridge I'reskmaii; or,
the grease-boxes arrived at the carriage from the
window of which Mr. Golightly was looking out
upon the world at large, our hero determined to
improve this opportunity for an excellent joke by
asking him "If he ever greased his hair with that
yellow pomatum?"
The surly ruffian, evidently missing the point of
the joke, repUed in the negative ; adding that he
thought —
"It was some people's heads, and not hairs, as
wanted a-greasin'!"
Mr. Samuel was collecting himself for a suitably
severe and Johnsonian rejoinder to this remark,
when the opportunity for the display of cutting
repartee was lost for ever by the train moving out
of the station. Nor was his temper improved when
Mr. Pokyr exclaimed —
" By Jove ! got you there, old fellow. One too
many for you as yet, on my honour he is. Look
out for that fellow on the return journey, dear boy.
Plenty of time to think over a reply."
This, however, I believe, is the last known occa-
sion on which Mr. Golightly so far forgot his dignity
as to joke with a railway official.
After having smoked another cigar, the gentle-
men again resumed their game at "van," at which
lively and exciting amusement they continued to
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 49
play till the train arrived at the platform at Cam-
bridge.
Mr. Golightly thanked his cousin George for the
cash he had lent him; and also found that the
chief expenses of a raihvay journey are not neces-
sarily the tickets.
Here two flies were procured ; and Mr. George
and the Nigger got into one, whilst our hero and
Mr. Pokyr took their seats' in the other. The men
were instructed to drive to Skimmery, the name
by which St. Mary's is commonly known — a college
that is described by a well-known historian, in one
of his famous essays, as " the finest place of edu-
cation in the world " — which opinion, I believe, Mr.
Samuel Golightly cordially endorses. His first im-
pressions of it we shall leave for our next chapter.
50 The Cambridge Freslwtan ; or^
CHAPTER IV.
SKIM. COLL., CAM.
E left our hero in a fly, with his friend, Mr.
Pokyr. He looked out, as they drove
along, at all the objects of interest by the
way, and his companion supplied him with a great
deal of information in a very small compass. For
instance, he learned that the imposing white brick
edifice, with arcades in either wing, which is
passed to the right hand of a carriage driving up
Trumpington-street, was the official residence of
the Vice-Chancellor. This building, however, he
afterwards found out, was known as Addenbrooke's
Hospital; and as many others of the places he
saw during this drive he discovered, at a later period
of his residence in Cambridge, to be more com-
monly called by names quite different from those
Mr. Pokyr gave to them, it is useless, as far as
practical purposes are concerned, to repeat here
the names he first knew them by. Suffice it to
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 51
say, in justice to Mr. Pokyr's genius, that they
were more fanciful than trustworthy. After a drive
of fifteen minutes, Mr. Golightly was set down at
the gate of the college — his college! Proud reflec-
tion ! I think, at this moment, had the statue of the
founder, which is perched up over the gate, been
within reach, Mr. Samuel would have been in-
clined to embrace it. However, as it was some
feet above him, he contented himself by following
his luggage and Mr. Pokyr across the great quad,
through the Screens, into the Cloister court, where,
through his cousin's influence with the Eev. Titus
Bloke, the tutor, rooms had been allotted him.
He followed his guide up a flight of old oak stairs,
and found himself on a landing, on either side of
which was a door, and over one of these doors
was the name "Pokyr;" and over the other, in
neAvly painted white letters, on a black ground, the
name " S. A. Golightly " met his delighted gaze.
With a very natural impulse he entered, seated
himself upon the green sofa, and was about to
indulge in a poetic reverie upon his new abode,
when he was rudely awakened to the stern realities
of life by the sudden and simultaneous a23pearance
from an inner room of two figures — a man and a
woman — his bedmaker and his gyp. The former
— a lady advanced in years, and attired in a brown
E 2
52
The Cambridge Freshman; or.
dress, carrying in her left hand a clothes brush —
was dropping a series of little curtseys, which is a
way bedmakers have of expressing welcome and
PORTRAIT OF MRS. CRIBB.
respect. The latter was scraping and bowing with
a like intention.
" Please, sir— bedmaker, sir ; yes, sir ; — if you
please, sir," said the lady.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 53
" Gyp, sir — please, sir," said the man.
Our hero smiled benignly upon both.
" Cribb, sir — Mrs. Cribb, sir," said the lady.
" Betsy," said the gyp.
" Which my christenin' name is Elizabeth, sir :
wherefore Betsy or Cribb ; and either name an-
swered to when called," said Mrs. Cribb.
" Sneek, sir," said the gyp, as he caught Mr.
Golightly's eye.
" John," said Mrs. Cribb.
" Yes, sir — John Sneek," assented Mr. Sneek.
"And," he continued, addressing his new master,
" Cribb and me, sir, 's gyp and bedmaker on this
staircase."
"Which we are," put in Mrs. Cribb. "And
Sneek, as I said before, the gentleman's cousin to
Mr. Golightly below."
" 'Xcuse me, Cribb, but I told you ; for Mr.
George Golightly says to me, ' Sneek,' says he — "
" Now, what is the use, John Sneek, when — "
The person addressed gave a wink, intended
for our hero's edification, and pointed expressively
over his left shoulder.
" Below you, sir," he continued, pointing down,
" ground floor, you've got your cousin — which I
never want to see no better master. Above, Mr.
Eustace Jones, which we expect will be senior the
54 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
year arter next, sir; and to your right 'and, sir,
the Honble Pokyr."
During this speech Mrs. Cribb stood with her
arms akimbo, and her gaze intently fixed on the
ceiling.
" Now, don't you hear Muster Eustace Jones a-
callin' you?" said the gyp, addressing Mrs. Cribb.
" I'm sure we shall do very well without you for a
minnit ; sha'n't we, sir \ " he continued, glancing at
our hero.
Mrs. Cribb, being thus compelled to attend to
the summons of the gentleman above, reluctantly
resigned to her coadjutor, Sneek, the opportunity
both desired of having the first " pull" at their
new master. Directly she was well clear of the
room and her footsteps heard on the stairs, the gyp
— who was a man apparently of about forty years
of age, with a "corporation" worthy of an alder-
man, but with legs scarcely adequate to its support;
a face the colour of parchment, and slightly pitted
with small-pox; two sharp twinkling eyes, one of
which was about half an inch higher than the
other; a large mouth, half of which nature or
habit taught him to dispense with, as he always
spoke with the left corner closed and tightly pursed
up ; and a crop of very short, straight black hair.
He was attired in a suit of seedy black, the annual
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 55
gift of the Fellows, whose clothes Mr. Sneek had
declared, any time for the last twenty years, " fitted
him to a T." This, however, nobody perceived but
himself, or " fitting to a T" is but a bad fit after
all — well, this worth v, directlv INIrs. Cribb's back
was turned, began to speak of her merits as fol-
lows: —
"Now, that's just Ciibb, that is,'' he said. "Now,
you wouldn't believe it, sir — you wouldn't, indeed
— she takes no more notice of a gen'l'm'n a-callin'
nor nothink at all. Leaves 'em there, up them
stairs, for instance, or down them stairs, as the
case might be, you know, sir, a hootin' and shoutin*
their very insides out, till I says, ' Now, Cribb, Mus-
ter So-and-so's a-callin' of you.' "
" Indeed," said Mr. Samuel Golightly.
"Every word gawspel truth, I assure you, sir
You'll find it out afore you've been here long, sir;
and that's all about it," said the gyp, pulling a
doleful face. " But you'll like to look through
your rooms whilst I unpack your traps for you, sir.
Three rooms you've got, sir; and most fortunate to
get into college in your first term, sir. Yes, sir,
this is your keeping-room; and this," continued Mr.
Sneek, leading the way, " this here's your study, as
Mr. Grantley, as had these rooms last, used to call
it — not to say as he studied much hisself though —
56 The Cambridgb Freshitan; or,
which, perhaps, you aint a-goin' to over-fatigue
yourself; and, as I frequently say, one readin' man
on a staircase is quite enough; and there's no de-
nyin' as Mr. Eustace Jones, as keeps above, is a
readin' man — never drinks nothink but green tea
and soda water."
"Really!" said our hero — wondering, perhaps,
how a man would look after a long course of these
two beverages.
" Readin','' exclaimed Mr. Sneek, contempt flash-
ing from every feature of his expressive face —
"now, readin' aint the thing for an out-an'-out
gen'l'm'n, is it, sir 1 — like the Honble Pokyr now,
for instance, or you, sir, beggin' pardon for what I
say; though he keeps a man of his own, which —
being gyp on the staircase — aint no pertickler ad-
vantage to me. No, not pertickler," added he,
with an ironical smirk and suppressed chuckle.
" Wine, sir," partly addressing himself to the ham-
pers and partly to their owner. " Let's see : this'U
go into the bins in the winders, and then there's
that closet, and there's the cupboards in the book-
case."
Mr. Golightly inspected them minutely.
" Keys, sir," replied Sneek, in answer to a query
of our hero's. "Yes, there is keys somewhere.
I've got a key at home, I know, as fits that far-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 57
thest bin ; for sometimes, when there was nothink
in it, it used to be locked. But, lor bless you, sir ! "
he added, in a confidential whisper, " keys aint no
use where Cribb is — aint indeed, sir ; nothink more
nor ornaments — aint, 'pon my word, sir. You've
no idea of what she is. Ah !" said he, with great
feeling, " my poor wife 'ould be the bedmaker for
this staircase — "
Whatever eulogium was about to follow was
instantly cut short by the appearance of Mr.
Pokyr, of whom the gyp stood in wholesome
dread,
"What lies is that rascal telling now, Go-
lightly T' demanded Pokyr.
Mr. Samuel Adolphus expressed a faint hope that
his gyp was speaking the truth, the whole truth,
et ccetera.
" Don't believe a word he tells you ; and come
in and have some dinner in my rooms, as we are
too late for Hall — ready in ten minutes."
With this invitation, Mr. Pokyr left our hero to
complete a hasty toilet.
" He's a funny un, he is," remarked Sneek, as
he unpacked our hero's portmanteau.
Mr. Samuel Golightly was on the point of leav-
ing his own rooms for those of his friend, when he
was met by Mrs. Cribb. The gyp had gone to the
5.8 Ihe Cambridge Freshman; or,
gate for his other luggage. This was Mrs. Cribb's
chance. She was equal to the occasion.
" I hope that officious Sneek aint been a pur-
loinin' of my character, sir. But shall you like a
cup of tea to-night, sir, if you please V she asked,
in her very blandest tones. " I shall be here again
at nine, sir ; when, if there's anything else you
want, I hope you'll tell me. I've ordered you what
groceries you want, sir ; and your sheets is as well
aired as if I was a-going to sleep in 'em myself.
Really me, now ! " she exclaimed, as she set her
foot among the bottles Sneek had placed upon
the floor, " I was almost knocking these here
bottles over. John Sneek might have put 'em in a
safer place. You're a-going to have 'em put into
the bins, I s'pose, sir," Mrs. Cribb continued.
" Now, there was keys to them bins when fust Mr.
Grantley come into these rooms; but he never
wanted to lock up nothink with no keys. But
keys — bless you, sir ! — keys aint no use where
John Sneek is. I've know'd him many years, sir.
•" Ah !" said she, with evident emotion, " my poor
dear husband, which is such a convicted martyr
to the rheum aticks, 'ud be the gyp for this stair-
case. As I've often said to different gentlemen
as I've had for masters — which they all thought
the same as 1 did — Sneek's habits is not suitable
Memoirs of illr. Go light ly. 59
for such a place, as you'll find out afore you've
know'd him long, sh*."
Mr. Samuel Golightly was about to soothe Mrs.
Cribb's agitated feelings, by expressing an un-
bounded confidence in the gyp-like capabilities of
that " convicted martyr to the rheumaticks," when
Mr. Pokyr's servant called him to dinner.
We have stated that Mr. Golightly's friend,
Pokyr, "kept" — as the phrase is — in the rooms
opposite his own. The dinner was laid for four ;
and our hero found liis cousin, Mr. Calipee, and
his host seated when he entered. During the
interval between the soup and the fish, he had
time to look round Mr. Pokyr's luxuriously fur-
nished apartment.
The room was, like all others on this staircase,
panelled throughout with oak. On the walls hung
a choice and varied collection of engravings : Her-
ring's " Silks and Satins of the Turf," and " Silks
and Satins of the Field," occupying the places of
honour on either side of the mantelpiece ; above
which were ranged pipes of every age and con-
dition, from old to new, and clean to very dirty.
Round the glass were stuck letters, " invites,"
meets of " the Drag," " Cambridge Hariors," Cut-
let Club dinners, " Lyceum" suppers, and racing
fixtures for the current year. Plants in blossom,
6o The Cambridge Freshman; or,
from the nurseryman's; and beautiful busts and
sculptures from the studio of that celebrated Ita-
lian artist, Signor Ariosto Ramingo, whose "Buy
a nice image to-day " is so well known, graced the
room. A piano, with a case of books on each side,
stood between the windows. Mr. Golightly was
just admiring, for the third time, the portrait of
Miss Menken as the Mazeppa, which hung above
it on the wall opposite him, and was vacantly
taking his first mouthful of crimped sole, when he
was alarmed by terrific cries and violent stamping
from the room overhead. He was the more as-
tonished, as the other three gentlemen continued
quietly to eat their dinner.
" Gracious heavens ! " he exclaimed, starting to
his feet. " W-what is being done \ AVhat is the
matter ? "
" Oh," replied his host, " he has got another out.
That's all."
"In the name of goodness!" cried Mr. Samuel,
preparing to rush to the victim's rescue, " another
whaf? A tooth, a limb — what?"
" No ; a problem. It's only Jones. He always
does that when he has worked one of his problems
out right. We are quite accustomed to it, you see."
The mathematician's yells and stamps of delight
were continued for several seconds, and were then
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 6i
succeeded by a dull, rolling noise, accompanied by
a great scuffling.
" What is he doing now \ " demanded Mr.
Samuel, whose nerves had not yet recovered from
the shock they had received at first.
" Now," said Mr. Calipee, " he is taking his ex-
ercise. He plays at croquet on the carpet. Plea-
sant for us, isn't it X "
Mr. Golightly could not agree with the native of
India on this point.
" Champagne, sir ? " said Mr. Pokyr's man.
" Thank you," said our hero.
"How is your wine, Golightly V inquired Mr.
Calipee, at the same time tasting his own.
. " Very good, thank you."
" What I am drinking is pretty good, too. As
I often tell Pokyr, who drinks a deal of mine,
there is nothing more deceptive than wine. This
bottle is good," he added, with an air of melancholy
resignation ; " but who knows what the next may
ber'
Such was the Nigger's gloomy way of regarding
the future.
In the room above them, Mr. Jones was going
on with his game of croquet with great spirit.
" Dash the fellow ! He's the only drawback to
this staircase," said Pokyr.
62 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" If he was not there/' said the Nigger, " there
would be something else, no doubt. You do not
know Tommy Chutney, do you, Golightly \ "
"No, not at present," replied our hero, smil-
ing.
" You'll like him," said Calipee. " He comes
from Bombay. He's sure to give you a nickname,
Tommy is. He called me Nigger before he had
known me ten minutes."
A nervous horror crept over Mr. Samuel. He
hated nicknames. He hoped it would be some
considerable time before he made Mr. Chutney's
acquaintance.
" Most of the Cutlet men have got a nickname,"
continued Calipee. " There's Blaydes, downstairs
— Tommy called him Jamaica. Jamaica Blaydes
is not bad — is it \ "
" Why do they call him J-Jamaica ? " asked Mr.
Samuel.
" I don't know. Perhaps, because he comes
from Jamaica, or something. After dinner, I must
call upon him."
" I must look some fellows up after dinner," said
Mr. Pokyr. " You will excuse us, I dare say,
Golightly 1 "
Our hero signified his readiness to do so. And,
after coffee and a cigar had been discussed, he re-
Me?noirs 0/ Mr. Golightly. 63
tired to his own rooms ; and, in a few minutes,
betook himself to his virtuous couch.
" Then circumfused around him gentle sleep,
Lulling the sorrows of his heart to rest,
O'ercame his senses."
But how long he slept, he never knew ; as, from
absence of mind, or the newness of his situation,
he had forgotten to wind up his watch. He awoke,
however, with a start. It was dark as pitch.
There was an unearthly boring at his door. He
heard a low whisper. Something was being done.
His first impulse was to shout " Murder " or
** Police." In a second or so the noises had ceased.
He sprang out of bed, and made for the door. He
tried to open it. Ah! locked — no; here is the
key. Why, won't it open \ He pulled, he pushed ;
but the door remained fast as a rock. Horrible
thought ! — are the colleges haunted % Was this a
ghostly freak, or was he at the wrong door \ He
was in a cold perspiration. But the idea of night-
lights relieved him. He found his matches, lighted
his candle, examined the door. It was the only
door in the room, and therefore he had come in
through it. Now it was fast. Leaving his candle
burning on the table beside him, he betook him-
self to bed, but not to sleep. Twice he heard the
64 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
great college clock strike, with deep-toned kneli,
before he fell into a light and disturbed slumber*
haunted by fearful dreams. He awoke. It was
daylight. The candle had burnt down in its
socket. He heard the welcome voice of Sneek, his
gyp-
"Here's a go! They've been and screwed him
in. Ha'-past eight, sir," he called out, " if you'd
like to get up. We shall have the door undone in
a minnit. You're screwed in, sir."
And, as Sophocles said — only in Greek — •
" The bugbears of the dreamful night,
Are food for mirth in clear daylight,"
Here was the mystery of the night explained.
By an instinctive feeling, Mr. Golightly connected
Mr. Pokyr with this business, although he never
found out for certain the perpetrators of the cruel
plot.
He rose, dressed himself with his usual care,
and walked downstairs to call upon his cousin.
He found Mr. George still in bed. He gave him
an account of the pleasing attention which had
been paid him in the night. As a truthful chro-
nicler, I cannot say that Mr. George seemed sur-
prised when he heard it. He said, encouragingly —
" Ah, you must expect these little things at first
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 65
— just in your Freshman's term, you know. I have
been screwed in myself."
" Who should you think did it, now \ " asked
our hero.
" Ton my life, I couldn't tell you — couldn't spot
the man for certain. It may lie between a dozen."
Mr. Samuel Golightly had his suspicions, but
did not pursue the matter further.
" 111 get up," said Mr. George. " Just step
outside and shout for Sneek."
Mr. Samuel did so several times, without elicit-
ing any response. At last, after the sixth time of
shouting, Mr. Sneek appeared on the landing.
" Comin', sir ; comin', dii-ectly ! "
He followed our hero into his cousin's bed-room.
"Now, what'll you have for breakfast, old fel-
low % Say the word. What do you like ? "
Mr. Samuel felt sure he should like anything
that Mr. George liked.
" Come," said that gentleman, " make a choice.
What do you say to a ' spread-eagle ' and some
sausages'? "'Spread-eagle' is a fowl sat upon
and squashed, you know."
" Anything you like," replied Mr. Scimuel.
" All right. Sneek, order a ' spread-eagle,' with
mushrooms, antl some sausages."
The gyp departed immediately for the kitchens.
66 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Now, my boy," said George, " amuse yourself
in the next room whilst I dress."
Our hero accordingly took a survey of his
cousin's quarters. Just at the same moment, Mr.
George made his appearance from his bed-room,
and the cook entered with the '' spread-eagle," and
Mr. Sneek followed with the sausages.
"Tea or cawfee shall I make, sir^* said he,
addressing Mr. George.
"Which do you say, tea or coffee?"
Our hero expressed a preference for the former.
Tea was accordingly made ; and Mr. Samuel was
just taking his second cup, when in walked his
friend, Mr. Pokyr, and Mr. Jamaica Blaydes.
" Oh ! " said George. " Blaydes, my cousin."
Our hero formally saluted Mr. Blaydes. This
gentleman, who kept in the rooms opposite, wore
a yellowish waistcoat and trousers, and a blue
dressing-gown, with red tassels and cord.
Our hero, to whom the easy familiarity of Uni-
versity life was new, thought this was a singular
dress for a morning call.
" You have scarcely been up long enough for
me to ask you how you like Cambridge life," said
Mr. Blaydes, addressing Mr. Golightly.
'' No, scarcely yet ; though I feel sure I shall
like it very much indeed," he replied.
Monoirs of Mr. Go lightly. Gj
" I never knew but one man who didn't/' said
Blaydes; "and in his case want of taste was ex-
cusable. He was going to be married directly he
had got his degree."
" I suppose he got through all his examinations
very fast, then '?" said Mr. Samuel.
"Well, yes," replied Blaydes, "as fast as he
could. He used to sigh for his Euphemia ; say
he hated living in college; and quarrel religiously
with Mrs. Cribb."
"Quarrel with Mrs. Cribb!" exclaimed our hero.
"Why, she seems to be a very friendly old woman.
We are quite good friends already."
"She will be better friends with your brandy
bottle, my dear Samuel Adolphus," remarked Mr.
Pokyr, "as soon as she has made its acquaintance.
What are you going to be up to?" he asked.
" Well," replied Mr. Samuel, " I believe we are
going — that is, George and I — to purchase a cap
and gown for — for me; and to — to call upon the
tutor; and George has promised to show me round
the University."
"If perfectly agreeable,"said Mr. Pokyr, "Blaydes
and I will go with you on the latter errand; but I
never visit the Reverend Titus Bloke unless I am
sent for. So you'll excuse me from joining you in
that visit."
p 2
68 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Oh, certainly," replied Mr. Samuel, smiling.
Accordingly, a few minutes afterwards, they all
set out from Skimmery together.
" You must change that ' topper' for a 'pot' at
once, or you'll be mistaken for a nobleman," said
Mr. Pokyr to our hero. He wore a " pot" him-
self.
Mr. Samuel was debating within himself whether
he should or should not like to be mistaken for a
nobleman, when his cousin remarked that " This
was the place."
They entered a shop on the Parade.
" Cap and gown, sir? Yes," said the obliging
shopkeeper. "Skimmery, sir, may I ask?"
Mr. Samuel replied in the affirmative; and was
rapidly accommodated with the well-known blue
gown and mortar-board.
" 'Pon my word," said Pokyr, " you look quite
interesting in them."
" Gentlemen mostly do, sir," said the tailor.
As Mr. Samuel saw himself reflected at full
length in the glass before him, he really could not
help thinking he did; and wished his Fa and his
Aunt Dorothea could see him in them. However,
he was not long before he transmitted to Oak-
iugham six album portraits, done in the best
style.
Mc^noirs of Mr. Golightly. 69
" Now you want some bands/' said Mr. Pokyr,
glancing at George.
"Bands'?" said Mr. Samuel, in an inquiring
manner.
" Not music, my dear boy — muslin," said Mr.
Pokyr. .
" Shall you require bands, sir," said the tailoi^,
*' at this early — "
Mr. Pokyr looked at the tradesman in a way
that quieted his doubts.
And accordingly our hero was supplied with six
pairs, nicely starched, and, as the man remarked,
*' ready for immediate wear."
Mr. Samuel next purchased the requisite " pot"
hat; and then, with some slight embarrassment,
asked his cousin to lend him some money to pay
for them; as, for anything he knew to the contrary,
his purse was still " on the piano."
" Pay, my dear fellow," said Pokyr — " that's a
thing we never think of here."
" Don't mention it, pray, sir," said the tailor.
" Most happy, sir, to open an account."
" You would feel quite offended, Smith, if he
offered to pay you, would you nof?" demanded
Blaydes, who was himself a customer.
" I most certainly should, sir," said the obligirg
Smith, as he bowed them out of the shop.
70 The Cambridge FresJiman ; or,
The four gentlemen strolled along the Parade.
Like everybody who sees it for the first time, Mr,
Golightly was very much impressed with the chapel
of King's. They strolled on past Corpus.
" What church is this," he asked, pointing to the
edifice at the corner of Silver-street.
" That," replied Pokyr, " is the 'Varsity church.
You can go to-morrow and hear the sermon, if you
like."
" Who preaches there"?"
" All the great swells — four Sundays at a stretch,"
said Pokyr. " Do you know who it is, Blaydes"?"
" I saw it on the Screens as we came through,"
said Mr. Blaydes. " It's the Archbishop of Dublin,
I think."
" I must confess, I don't often go," Mr. Pokyr
remarked. " I've only been once; that was when
the Reverend Titus Bloke, B.D., Fellow and Tutor
of Skimmery, was on. Then I went to his first,
took a front seat in the gallery, just over the pul-
pit, so that he was obliged to see me; and paid the
greatest attention to him. But I could not stand
another dose."
" We have enough of him in chapel/' said
Blaydes.
'' AVhat time does the sermon begin T' inquired
Mr. Samuel, determined to hear the Archbishop,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 71
and send a full account in his first letter to the
Rectory.
• " At eleven o'clock/' said Pokyr. " Shall you
come'?"
" Yes. I am sure I should like to do so," was
our hero's reply.
" You can't miss your way — all in a straight line
from Skimmery. But if you think you can't find
it ao-ain if I am up in time, I will come and show
you," said Mr. Pokyr.
" Tell you what," said George; "we must go and
look up Bloke."
" All right. We will turn back now," said Pokyr.
So they retraced their steps to Skimmeiy.
Here, on going to Mr. Samuel's rooms, they found
that the cap and gown had arrived before them.
Mr. Sneek was busy putting the wine into the
"bins in the winders;" and Mrs. Cribb was there
too, either assisting him or looking on.
'•' Beg your pardon, sir, but I've had a acci-
dent with one," said the gyp, holding up a sherry
bottle with the neck knocked off, and half the
wine gone.
It afterwards struck Mr. Samuel that he did not
notice any on the carpet.
"What had we better do with this, sirr' he
asked of Mr. George.
72 The Cambridge Freshma^i; or,
" No reason that I see, Sneek, for breaking one;
but, as it is done, you and Mrs. Cribb had better
have that one."
"Thank you, sir!" said Sneek and Mrs. Cribb
together.
"Not as I care about wine," said she; "for,
when I do take anythink, as John Sneek knows, it
is a glass of sperrits."
" I think you are not very particular, Mrs. Cribb,"
George said.
"Which, sir, it would ill become me to be, havin'
been twelve year a helper on this staircase before
bein' relevated to the duties of bedmaker. How
did you sleep, sir?" she said, addressing Mr. Sa-
muel, who at this moment made his appearance,
attired in full academicals; "for, as I said to John
Sneek, the very fust thing in the morning, to have
gone and screwed you in the very fust night, it were
certingly owdacious, to say the least."
" I must say, Mrs. Cribb, I have slept better,"
replied our hero.
" For as far as the sheets went," continued the
bedmaker, " as I said to John Sneek afore you ar-
rived, ' John Sneek,' I said, ' them sheets is aired
as well as if I was a-goin' to sleep in 'em myself,'
which I am always most pertickler; for my poor
husband, which, as John Sneek knows, is d con*
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 73
victed martyr to rheumaticks, always is attributed to
havin' slep' in a damp bed. And," she added, "if
you are a-goin' to call on the tutor, as I come
through the quad I see him a-goin' into his rooms,
sir."
With Mr. Samuel's first appearance in a cap and
gown, we commence a fresh paragraph. At first
he felt a little awkward in hfs new dress; and all
the while was very conscious that he had got it on,
but withal rather pleased than not. To his credit
let it be recorded, that he soon felt quite at home
in it; and that his gown was soon as shabby, and
his cap as battered and broken, as a young gentle-
man's of fashion should be; though this was brought
about rather by the efi'orts of his friends than by
any exertions of his own. He would himself have
preferred a gown as spotless as his character, and a
cap with a board well equilateral and. rectangular.
Mr. Pokyr, however, soon spoilt the corners and
cut the tassel of the latter; whilst, at the very first
"wine" he went to, he found himself, after a deal
of searching for his own, left with the choice of
three gowns, which I can only describe as bad,
worse, and worst.
He would have bought a new gown, had not his
cousin George interfered to prevent this wasteful
outlay of the family property.
74 The Cambridge Freshmafi; or,
Having followed his cousin up a short flight of
stairs, he found himself opposite a door with a small
brass knocker, and above it was inscribed " Mr.
Bloke."
Mr. George knocked. A rather weak treble
voice was heard to say, " Come in."
They went in, and Mr. Samuel Golightly was in
the presence of his tutor.
Was the short gentleman in spectacles, who was
advancing to shake hands with him, and nervously
asking him " how he did," the same man who had
sent the ten thousand and three corrections to Lid-
dell and Scott ^ It was.
Mr. Samuel felt much more at his ease than he
would have done if the great Don had been a man
of commanding presence.
*' Pray sit down, Mr. Golightly," he said, rub-
bing his hands together. " Pray be seated. I have
had a letter from your father, apprising me of your
arrival. He expresses a hope that you will make
great progress during your stay here. I am sure I
hope so too. You will have to attend chapel every
day, and twice on Sunday. You will also attend
two lectures every morning: Mr. Bloss will lecture
upon Tacitus at ten, and Mr. Summer will lecture
upon algebra from eleven to twelve. I hope, at
the end of the term, they will both give me a good
Alemairs of Mr. Golightly. 75
account of you. If at any time you require my
advice, you will always be able to see me in a
morning."
Mr. Samuel thanked him; and perceiving that
the interview was ended, rose with his cousin to
go.
" I wish you good morning, gentlemen," said the
tutor; and in came another Freshman, to go through
the same ceremony.
IMr, Bloke had to see a great many people every
day, and consequently was obliged to get rid of
them quickly ; and no man could do this with more
perfect politeness.
Mr. Samuel left the room with a most favour-
able impression of Mr. Bloke, and of tutors and
dons generally. '
"Get into a row," said Mr. George, sapiently,
" and then you'll see his teeth !"
Mr. Samuel fervently hoped he should not get
into a row.
"Have you ever got into one, George?" he
asked.
" Well, Bloke has had to send for m3 once or
twice ; but Pokyr's often going."
" Eeally !" said Mr. Samuel, " is he, George ? I
am not surprised. Pokyr is such a joker."
'* Ah ! but Bloke never says much to him. You
76 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
see, they've got political influence, and Bloke
means to be a bishop."
There might be something in this. At least, it
was generally thought that if anybody else had
done half what Pokvr had done, he would have
been sent down, and not requested to come back
again.
The political influences of the outer world pene-
trate at times into the oldest colleges in our two
ancient and sister Universities.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 'j'j
CHAPTER V.
MR, GOLIGHTLY CONVEYS HIS IMPRESSION OF CAM-
BRIDGE TO HIS FAMILY IN A CIRCULAR LETTER.
jROBABLY there is one thing that nearly
every rightly disposed young gentleman
does very soon after his arrival either at
Cambridge or Oxford — that is, to write an epistle
to his friends at home, containing, according to his
temperament and capacity for polite letter writing,
a more or less flowery description of his first im-
pressions of University life. Our hero — whom the
readers of this biographical memoir will soon know-
as a " rightly disposed young gentleman," if they
have not already arrived at that conclusion — proved
no exception to this rule. Having laid in a stock
of note paper, on which the college arms were
neatly stamped in blue and red, with the words
" St. Mary's College, Cambridge," by way of fur-
ther explanation, in embossed letters underneath,
he was in a position to write home with be-
78 The Cambridge Freshmmt; or,
coming dignity. He had been received into the
lap of his Alma Mater on a day of ill-omen for
starting on a journey — namely, on a Friday ; but,
as the college authorities themselves had fixed that
day for his reception, this difficulty could only be
got over by compliance with the injunction thus
issued; Mrs. Golightly having remarked — when
her natural sagacity and a consultation of her
almanac enabled her to arrive at a conclusion —
" That the seventeenth of October in that year
certainly fell on a Friday, and above all things she
disliked beginning anything on that day ; but she
supposed her son must go, as that was the day^
fixed ; and all she could say was, she hoped no
harm would come of it."
The Rector and Mr. Morgan having reasoned
with her, she was pursuaded to take a more hopeful
view of the exigency which compelled her son to
issue forth from her care on so ill-fated a day.
Now, nothing would have induced any members
of the family at Oakingham Rectory to write a
letter or sign their names to any document on a
Friday, unless under stress of circumstan(?es ; as,
for instance, in the case of the worthy old militia
Captain, of whom it is recorded, in the family
archives, that he signed his will on a Friday. But
the exigency of his case was peculiar: though
Me7noirs of Mr. Golightly. 79
perfectly conscious, and, as the phrase is, in full
possession of his faculties to the last, his doctors
had warned him that it was more than probable
that he would not live to see Saturday morning.
The patient here remarked, in a voice scarcely
above a whisper — but his words were plainly heard
by his son, who has often repeated them to the
family — " That if his time was come, he must re-
concile himself to his fate ; but he had always
looked upon Friday as an unlucky day, and it
seemed likely to keep up its character to the end."
However, the old gentleman's prejudices were
not confirmed, as he survived until the Sunday,
having signed a codicil to his will on Saturday, by
which he devised a certain close of land to the use
of the poor of the parish of Oakingham for ever.
The poor had been overlooked in the hurry of
preparing his will, for the gallant Captain had a
fine, old-fashioned prejudice against making his
will, not at all uncommon among the country
gentlemen of his day ; and he had a saying which
was ever in his mouth, if any of his friends
broached the subject — none of his children would
have done it for the world — which saying was,
" that, for his part, he would never bring himself
to believe that a man would make a will unless he
had a presentiment of something about to happen ;
So The Canibridge Freshman; or,
for," he would add, wisely wagging his head, and
sipping the old port that so greatly aggravated his
complaint, " you recollect poor old Squire Frampton,
of Frampton-in-the-Marsh "? 1 well remember one
day, at quarter-sessions, he told me, as he stepped
out of lawyer Quilpenn's office, on the market-
square at Fuddleton, ' Golightly,' says he, ' how
d'ye doT and, pointing over his shoulder and laugh-
ing, says he, ' I've just signed my will.' That was
Saturday : he was killed in the hunting field on
the Monday after was Guy Fawkes's day : " and
here the Captain was accustomed to bring his
chalky old knuckles down on the dining table with
a bang that made the glasses jump. I might feel
that an apology was necessary for so long a digres-
sion concerning the Captain ; but, as the Golightlys
are a Conservative family, they have many traditions
in which they religiously believe ; and with them,
for many generations, the rule has been, " as did the
father so does the son."
The immediate ancestor of the Rector had, as we
have shown, the strongest objection to the per-
formance of any important act on a Friday. The
Reverend Samuel Golightly inherited the same
prepossession in all its pristine force ; for once,
after a quarrel with a refractory churchwarden
the parish had elected, the parson of Oakingham,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 8 1
though boiUng over with rage at a letter he had
received from that functionary, and though every
finger itched with desire to take pen and ink, and
have at him — Bobbles wick his name was — let who
might say nay; — the day was Friday: he waited: in-
dignant as he was, he waited. Tuffiey took him up
tea to his study at a quarter-past eleven, wonderinj?
'* what could keep the master up, and me up too."
As the last sta'oke of the midnight hour, by Oak-
ingham Church clock, died away into silence, the
Rector seized pen, ink, and paper, and annihilated
Bobbleswick — in the opinion of his own family :
though I grieve to say irony was lost on the church-
warden, who was one of those intelligent, honest
Britons who call a spade a spade, and don't know-
it again as an horticultural and agricultural imple-
ment
These prejudices against Fridays in general —
derived immediately from his father and grand-
father, and more remotely from many generations
of Golightlys in succession — so far penetrated the
mind of Mr. Samuel Adolphus, our hero, as to pre-
vent his thinking of writing home on that particular
Friday on which he first arrived at the University
of Cambridge. There were other reasons in the
matter, though, which would have produced a
similar result in more practical and less ideal
G
82 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
minds than that of our hero. In the first place,
he had forgotten to bring any note paper with
him ; secondly, the shops were shut when dinner
was over, and he thought of letter writing ; and
thirdly, the evening mail had gone out. This in-
formation was imparted to him by Mr. Sneek.
" The post goes at eight o'clock — leastways,
without a nextra stamp, which takes 'em up to
ha'-past, sir."
In reply to a query from his new master, Mr.
Sneek continued —
"As to note paper and envelopes, most neatly
painted with the Cawllege harms, sir, is to be had
at most of such shops as commonly sells it, which
I would run now and get some, but the shops is
closed ; not but what I dessay some of 'em would
open ; but the post is gawn. ( A-cowdn', sir " — this
observation Mr. Sneek made with the side of his
mouth not in common use, Cirusting half his head
through the doorway.) "Mr, Eustace Jones, sir,
have some readin' gentlemen to tea with him,
sir. His is alius teas. Inexpensive an/ "-atis-
fyin'."
Of this mathematical gentleman it might be
said, as it was of somebody else, I believe —
" Tea veniente die, tea decedente bibebat;"
Memoirs of J\l7\ Golightly. 83
which our lady readers will pardon us for render-
ing thus —
"Tea he drank with the morning Hght:
Tea he drank till late midnight."
Mr. Sneek, the honest and praiseworthy gyp of
the staircase, never lost an opportunity of impress-
ing upon the Freshman minds that came under his
notice his own notions of the undesirability of their
contracting similar habits. After all, cold tea and
fragments of tough muffin are poor perquisites for
a gyp.
" 'Xcuse me, Mr. Golightly, sir — don't be led
into tea or readin', sir; but be a gentleman of
sperrit — 'xcuse me, sir — like your cousin, Mr.
George — which I don't want no better master —
and the Hon'ble Pokyr."
With these words the gyp withdrew, and as-
cended to the region of tea and the Calculus on
the floor above.
At the risk of the imputation being cast upon
me of trying to appear learned, after the manner
of " Our Own " when representing the interests of
England and his paper abroad, by having both
Greek and Latin in the same chapter, I shall here
remark, that the man who performs the duties and
helps himself to something more than the perqui-
G 2
§4 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
sites of an indoor servant out of livery, at the
two Universities, is called at each by a different
name.
" At Cambridge * gyp,' at Oxford * scout,'
Collegians call the idle lout
Who brushes clothes, of errands runs,
Absorbs their tips, and keeps off duns."
Of the word gyp, I may remark that, upon the
authority of a distinguished Oxford scholar, it is
not improbably derived from yv\b, or atywTrtde, a
vulture. This derivation is ingenious and remark-
ably apropos, as the gyp possesses all the voracious
qualities of the bird of prey in a very high state
of development. And, on a kindred subject, it
might be worth the attention of moralists and
social philosophers to consider the causes which
have combined, in the course of centuries, to make
gyps and bedmakers at the Universities, and laun-
dresses appendant and appurtenant to chambers in
the several Inns of Court, and some other places,
such particularly disagreeable people to have any
dealings with. Out of regard for early English
wit, it may be suggested that the cleanly title en-
joyed by the latter was given them as a pleasing
satire upon the state of dirt they have always been
found in for many generations past.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 8-
The various reasons enumerated above having
prevented our hero from addressing his family from
his new quarters on the night of his first arrival
there, he proceeded to remedy the omission on the
day following. He had not forgotten his aunts'
injunction at parting, to write to them as soon as
he got to Cambridge. Accordingly, on Saturday
he spent half an hour in the afternoon in writing
to Miss Dorothea and her sister, Miss Harriet;
reserving for Monday a circular letter which should
— though nominally written to his father — really
be addressed to the whole family, including his
late tutor, Mr. Morgan.
The letter bearing the words, " St. Mary's Coll.,
Cam.,'' underneath the famous arms of that royal
and religious foundation, began with —
" My dear Fa " — when he had got thus far,
our hero hardly knew how to go on, such was the
effect of the emharras des richesses under which he
laboured. However, his father's parting advice to be
cool, calm, and collected under even the most trying
circumstances, came to his mind at the right mo-
ment; and, stimulated by the recollection of the
parental maxim, he proceeded : " You heard of my
safe arrival" (of course, he did not stammer when
he wrote — -or sang) " in the letter I wrote to Aunt
<s6 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Dorothea. I must say, I like Cambridge very
well, but I feel rather strange. I have not yet
found out who screwed me in. I have not been
screwed in since ; but, as somebody is screwed in
every night, I am expecting it again. Now I
know all about it, I am not at all afraid; as Sneek,
the servant — or gyp, as he is called — can always
* dig me out,' as they call it. Pokyr calls it ' un-
earthing.' He is a very agreeable fellow, but
rather given to practical jokes — things I very
much dislike. I am sure, I should never think of
playing a practical joke upon anybody. Then
why should I be joked ^ is a question I ask myself.
Yesterday morning, having attended the early ser-
vice in chapel, and breakfasted, I left the col-
lege for what I had been told was the University
Church ('Varsity Church they call it, as you
know). I dressed myself, as George told me, in
my cap and gown. I put on bands like those you
wear on Sundays — of which I was induced to pur-
chase six pairs (they may be useful to you, and I
will bring them when I come home for the vaca-
tion) — my lavender kid gloves that Aunt Harriet
gave me ; and, as the day was showery, I took my
green silk umbrella. 1 noticed that I was stared
at as I walked along the streets; and when I
arrived at what I had been told was the University
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 87
Church, and was trying to open the iron gate —
which, as it was two minutes past eleven, I thought
had probably been closed — I was startled by a loud
laugh. It was Pokyr — who, with a friend named
Blaydes, and an Indian gentleman, Calipee by
name, were laughing very loudly at me. I saw
at once that I was the victim of a hoax. Mr.
Blaydes took off my bands; Mr. Calipee told me
to put my lavender gloves in my pocket ; and Mr.
Pokyr said he would take care of my umbrella —
'mushroom' was the term he used. I found my
umbrella was what he meant, as he took it from
me. What he did with it I don't know. I have
not seen it since. It had disappeared a minute
afterwards, for I observed that he was not carry-
ing it. The place was not a church, but the Uni-
versity Printing Press. The architecture is eccle-
siastical, and hence my mistake. You will say,
*Do not be imposed upon a second time.' I pro-
mise you, I will not. Perhaps, if I had remem-
bered your advice, I might have been more upon
my guard. At the corner of a street we met a
gentleman, De Bootz by name. I mention him
because, as you are fond of genealogical studies,
the arms of his family may interest you. Pokyr
says they are on a field ermine, a boot stagnant,
proper ; crest, a spur ; and motto, ' Usque ad finem
S8 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
luceat ' — * SMne to the last.' Mr. De Bootz was
ahead of us when Pokyr told me this ; and Mr.
Blaydes added, ' I believe that man's great great
great grandfather invented blacking.' If so, the
arms are very appropriate, and you won't think
any the worse of him for this. Mr. De Bootz took
us to the back parlour of a small cigar shop in
Brownlow-street, where we found some other gen-
tlemen drinking beer out of a huge flagon. Here
they introduced me to a Miss Bellair — the Brown-
street Venus, as she is called. She seems a very
lively and amiable young lady, and deservedly
popular, as her manners are very agreeable. Her
mother was present also. It is her mother's cigar
shop. After dinner, we had some wine and des-
sert in Pokyr's room. He says he always keeps a
chapel religiously once a-week ; so we all went in
surplices, as it was Sunday. Sherry never used to
disagree with me; but I felt very confused, and
rather giddy. However, to keep myself awake, I
road this sentence — which I found on the fly-leaf
of the battered Prayer Book which was in my seat
— ninety-one times during the service, keeping
count of the number of the times. It was as fol-
lows: — 'Strongbeerium collegianum bibere malum
est justum antequam in chapellam ineas.' It is, as
you will perceive, dog Latin; and I felt it was pe-
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 89
culiarly applicable to me, and to sherry as well
as beer; accordingly, I shall be very careful in
future. I think it was the heat of the gas and
candles. With kind regards to you all, I will
here close this letter."
Our hero had given a promise many times to the
members of his family, individually and collectively,
that he would faithfully report to them the various
incidents of his life; and, as will be seen, he en-
tered upon this course at once. But he found very
soon that he could not keep it up with advantage
to all parties, and therefore it has happened that
this history is a biography instead of an autobio-
graphy. Mr. Samuel Adolphus had, in the next
few days immediately following his Sunday visit
to the home of the Brown-street Venus, so far im-
proved his opportunities, that he already felt him-
self very deeply in love. With that rashness and
utter regardlessness of all ulterior consequences
which is characteristic of the first attack of the
great passion, our hero was seated in his easy
chair, turning over in his mind the propriety of at
once laying his virgin heart at the feet of his
bewitching inamorata, and wondering what his
Aunt Dorothea would say when he introduced
Miss Beilair to the party at the Rectory as his
90 The Cambridge FresJunan ; or^
bride, when he was aroused by a timid tap at his
door.
" Come in," cried our hero, his heart beating
fast and nervously,
A Httle boy — a precocious little boy he had not
the slightest difficulty in recognizing as Mrs. Bel-
lair's errand boy — entered, cap in hand, and pre-
sented to Mr. Golightly's notice a tiny, scented,
pink note.
He opened it hastily, and devoured the contents
— as novelists say. These were as follows: —
" Dear Mr. Golightly — I cannot misinterpret
your conduct. Your heart is young, tender, warm.
You love me. Dare I say, without for an instant
seeming to throw aside the veil of woman's modesty
— her brightest jewel — that, from the moment I
first saw you, I felt that there was something about
you I had observed in no one else? Oh! do not, I
pray you, put a wrong construction on these inno-
cent words, written without guile at the prompting
of Cupid; but the constraint under which we meet
in Brown-street is too great for my nerves. So
many are round, and my mamma is so very watch-
ful over her daughter's conduct, we can never be
alone. Say you will meet me, then, in half an
hour, at the Backs, beneath the third elm tree,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 91
opposite the gate of St. Mary's. There no one
shall hear, but the winds of heaven only be lis-
teners to the words we speak. If I have not
mistaken your feelings — come. If I have — which
Heaven forbid! — breathe not this confession to
mortal ears, as you are a gentleman, and an orna-
ment to that gown you wear. — Ever yours (in a
flutter of hope),
"Emily Bellair."
" No. 91, Brown-street."
"Is there an answer, sir, please?" asked the
precocious boy. " I was to wait for an answer."
"Who sent youl" demanded Mr. Golightly, in
breathless haste. " Who sent you?"
" Missis, sir."
" W^ait one instant," said our hero, fumbling in
his waistcoat pocket for a shilling, and nearly
giving the messenger of Cupid a sovereign by mis-
take.
Having done this, he retired to his bed-room,
and read the missive again and again. He sponged
his temples, heated with the dehrious whirl of hope
and love conflicting in his breast.
Calmer after this operation, he emerged from his
bed-chamber; and, addressing the boy as uncon-
cernedly as he could, said —
92 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" The only answer is — Yes!"
He was under the trees at the back of his college
for some minutes before the half-hour had elapsed,
with the precious pink note still in his hand.
True to her time, the lady came.
How was it, then, that, when the thick veil
which had enshrouded her features fell to the
ground — how was it that, when Mr. Golightly, on
his knees, was vowing eternal love, a cruel gust of
wind tore off the cloak and revealed the form, not
of Emily Bellair, but the startling truth that the
illustrious hero of this history was at the feet of
Miss Jane Sneek, daughter of Mr. John Sneek,
The further account of this surprising matter is
too important for the end of a chapter. With it
we begin Chapter VI.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly,
CHAPTER VI.
IN WHICH IT IS SATISFACTORILY EXPLAINED HOVT IT
CAME TO PASS THAT MISS JANE SNEEK APPEAllED
IN THE PLACE OF MISS BELLAIR.
|N the present chapter of this eventful his-
tory, our friend and able coadjutor, "Phiz,"
favours us with the portraiture of Mr. Go-
lightly at the feet of Miss Sneek, the only daughter
of the worthy personage who introduced himself
as Mr. Sneek, gyp, and whose Christian name of
John was at the same time imparted by the com-
municative Mrs. Cribb.
It remains for us, in accordance with the pro-
mise which brought our chapter to a sufficiently
exciting conclusion, to commence the present one
by clearing up this mysterious substitution of one
young lady for another, by a full and complete ex-
planation of what took place both before and after,
as well as on the momentous occasion itself.
We svill plunge at once in medias res — or "begin
94 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
in the middle," as the little boy remarked when he
bit the rosy-cheeked apple. Our hero, as has be-
fore been recounted, was at his post — or rather,
tree — some minutes before the time fixed for his
meeting with Miss Emily Bellair by the sender of
the pink note. He had no particular difficulty in
discovering the spot indicated in the billet, as there
were only three trees opposite the gate of St.
Mary's College which opened on to the Backs,
and as those three trees were, though stripped of
their leaves by the rough autumnal blasts — there
had been a high wind ten days before — unmistak-
ably elms. Indeed, it only required such a loiow-
ledge of arithmetical science as will enable a man
to count three correctly to discover which of those
elms was the third elm. Mr. Golightly possessed
the requisite knowledge; and, with characteristic
promptitude, began to count the trees. Here he
found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Count-
ing from left to right, there stood the third elm.
Counting from right to left, there stood the third
elm. Metaphorically speaking, the trees changed
places by the process; for No. 1 became No. 3.
Hevolving this matter in his mind, he happily
thought of a not very new, and perhaps not very
true, classical quotation, which applied to his own
case; and saying to himself, "under the middle
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 95
tree you will be safest," he stationed himself under
the spreading branches of elm No. 2. The trees
being only a few yards apart, he could easily see
all three from the spot where he stood.
Ho^vever, he did not stand still more than a
second or two. His feelings were wrought up to
fever heat by the missive he held in his hand. Ac-
cor<^?^gly, he calmed his agitated breast, though
only in a slight degree, by pacing up and down
the gravel walk in front of the elm trees. In his
fond clasp he still enfolded the pink note; and,
while he waited for the writer, he read and re-read
it several times.
The principal objects that were conspicuous in
the scenery by which he was surrounded were the
noble trees of stately growth which form the long
avenue at the backs of the colleges. And, as he
did not know from what point of the compass the
fair Miss Bellair would approach their appointed
trysting-place, our hero strained his eyes in his
efforts to make their vision penetrate farther into
the fast-gathering twilight of the autumn after-
noon than any lover's eyes, constructed upon
the common optical principles, were capable of
doing.
At length — for, to the imagination of love, time
flew that afternoon with very faltering wing, and
g6 The Cambridge FresJunan; or,
seconds seemed hours, and minutes days and nights
— as Mr. Gohghtly was very intently gazing in one
direction, his quick ear detected approaching foot-
steps in that opposite — soft footfalls, but fast. Oh.
thought of rapture! Was it Miss Bellair? He
wheeled round suddenly, in an imposing, military
manner. He rather regretted that he was not in
full academicals, as she had said the gown was an
ornament to him — or stay, that he was an orna-
ment to the gown he wore. Which was_it? There
was no time to decide ; for there, advancing with a
step and mien worthy — as our hero thought — of
any fabled fairy princess, came a lady down the
walk from the college which he himself had trod-
den, muffled and closely veiled, with a modesty
as charming as it was becoming to the most
graceful and candid of her sex. The lady was
close to him. Mr, Golightlv was near-sighted
— a distinction he inherited from his mother ; but
there could be no mistake, it was the figure of
Emily Bellair. He felt somewhat embarrassed.
He had never been placed in similar circumstances
before. Somehow, he wished he had had a few
minutes longer to think over some neatly turned
and appropriate poetic speech. His heart went
pit-a-pat with irregular beatings. His throat felt
dry. His voice seemed to have tucked itself away
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 97
in as distant a place as it could. His courage,
however, did not for one instant fail.
" A-h-m ! '' said he—" a-h-m !"
Was it possible that, through her thick veil,
Miss Bellair did not recognize him] It seemed
almost as if this were the case, for she continued
her walk, and actually passed him, though at a
slower pace.
Equal to this emergency, and breathing an in-
nocent imprecation upon thick veils, Mr. Golightly
instantly placed himself at the lady's side. They
walked onwards for a few steps in silence.
"A-h-m! a-Miss Bellair — may I venture — that
is, may I dare to — t-a-ake the liberty of addressing
you as Emily V
" What does this mean ? " said a musical voice,
in its softest and most dulcet tones.
Fearing he had proceeded too hastily in the
matter, and asked his first question too abruptly,
Mr. Golightly continued, in his most captivating
manner —
" Pray pardon me, Miss Bellair ; but, from the
terms of that note which I hold in my hand " —
here our hero pressed his hand, with the precious
note in it, to his manly heart, in the most approved
style of half-hoping, half-doubting lovers. And, ex-
cept we believe that the language of love rises
H
98
The Cambrids[e Freshman; or,
untaught to the human lips, we may wonder where
Mr. Golightly learned these arts.
" What does this mean % " again the lady asked,
with soft accent.
MR. GOLIGHTLY FINDS HIMSELF AT THE FEET OF
MISS JANE SNEEK.
She stopped, and looked, from under her veil,
full into our hero's face.
" It m-means/' replied the gallant Golightly,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 99
construing her question as a rebuke for his own
mistrustfulness, and an intimation from the lady
that apology was quite uncalled for — " It means
that I am f-fascinated by your — your charms, m-my
dear Miss B-bellair."
" Mr. Golightly," said the lady, softly, " there is
some mistake."
" Not the 1-least mistake in the world," replied
Mr. Samuel Adolphus. " My intentions are most
honourable. L-let me call you Emily — d-do!"
The lady moved a pace or two forwards; Mr,
Golightly placed himself elegantly upon his knees
immediately in her path. His right hand covered
the button of his coat that was over his heart.
His hat and the pink note fell on the gravel path
together.
"Em-Emily — you do not refuse me that privi-
lege \ "
"I'm generally called Jane, which is my name,"
the lady was saying, when a sudden gust of wind
blew off her veil, and revealed to our much-as-
tonished hero the features of Miss Sneek.
He was completely dumbfoundered — to use a
Scotch phrase — by the shock his astonished nerves
received. He looked down, abashed, at the gravel,
trying to collect his thoughts, and recover his self-
possession. When he looked up again, and was
H 2
lOO The Cambridge Freshvmn; or^
about to offer an explanation of his conduct and
account satisfactorily for his present attitude, the
lady was gone. Miss Sneek had fairly taken to
her heels and run.
" Gr-gracious ! " said Mr. Golightly, faintly.
He was preparing to rise, and looking about him
for his hat and the pink note, when he felt a gentle
knock at his back. Startled and alarmed, he looked
quickly round, and, to his utter confusion, beheld
Mr. Pokyr's tall and athletic figure immediately be-
hind him, with his hands spread over him in an
attitude of benediction. At a few paces from Mr.
Pokyr were three other gentlemen Mr. Golightly
had no difficulty in recognizing as Mr. Calipee, Mr.
Jamaica Blaydes, and Mr. De Bootz. One or two
others were there, also, with whom he was not
personally acquainted.
"Mr. Golightly, sir," said Mr. Pokyr, sternly,
" pray explain yourself What is the meaning of
this unseemly attitude ? "
Mr. Samuel slowly rose, and stared vacantly
around him.
" Put on your hat, sir."
" I-I don't know what I've d-done with my hat,"
Mr. Golightly replied, placing his hands on his
head, to assure himself it was not there.
" Is this your property ? " asked Mr. Blaydes,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. loi
holding forth to view a pink note, somewhat the
worse for wear.
"I-it certainly — that is, it w-was/* replied our
hero.
" I move that it he read," remarked Calipee,
talking as if he were at the Union on a Thursday
nio;ht.
" Have you any objection, Golightly ? " asked
Mr. Blaydes.
Our hero was now fairly surrounded by his
friends.
*' I would really r-rather you would not," said
Mr. Golightly, plaintively.
" I think we must read it," said Mr. Pokyr.
Had Mr. Golightly's frame of mind been more
calm, he might have perceived that, as his friend
Pokyr carried his threat into execution, he did not
require to refer much to the document itself: he
seemed to know the contents almost by heart.
This, however, our hero failed to observe, being,
not unnaturally, absorbed in the peculiar circum-
stances of the situation. The letter was read from
beginning to end by Mr. Pokyr — the reader being
many times interrupted by the gentlemen above-
named, and by several others who had joined them
— accidentally, of course. These interruptions con-
sisted chiefly of cheers and congratulations. Under
I02 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
different circumstances, Mr. Golightly would, with
his natural politeness, have acknowledged these
marks of attention and esteem ; as it was, he stood
in the midst of the little knot of admirers that sur-
rounded him, simply stupefied.
"All this must be explained," said Mr. Pokyr,
when he had finished reading the note. " I must
take care of this epistle myself."
" Others are interested," said Mr. Blaydes.
" Other men are in love with Miss Bellair."
" They will be jealous, Golightly."
" There is Tommy Chutney, over head and ears
in love," said Calipee, mournfully.
" Put your hat on, Golightly," said Pokyr. " It
is disgraceful to see you out here without a
hat."
" I wish I could," replied the hero of this his-
tory, looking appealingly round for his hat, but
altogether unsuspicious of foul play.
" There is the dinner bell," said Pokyr. "Come
back to your rooms for your cap and gown. Did
you come out without your hat \ "
" Cer-certainly not," replied Mr. Golightly, more
hurt than indignant. " I had it on, of course."
"Where is it, then?"
" Come, that won't do for us, Golightly," said
Mr. Blaydes.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 103
" Where did you lunch ? and what was the
tipple \ " asked another of his friends.
" I am pl-placed in an awkward pre-predica-
ment," Mr. Golightly began.
" You are, undoubtedly — especially as it is not
improbable the tutor saw you."
" We saw a Don in the distance," cried several
voices.
At length, Mr. Golightly was taken under the
protection of Pokyr and Blaydes, and, followed by
his other friends, was walked off towards his own
rooms, which were not many yards distant from
the scene of his discomfiture.
" You are a model Freshman," said Blaydes.
Mr. Golightly felt he was not.
" Why did Venus fly from Apollo," asked Pokyr.
" It w-wasn't Miss Bellair," said our hero, apolo-
getically.
" Not Miss Bellair— who then?"
" The gyp's daughter."
" Sneek's \ " said Mr. Pokyr, sternly. " Go-
lightly, you are a disgrace to us ! What can you
see to admire in her \ "
" But I don't admire her."
" Then why were you on your knees'?" urged
Blaydes.
" I will explain all," said our hero, taking refuge
I04 The Cambridge Freshmaii ; or,
in his own rooms, and heartily wishing he could
find some excuse for not going into Hall to din-
ner.
" Yes, we demand an explanation of this affair,"
said Mr. Pokyr. " An explanation is the least you
can give us."
" Meet with it, I vote," said Mr. Calipee, emerg-
ing from his rooms in cap and gown.
During dinner, Mr. Golightly was made the butt
of many harmless little pleasantries ; and the pink
note, and various not very accurate versions of the
affair of love, went the round of Mr. Pokyr's set.
Our hero retreated as soon as he had swallowed
some mouthfuls of dinner : it became apparent to
him that he was being rallied upon his late adven.
ture.
He made his way across the quad, and, rushing
up his staircase, gained his own rooms, pulling to
the door after him — or, as the phrase is, " sporting
his oak" — for the sake of privacy. He felt it ne-
cessary to be alone, that he might devise some
scheme of action worthy of himself and his father's
son.
But he was mistaken: he was not the only oc-
cupant of his room. Near his fireplace stood Mr.
Sneek, in an unusual and defiant posture. The
weight of his rather corpulent person was thrown
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 105
upon his right extremity, while his left ditto was
slightly advanced. One hand was behind his back,
the other pulled a curly lock of hair that graced his
classic forehead.
" Good hevennin', sir," said Mr. Sneek, taking
the initiative in the discussion.
Mr. Golightly forgot his recent interview with
Miss' Sneek for the moment.
*' Evening, Sneek," he said, in answer to the
gyp's salutation, and without noticing the tone of
mingled injury and defiance in which it was ut-
tered.
"Good heve — nin', sir!" observed Mr. Sneek,
with increased emphasis and rising colour.
" You have brought up some coals'? The coal-
scuttle was empty before dinner, I know," con-
tinued Mr. Golightly, glancing rather nervously at
the receptacle for his coals.
He recollected his little affair with Mr. Sneek's
daughter; and, with an unerring instinct, he felt
sure her papa had come with the intention of ask-
ing an explanation, or " kicking up a row." Mr.
Golightly did not, at this early period of his under-
graduate career, know of that speedy way out of
almost all Cambridge troubles, where only a "cad's"
woimded feelings are in the case. He was igno-
rant of that healing balm — that salve of boundless
io6 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
power — that silver key, potent to open every door
as any fairy " open sesame." Had he fortunately
known of this magic talisman, it would have ma-
terially relieved his feelings; as it was, he felt con-
siderably embarrassed as he seated himself on the
edge of his sofa.
" There his coals m your box, if you please, sir,"
said Mr. Sneek, giving the curl a pull, and making
a low bow. " Hand there is, likewise, coals in
your gyp-room, sir; hand, I 'ope, as long as you
keep on this staircase, coals — hif required — will
alius be found at 'and. But it is not of coals I
wish to say a word or two, sir — with permission"
— here Mr. Sneek bowed lower than before —
" and not taking no pertickler libbatty, I 'ope,
sir."
The honest man smiled within himself — " tickled
inly with laughter," in fact — when he had brought
this speech to a satisfactory conclusion. He eyed
Mr. Golightly, his master, as a snake might view a
fine plump pigeon before he swallowed him up.
His master devoutly wished that he had not
"sported" his door, but left it open. He wanted
Pokyr or his cousin George to come in, to put the
gyp to flight. But the door was fast, and assist-
ance could not come. This fact was not lost upon
Mr. Sneek.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly, 107
In turn our hero bowed, as an intimation to Mr.
Sneek to proceed.
" The subjeck I should wish to mention, sir —
under permission, sir — is delicate to a parent's
feelin's."
Here Mr. Sneek sighed heavily — threw the
weight of his body on his left leg — which bent and
bowed slightly under it — advanced his right foot to
the position his left had lately occupied, rolled his
eyes about in an alarming manner, and placed the
disengaged hand upon the place where his heart
might be supposed to be.
"G-go on," said his master, nervously; as one
who would say, " I deserve it all"
" My daughter, sir, she says to me, when I was
quietly a-taking my pint of buttery beer, usual at
tea, she says to me — rushin' in of a sudden, and
puttin' her mother into a state as nothin', I assure
you, sir, on my word, but six of pale brandy neat
got her round again — she says to me, my daughter
says — ' Father.' ' Well, Jane,' I harnsered. ' Mr.
Golightly, the new gentleman on your staircase,
have behaved most extraordinary; and father,' she
says — with your leave, sir — ' I think the gentle-
man's mad.' "
"M-mad!" ejaculated our hero, "No doubt —
no doubt."
io8 The Cambridge Freshman ; or^
" 'Madr says I. 'Mr. Golightly aint mad, not
in the least' — thinkin' the gal was making game
on me. ' Well, father,' my daughter says, ' he
went right down on his knees.' "
" Too true," sighed Mr. Samuel.
" Now, sir," said Mr. Sneek, with much dignity,
" my feelin's as a father — and as a parent — was
hurt. ' Jane,' I said, ' your char-acter is beyond
dispute.' AVith permission, sir, may I ask the
meanin' of this extraordinary conduct on your
part towards a innocent and inoifensive young
person^"
Mr. Golightly gave his gyp the best explanation
he could of the affair.
" 'Oaxed is what you've been, sir, and no
mistake ; but does that pour comfort into a pa-
rent's wounded bo-som, or restore a daughter's
feelin'sr'
After some broad hints from Mr. Sneek, our hero
perceived that a tip would put all right. He gave
it readily. Mr. Sneek pocketed it with equal readi-
ness. Holding the door ajar, he said —
" Which, sir, you've behaved in the matter like
a genelman, and I'm satisfied of your havin' been
victimised. I hope I shall always show my grati-
tude. Shall I shut the door, sir"?"
" If you please."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 109
With an expression of delight upon his features,
the gyp did as he was directed. He was just hum-
ming a favourite air when he was confronted by
his daughter. The hum gave place to a long, low
whistle.
" Halves, father," said Miss Sneek, holding out
her hand, and looking majestically inexorable.
" Halves — what do you mean]"
" I've been a listenin' outside. He's gev you a
sovereign. I know he has, so don't deny it, for it's
no use."
Mr. Sneek vowed and protested all the way
home, but to no purpose. He found himself in the
position of one of Byron's heavy fathers, whose
strong-minded daughter thus addressed him: —
" I knew your nature's firmness.
Know your daughter's too!"
Like that lady, Miss Sneek was not to be put off
with promises — to come due at the end of the
term. All she vouchsafed by way of reply to her
father's eloquent protestations was said in one
word —
" Halves."
1 1 o T/ie Cambridge Freshman; or,
CHAPTER VU.
IN THIS CHAPTER, OUR HERO MAKES THE ACQUAINT-
ANCE OF A DESCENDANT OF THE IRISH KINGS,
WHO SOUNDS THE BUGLE OF WAR IN HIS EARS.
T was not at all likely that a gentleman
who had always inculcated in the mind of
his son and heir the necessity of punc-
tuality and promptitude to success in life, in all its
multifarious walks, would long neglect to reply to
his son's first letter from the University. Guile-
less, but not unambitious, the Reverend Samuel
Golightly, Rector of Oakingham, had, from his
son's earliest years, laid himself out to form his
character upon a model after his own heart. This
model, as we stated in a former chapter, was a
bold admixture of Chesterfield engrafted upon
Bacon ; and although, as a father, it was the Rec-
tor's first wish and darling hope that his son should
become a man of the world, after his own peculiar
ideal conception of that character in its perfection.
Memoirs of Mr. Goligktly, 1 1 1
still, as a parson of the Church of England, ortho-
dox, and brimful of belief in all things of authority,
the Reverend Samuel Golightly proposed, within
his heart of hearts, to add to the compound of cha-
racter above mentioned a third element — namely,
a loyal and pious devotion to Church and Queen.
We have before hinted that Mr. Golightly, senior,
entertained in his full mind, now more pregnant
than ever with great thoughts, the notion that his
son and heir would become early in life a distin-
guished man, and that some of the superfluous
eclat arising from his doings in the great world of
men might happily be reflected upon his father.
We claim for this notion, on behalf of the genial
Kector of Oakingham-cum-Pokeington, no extra-
ordinary measure of originality. Many fathers
have entertained similar opinions of the genius of
their respective progeny, both male and female:
opinions which have in various instances met with
a greater or less degree of realization, according to
the circumstances of their peculiar cases ; for, as I
have often heard the Kector observe, and notably
on occasions when after dinner he tells the tale of
his having been attacked by the favourite bull of
the tenant who farms his glebe land, "Man," he is
in the habit of saying, " is, after all, but the crea-
ture of circumstances. I might not have been
112 The Cambridge Freshmmi; or,
alive now to tell you the story had it not been for
Presence of Mind and a green gingham umbrella,
which I commonly carry when walking in the fields
in bad weather. By the bye, gingham is a fabric
which every day is less used among us." For such
— if, in this hypercritical age, I may be permitted
to make use of an ugly word — is the universality
of my friend's mind, that it is no unusual thing for
him to drop from metaphysical speculation or po-
lemical discussion to the common objects of every-
day life ; exempli gratid, as in the present instance
from Presence of Mind to gingham gowns : as he
himself observes on such occasions, "One thing very
often suggests another." And this many-sidedness
— so to speak — of the Hector's mind the better fits
him for his duties in the high calling of a country
parson ; for though in the pulpit he treats often of
a Sunday of those holy mysteries of our faith which,
to his judgment, the most require exposition and
explanation at his hands, yet on the other days of
the week he is never unwilling or unready to enter
into the most minute details of domestic economy
which are necessary to the welfare of his flock.
Nevertheless, both in the pulpit and at the cottage
door, the Rector ever speaks with the conscious
authority of the Church, but with all the kindliness
of the truest of friends ; and, not to speak too dis-
■Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 113
respectfully, his portliness of figure and almost
episcopal bearing greatly enhance his qualification
for performing the former of these functions to ad-
miration. The sentiments he utters to this day
among his parishioners, when they consult him
upon their worldly aff"airs, are, as nearly as may be,
the same as those with which he enlightened them
when first he was inducted into the living of Oak-
ingham, upon the nomination of that honoured
gentleman and soldier, his father. And in the
Church his sermons are year after year identically
the same ; for, by an ingenious device of overturn-
ing an old oak cabinet with silver inlaid rims, which
is an heirloom in the family, and is believed to be
made of the very Oak which providentially lent its
friendly shelter to King Charles, and is turned to
this reverent use partly on that account, the Eector
contrives to begin on the first Sunday in January of
every year with the sermon he preached on the first
Sunday of the year preceding it. And so he goes
through his stock of sermons seriatim and in their
proper order, only writing a new discourse and sub-
stituting it for one of his old ones on such occasions
as he touches upon politics in the pulpit, which are
very rare. These sermons, together with three he
has preached before the honourable the Judges of
Assize at the county town, when his brother, the
I
114 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Squire, was High Sheriff of the county, he intends
some day to publish under the title of " Sermons
for Special Occasions," by the Reverend Samuel
Golightly, M.A., Rector of the parish of Oaking-
ham and rural dean. All these sermons are very
sound in their theology, and safe guides against
heterodoxy, heresy, and all schism. It has often
been remarked that the best sermons preached in
the parish are the Sunday afternoon discourses of
Mr. Morgan ; and the Rector is very ready to give
honour where honour is due, and feels no jealousy
whatever at his curate's successes.
We have been gossiping sadly in entering upon
these family details ; but our excuse is that the
Golightlys are a family in which the son so com-
monly takes after the parent, that, in affording this
information concerning some traits of the father's
character, we are really helping our readers to ap-
preciate the peculiarities of the son's, the after-
wards-to-become-famous hero of this history. AVe
have said that Mr. Golightly, senior, hoped to have
some little share of his son's honours reflected upon
himself. The question which arose was one which,
at first sight, does not appear to be very easy of
solution — how was the Rector to connect himself
with his son 1 How was the world to know, un-
less duly advertised of the fact, that the Samuel
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 115
Adolphus Golightly, of the University, the Bar, and
the Senate, was the son of the Rector of Oaking-
ham? After some days had been devoted to the
study of this problem, the reverend gentleman was
struck with the happy notion of applying to his
copy of Lord Chesterfield's writings for assistance
out of his difficulty. He had hardly done more
than warmed his feet at his study fire, and read a
few favourite passages, when he felt himself the
subject of a thrill that vibrated from his toes to his
spectacles. Here was the very idea. It had come,
like the inspirations of all true genius, unexpectedly
and in a moment. In this way it crossed the Hec-
tor's mind —
" Why not ' Letters from the Rector of Oaking-
ham-cum-Pokeington to his Son at the University'?
Why not? Why, of course. I wonder it never
struck me before."
Mr. Golightly rose, divested himself of the loose
coat he wore in the study, put on his black swallow-
tail, and went down to the drawing-room without
more ado, and there intimated his intention to his
family, though only in a sort of mysterious whisper
— for the idea was as yet very new, and hardly
matured in his mind.
" I hope you will not overwork yourself, Samuel,
my dear," said his wife; "that is all. I am afraid,
I 2
1 1 6 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
if you are so very active in the parish affairs and
with Sunday duty too, it is almost too much. I am
sure, I wish you had not left off hunting ; and I
have often said so."
" But, my dear, I weigh nearly sixteen stone, I'm
sure."
" But look at Squire Potterton — he weighs nearly
twenty, I know."
" I am not Squire Potterton, my dear," said the
Rector, quietly. j
" I hope, if ever they are printed, it will not be
at your own expense, brother," said Miss Dorothea,
who was a very careful spinster in all money mat-
ters. " Think of that gentleman you once had
here as locum teneus, when you were away. Poor
man, he was always talking of the expense he had
been put to over a volume of sermons ; and at last
he had to give them all away, except the boxful
he kept for himself."
" Time will show," said the Rector. There was
a triumphant twinkle in his bright eye as he went
upstairs again to his study.
This little domestic incident had occurred some
months before our hero quitted the bosom of his
family to be received in that of Alma Mater. He
was spending a week at the Hall with his uncles
and cousins at the time The distance between
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 1 1 7
the Hall and the Rectory was not great enough to
alloAv his father to begin then. Accordingly, the
first of this remarkable series of letters — which was
begun with the intention of connecting the hidden
talent of the parent with the reputation of the son
— was deferred until the time of which we now
write. In the hands of our professional story-tell-
ers, long letters at frequent intervals between the
heroines and their confidantes are often the most
boring parts of stupid books ; therefore, I shall at
once set the not unreasonable apprehensions of my
readers at rest on this score : the Rector's letters
do not appear set out at length as an ingredient
portion of this history. But of these famous pro-
ductions we only have occasion to give one or two,
which may well serve as a sample of the rest: for,
as my friend the Rector says sometimes — and not-
ably of one family in the parish, in which all the
children are much alike in feature and character,
having indeed what in that part of the country
are called Apple Dumpling faces — ''Ah uno disce
omnes;" making use of his Latin, in which he has
the repute of being a proficient, in such cases as he
finds the vulgar tongue insufficient to express all
the meaning he desires to convey. The noble
Stanhope began to write his letters to Stanhope,
junior, when that envoy-extraordinary in embryo
ii8 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
was in nankeen breeches and a blue coat with gilt
buttons, at the early age of five. The Rector of
Oakingham felt that, as a system of educational
philosophy, his letters would suffer from his first
beginning to write them when his son had so
nearly arrived at man's estate; but as they had
never been separated from each other for more
than a few days at a time, and often on such occa-
sions only an adjoining parish divided them, Mr.
Golightly the elder held that, up to the period of
his son's leaving home, the labour of epistolary
correspondence would have been in some degree
supererogatory.
The first of these letters is given to the reader
just as it reached Mr. Golightly, junior, at St.
Mary's, word for word, and without alteration or
addition of any sort. " My dear Son," it began —
the Rector decided upon this form of commencing
his letter after much debating in his own mind, for
he was well aware that his illustrious prototype
always began his epistles with "My dear Friend;"
but the Rector felt that the custom of this age
would hold the latter style cold — therefore his
decision.
" My dea r Son — In these parts, removed alike
from the bustle of commercial Marts, the ceaseless
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 1 1 9
intrigues of Courts, and the elevated disputations
of those ancient seats of learning and seminaries of
sound knowledge and religious education, in one,
and not the less distinguished, of which — for their
merits are equal — you are now happily located, we
are still engaged in the same dull round of ephe-
meral and hebdomadary duties and pursuits in
which you left us. But you, my dear boy, move
in a more extended and spacious sphere ; therefore,
I beg of you, lose no opportunity of making your-
self intimately acquainted with the manifold pas-
sions, peculiarities, and desires of Man the micro-
cosm — "
"The phraseology is almost Johnsonian," Mr.
Morgan said, knowing that when the Rector, who
was reading the letter to him, came to a pause, he
expected a compliment.
Mr. Golightly smiled, bowed, and went on —
" I/Ose, then, no opportunity of mixing with men
of all sorts and conditions ; for I especially desire
you to possess les manieres d'un honnete homme, et
le ton de la jparfaitement bonne compagnie — and this
is the surest way to acquire them. I have no
doubt the heat of the candles affected you in the
college chapel. I have often noticed a change
1 20 The Cambridge Fres/unan; or,
myself when, on a Sunday afternoon in winter,
Bumpy — as you always called the beadle when
you were a child — lighted the four candles to
warm the air a little above the pulpit, and to en-
able me to see my book. But in the matter of
drinking wine, be cautious ; leave port to us old
fellows, and adhere strictly to the lighter beve-
rages of France and the Rhine. Vinum Mosella-
num est omni tempore sanum. Vimun Rhenanum
is probably the same, and sana mens in sano cor-
pore the result of drinking sound and light wines.
Lastly, remember my advice, and try to be at all
times cool, calm, and collected, and to rise equal
to any occasion. Timorous minds are much more
inclined to deliberate than to resolve. Let not
little things disturb your equanimity, ^quam
memento rebus in arduis servare mentem: be neither
transported nor depressed by the incidents of life.
" P.S. — All desire their kindest regards. Have
you called yet on Mr. Smith?"
This letter — in the matter of quotation, at all
events — was not a bad imitation of the style of the
distinguished man whose Letters have handed his
fame down to the memory of posterity.
Our hero had just finished the first perusal of
this powerful letter, and was somewhat astonished
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 121
at the way in which his Fa could "come out" upon
occasion ; further, he was just going to reach down
his dictionary, for the purpose of aiding him in
making a rough translation of the several classical
quotations — for the predisposition of our hero's
mind being rather mathematical than classical, he
was not a " dab " at translation at first sisrht —
when there was a very loud knock at his door, and
* — without waiting for any " Come in," or other
form of polite invitation to enter — in walked Mr.
Pokyr and Mr. Blaydes.
" I think, if I were you, I would advertise for
them," said Mr. Pokyr, in a confidential way.
"Advertise for what]" asked Mr. Golightly, in-
nocently.
"Why, for your hat and your umbrella, of
course," replied his friend, with decision. "You
haven't found them'?"
" N-no — I have not — that is, yet," said our hero,
at first despondingly, and then more hopefully of
the recovery of his chattels.
"The question I ask is, where are they"?" said
Mr. Pokyr.
"Precisely what I say — where can they have
got tol" continued Mr. Blaydes, in his turn.
" Gentlemen," said Mr. Golightly, with the pre-
occupied air of one who had exhausted all specula-
122 Ths Cambi'-idf^e Fresluiian; or.
tion on the painful subject — " Gentlemen, I have
asked myself that question/'
"And echo answered 'WhereT I suppose," said
Mr. Pokyr. "Golightly, my dear boy, you must
advertise for them. It is the usual thing, is it not,
Blaydes?"
Mr. Golightly understood Mr. Blaydes to cor-
roborate the statement of their common friend.
"Cambridge is a queer place. You must try to
conform to ye manners and ye customs of ye place
and period, or you will be thought singular," said
Mr. Pokyr.
" I wish to do so — in all things, I'm sure," re-
sponded Mr. Golightly — who, so far in his under-
graduate career, had found many things new to
him. " My Fa — that is, my father — often said to
me, 'Do not be a round man in an angular hole'" —
his friends laughed — " or stay, I would not be quite
sure," our hero proceeded ; " perhaps it was ' an
angular man in a round hole.' It was one of these
two, I'm sure. Yes, it was. My Fa used to say,
too, 'iit Rome do as Rome does.' He once visited
Rome in the Spring, Pokyr. He means, of
course — "
" My dear boy, of course we know what your
dear Fa means. Don't explain."
"But to come to business," said Mr. Blaydes,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 123
joining Pokyr in interrupting our hero's anecdote
of the Rector.
" Ah ! business," said the latter.
"Advertisements, you know," said Mr. Blaydes.
" Yes — in what paper"?"
" On small handbills, I advise," said Mr.
Pokyr.
"I don't know what is customary; in fact, I
am not ashamed to confess that I never wrote an
advertisement for lost property in my life."
" Perhaps you never lost anything before."
" Oh, yes ! — very often — I often forget things —
my purse, you recollect, the day I came."
"I recollect — I recollect," said Mr. Pokyr,
hastily. " But there is no time to be lost : the
bill ought to be printed to-night. I'll get it
done for you. Now, let us have pens, ink, and
paper."
Our hero produced his desk.
" You dictate — I will write. Fancy you are
Napoleon the Great, and I am one of your sixteen
secretaries, all writino: at once, and dash it off like
a man."
"No — you flatter me, Pokyr. I'm not like Na-
poleon the Great. You don't think so."
" What shall I write % " asked his friend.
" I-I leave it all to you."
124 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Without any trouble or apparent mental effort,
Mr. Pokyr composed the following handbill : —
LOST,
. BY A GENTLEMAN OF ST. MARY'S COLLEGE,
A HAT and an UMBRELLA.
1^" THE FINDER WILL BE LIBERALLY REWARDED BY THE OWNER.
APPLY TO THE PORTER AT THE GATE.
" Bravo/' said Jamaica Blaydes.
" That seems capital, I think," said the gentle-
man most intimately concerned. " Sh-shall I get
them back, do you think \ "
" Sure to do it, my dear boy," exclaimed his
friend Pokyr. "A bill like that must be seen.
Well print fifty of them."
" Cambridge is a very honest place," observed
Mr. Blaydes. " The only reason that you have not
had them back is, in all probability, because the
finders don't know where to take them."
" In-deed," said Mr. Golightly, opening his
eyes.
" Ya-as," said Mr. Pokyr, rising, and — what I
believe is termed — tipping the wink to Mr. Blaydes.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 125
*' Please to read it again," said Mr. Golightly,
in his usual irresistible way.
" Certainly — with pleasure, I am sure. Charm-
ing little bit of composition, isn't it \ You read it
to the gentleman, Blaydes. I don't like reading
my own things — never did justice to them in my
life."
" Have you written, then, Pokyr ? " asked Mr.
Golightly, in astonishment.
" Every member of the Cutlet Club writes," was
the epigrammatic and only reply of the Honourable
John Pokyr.
This was strictly true — they wrote their names
in the members' book. But I do not think that, if
a duly elected member w^ere unable to do this, he
would on that account be refused admission.
Mr. Blaydes, having cleared his throat, and ad-
justed the collar of his shirt, now read the handbill
as set out above.
" There, that will do," said the clever authci
rising, and shouting across the quad to his servant,
who was just then passing — "Smith."
*' Yes, sir," touching his hat to his master.
That gentleman, who had flung the window
open, dropped the "copy" down to his valet below.
" Tell the fellow to have it done to-night. Print
fifty of the first edition."
126 The Cambridge Fresh7nan; or^
" One moment before he goes," said our hero,
nervously. " What is '■liberally rewarded V"
" Handsomely."
" I mean, how much'?"
" Oh, they'll take anything you like to give
them," said Mr. Pokyr, in his offhand way.
" But I should not like to give very much; and
I should be sorry if they felt disappointed, or that
I had not acted up to my word/' was the scrupulous
rejoinder.
" What's your mushroom worthl"
" My umbrella was given me. A guinea, per-
haps. Yes, I think it would be a guinea at Fud-
dleton, you know."
" Oh, say five and twenty bob, out of respect to
the donor's feelings. And your 'tile"?"
" Ten and sixpence, I think."
*' One fifteen six, then. Well, say you gave
somewhere about double the value — three pounds
never mind the ' tizzy ' — that vs^ould be liberally
rewarding the finder."
" It would indeed," sighed our hero, apprehen-
sively. " Stay, I would rather not have the bills
printed, I think."
" Don't name it; take you a week to write them,
if you had Sneek and Cribb to help. They can go
down to my tick."
]\Iemoirs of Mr. Golightly. 127
" I don't mean that, exactly. It's the reward.
Pray stop your man!"
" He's gone — there by this time. Now wVU
help you to drink a glass of your father's capital
Madeira/'
After dinner that evening, Messieurs Pokyr and
Blaydes, accompanied by De Bootz, Browne, and
Calipee, strolled into Green's to pass a social hour
over the board of green cloth at the game of pool,
a diversion at which the players have been likened
to the most rascally of pirates, as all their fun
consists in " taking lives." Here the gentlemen
above named found their friend Fitzfoodel and
others of their own particular set already busily
employed.
" Where is the Captain to-nightl 'Pon my ho-
nour, this is the first time I ever came into this room
when there was a pool on, and he was not in it."
The speaker was Mr. Pokyr; and he had scarcely
uttered his remark when, through the oval pane of
glass in the door — on which was painted in white
letters, " Please wait for the stroke" — a nose was
visible — a very red and pimply nose. It was the
Captain's nose.
" Talk of an angel and — " said Mr. Pokyr, as the
Captain entered the room.
128 The Cambridge FresJwian; or.
The Captain was a gentleman of about forty-
summers. His name was O'Higgins, and he had
more than once told most of the people he knew
that his family estates were to be found spread-
ing their broad acres over a large part of the
West of Ireland. Why he was called the Cap-
tain it is difficult to determine, as he had never
been in any army. Possibly it had been origin-
ally conferred upon him for the reason that the
descendant of the ancient Irish kings should have,
even in the land of the domineering Saxon, some
courtesy title to distinguish him from other men.
How it was he came to settle in Cambridge was
another inexplicable mystery. Nobody could ac-
count for his preference for the flat scenery of
the Fen districts over the wild and magnificent
landscapes, the castles, mountains, forests, trout
streams, and deer parks of his ancestral domain.
Another feature in his character was, that he
either employed a most negligent person to collect
his princely revenues, or his tenants lived rent
free; for it is certain that no portion of his ex-
tensive rent-roll ever found its way into the pockets
of the royally descended owner, the contents of
whose capacious pockets generally consisted of
pieces of silver known in the profession as billiard
sixpences — these being coins that were sixpences
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 129
once, but, having seen many years of active service,
had arrived at an intrinsic value of about three-
pence each, and passed current at their nominal
worth only as "lives" at pool. Pokyr called them
the last of the silver plate of the O'Higgins fa-
mily; and it was not strange that the silver pos-
sessed by the representative of that ancient race
should show signs of wear and tear. It is a fact,
nevertheless, that how often soever the Captain
disposed of them, they always, sooner or later,
found their way back to him, as they were ho-
noured nowhere else. For the rest, he was a very
tall man and a very stout man, and wore a velve-
teen coat, and a huge watch chain credulous Fresh-
men looked upon as gold. Pokyr said the Cap-
tain's nose had cost more to colour than all his
own meerschaums put together, and that was say-
ing a great deal.
Something of the general character of Timothy
Fitzgerald O'Higgins, Esq., of Mount O'Higgins,
in the county of Galway, may be learned from
another remark of Mr, Pokyr's — namely, that the
Captain was " a fellow who smokes his cigars very
low; and they have all been given him into the
bargain, you know." For this observant young
gentleman had often seen the Captain sucking his
Havannahs down to the last quarter of an inch,
K
130 The Cambi'idge Freshman; or,
and then reluctantly parting with even such small
stumps. From this it will readily be inferred
that the Captain had not enjoyed as many of
Fortune's smiles as a royal personage ought to
receive.
" Late to-night, Captain," said Mr. De Bootz,
as the scion of royalty removed his brown vel-
veteen coat, and hung it carefully on its accus-
tomed peg.
" It's late I am," replied Mr. O'Higgins, finding
the key of his case, and extracting thence his own
private cue.
" Where have you been. Captain, if it's a fair
question'?" continued his friend, De Bootz.
"I've been to the Union. Chutney took me
to hear him speak."
" What was the row?" asked Pokyr.
" Sir, the subject of debate was, ' That the abo-
lition of the practice of Jewelling' (duelling) 'was
creditable to English Societee.' Affirmative, Mr.
Grenville, of Caius; negative, Mr. Chutney, of
St. Mary's; and now," said the Captain, "you
know as much as I do myself about it. I won't
be the one to catch myself there again in a
hurree."
" Why, Captain?"
" Sir, there's a draught in that Strangers' Gal
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 131
leree enough to take a man's head off. And I
wanted to join you; for, on me honour as a gen-
tleman, I lost money here last night."
" Oh!" from several players.
" The last ball is yours, sir," said the marker.
" Would Chutney show fighf?" asked Pokyr,
suddenly, after the Captain had made his first
stroke.
" Well, I don't know; but if tark goes for any-
thing in tMs countree, he's the very brath of a boy,
and no mistake at arl about it."
After their play was over, Mr. Timothy O'Hig-
gins went, in the company of Mr. Pokyr, to pay a
visit to Chutney's rooms.
The result of the interview was that, in the
morning, just as our hero was contemplating
the nicely browned mutton chop which had been
placed upon his breakfast table, he was startled
by a most martially executed rat-tat-tat-tat at his
door.
" Come in," he cried.
And in walked the Captain.
With his usual politeness, though considerably
astonished, our hero rose to inquire the purport of
this unexpected visit. Before, however, he could
ask any question, the stranger began the conver-
sation.
K 2
132 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
"Mr. Golightly, I believer'
That gentleman bowed in acknowledgment of
his patronymic.
" Allow me, sir, to interojuice meself — me name
is O'Higgins."
" Mr. 0-0'IIiggins'?" said our hero, rather ner-
vously and very inquiringly.
" The O'Higgins, sir, is me prawper title; for me
fawthers bore it bee-fore me," said the stranger, in
an unpleasantly martial way.
" Indeed, sir," said Mr. Golightly to The O'Hig-
gins.
" To be brief, sir, I am the bearer of a message
from me friend, Mr. Chutney, which you'll do
well to attend to at once, for it won't keep at
arl!"
" S-S-Sir!" exclaimed our hero, " I haven't the
pleasure of knowing Mr. Chutney, though I have
heard my cousin and — and others mention his
name."
" Indeed, sir — then ye soon will have," said The
O'Higgins, waving his hand ct la militaire; " for I
may tell you, me friend Chutney is not the man to
be throifled with; and, as he has favoured ye with
his address at the head of this" — here he handed a
letter to our greatly astonished hero — " 111 just
lave ye to answer it as soon as ye conveniently
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 133
can. Mr. Chutney will be found at home all the
marmng."
And with this remark, and a military salute,
Mr. Timothy Fitzgerald O'Higgins took his de-
parture.
•^a^
134 The Cambridge Freshnan ; oj%
CHAPTER VIII.
AN INTERMEDIATE CHAPTER BETWEEN THE ONE
BEFORE IT AND THE ONE BEHIND IT.
[HE society which constitutes the little world
within the walls of a college is marked by
divisions into large parties and small par-
ties, pretty much after the same fashion as the
society in the great world outside. These parties,
again, admit of minute subdivisions into cliques or
sects, consisting of a more or less limited number
of gentlemen whose tastes, habits, and pursuits
may be said to be sufficiently alike to give them
objects of interest in common. There are political
parties, who tight great battles, with much elo-
quence, in the college debating society — where a
promising spirit of rancour is fostered between the
sons of Tory fathers and the sons of Whig fathers,
tending to maintain the integrity of the line which
divides those great sections of the nation, on the
existence of which, as we all know, the stability.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 135
prosperity, and happiness of these realms so largely
depend. There are likewise parties in boating
affairs, in cricketing, and athletics ; and tremen-
dous contests take place, once a term or so, when
one party proposes that Mr. A, should be first cap-
tain of the boats or president of the athletic club,
while the other promotes the candidature of Mr. B.,
and a battle royal ensues between the supporters of
these gentlemen. There are parties, too, in matters
of more serious concern than those above mentioned
— religious factions, that come out in all their might
and glory at the end of term, when the election to the
offices of precentor and committee-men of the choral
society takes place. Then there are the enthusi-
astic gentlemen who fit up their gyp-rooms in the
loveliest way conceivable, as little oratories, with
real kneeling-desks in carved oak, and imitation of
stained windows, with shaven-crowned saints, and
brazen candlesticks with charming wax candles in
them, and brazen vases for flowers, and censers for
burning frankincense and myrrh, and incensing the
rosy-cheeked little choir boys, in their short w^hite
surplices, edged with Nottingham lace, and their
purple cassocks made on the most approved pat-
tern. True, this use of their gyp-rooms may make
it a matter of necessity that their cups and saucers
and commons should be kept in what was con-
1 36 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
structed for a coal-box, and their coals in a box
ottoman in their bed-rooms ; but of what account
are the vanities of this world ?
Arrayed in opposition to them, we find a party
of gentlemen who regard all musical services with
absolute horror, and in whose eyes any ecclesi-
astical habiliment more prononce than a Geneva
gown is an abomination, and a potent source of
mental and moral disquietude. And of all the
battles fought to advance party interests, the hot-
test and liveliest ones are the contests between
these extreme divisions, who are in the daily habit
of saying very unpleasant and uncomplimentary
things the one of the other. Happily, at these
choral, but anything but harmonious meetings,
there is always present a third party, holding in
its hands the balance of power ; looking mode-
rately at all things, and at all men in a spirit of
charitable consideration.
Again, outside the walls of particular colleges,
and drawing their numbers from the whole body of
undergraduates, are other clubs and societies, in
which the battles of the parties are fought with
more or less energy, according to circumstances.
The Lyceum, the Cutlet, the Drag have their
members, who form themselves into special sets
upon some unascertained but surely operating prin-
Alemoirs of Mr. Golightly. 137
ciple, like Darwin's theory of natural selection. It
was to what was known as the "tea drinkin"-"
party of the Cutlet Club that Horatio Clive Chut-
ney — more familiarly termed Tommy Chutney —
belonged, whose communication, conveyed by the
trusty hand of The O'Higgins, had thrown our
hero into such a state of nervous and apprehensive
expectation in our last chapter. The epithet " tea
drinking " may be thought to carry with it its own
explanation. Briefly, it arose from the practice or
custom of certain refined and rather young lady-
like members of the club drinking tea at half-past
four o'clock, successively, in each other's rooms ;
and, in fine weather, airing themselves afterwards
on the King's Parade, with flowers in their coats.
Mr. Chutney, though a native of India, was
looked upon as a true Briton — for he was of Eng-
lish extraction, though very dark in colour ; and it
was he who, with something of implied contempt
for the darker side of human nature, bestowed
the sobriquet of " Nigger " upon our friend, Mr.
Calipee.
Chutney had acquired considerable notoriety in
the Cutlet Club by the peculiarly happy knack he
had of bestowing nicknames upon the honourable
members of that society, which stuck to them in
spite of their efforts to sink them in oblivion. On
138 Tlie Cambridge Freshmaji; or^
this account, Mr. Chutney was looked up to with
considerable fear and respect by all those lucky
individuals upon whom he had not as yet tried his
powers ; while, on the other hand, those gentlemen
for whom he had acted the part of a second sponsor,
as a matter of course, rarely let an opportunity pass
of recording the opinion that they "didn't see much
in Chutney." Mr. Fitzfoodel, a great rider, he
at once dubbed " Jockey ; " Mr. Calipee, as before
mentioned, carried about everywhere the addition
of " Nigger" — like Sneek's traditional suit of black,
it fitted to a T, Upon a mighty athlete, whose
name was Johnstone, Mr. Chutney conferred the
sobriquet of "Jumper," and Jumper Johnstone he
is known as to this day. A Quixotic gentleman,
of ancient lineage, in whose high-bridged and de-
fiant nose the Indian saw a resemblance to an
eagle's beak, he christened " the Bird ; " and be-
hold, " Call upon the Bird for a song " was a com-
mon demand at the meetings of the club, for the
youthful Quixote had a tenor voice. More un-
pleasant to bear up against were such nicknames
as " the Cow," bestowed by this Adam of the Cutlet
Club upon a youth who had very large black eyes,
a vacant stare, and a most unchristian gait. The
vasty deep was laid under contribution by the
mother-wit of this bestower of epithets to furnish
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 139
one appropriate to a South country gentleman who
had a Somersetshire accent, and one day, after a
ckib dinner, told the same anecdote about a big
*' vish " many more times than sobriety would have
dictated; so he was called, after his story, the "Big
Vish," or " Vish," ever afterwards — though the
point of the tale has not yet been caught. The
" Female Monkey," too, was answered to and po-
litely acknowledged by another Mutton Cutlet — -
why, Chutney only knows. And little did poor
Mr. Samuel think, when his cousin, Mr. George,
took him, on that ill-fated Thursday night, to pay
his first visit to the Union, and hear Mr. Chutney
speak, that the debate to which he had listened
with so much interest was so soon to take such a
seriously practical turn. Introduced by his cousin,
he paid his fees, and inscribed the honoured name
of Goliglitly — preceded by Samuel Adolphus, and
followed by St. Mary's Coll. — in the books of the
Cambridge Union Society; and speedily found him-
self one of a crowd of vounji men in the large and
lofty room in which the debate on the practice of
duelling was proceeding, with unflagging vigour,
among both " pros " and " cons."
Mr. Samuel Gohghtly's inteUigent and expres-
sive features sparkled with more than usual anima-
tion as he cheered the gentlemen who opposed the
140 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
practice as " unworthy of a great, a progressive,
and a civilized nation." While following the lead
of others, he used his lungs with melodious effect
in shouting "No! no!" and ''Question," when the
opponents of the motion affirmed, with vehement
eloquence, that the " abolition of this practice in
England had left us without that means of satisfac-
tion in the last resort which one gentleman had
had a right, from time immemorial, of demanding
from another. Mr. President — in refuting the
wholly untenable arguments of the supporters of
this motion, we point defiantly and triumphantly
to the example of France; and will honourable
gentlemen affirm that France is not a civilized
countryV
" Yes," cried ouv hero, boldly. Joining his own
with other manly voices; for, through the mazes of
the logic and rhetoric pressed into their service by
the Opposition, let it be recorded that Mr. Samuel
distinctly saw the light of day. He little thought
how soon he would be called upon to sacrifice his
own convictions to other people's notions of ho-
nour! All debates come to an end in time; and
this one, after raging hotly for above an hour
and three-quarters, terminated in a division ; the
result of which, when announced to the House by
the President, appeared to be — for the motion,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 141
seventy-two ; against it, seventy-one. The result
was received with deafening cheers, in which the
voice of Mr. Samuel might have been plainly heard
by those near him. Mr. Chutney and his party
left the House, defeated but not disgraced. They
had lost their cause by a very small majority. The
victors laughed, of course — "let him laugh who
wins " — and the losers consoled themselves with
the recollection, pleasant in their memories, of
the good fight they had made ; while the moderate
thinkers were quite content, calling to mind that
line —
" Which country members always cheer at,
' Palmam qui meruit ferat!'"
And so the honourable members — both debaters
and non-debaters — wended their way, upon their
several businesses intent : some to " sap " at Sopho-
cles or Tacitus, some to "grind" Optics or the
Calculus for the triposes ; more humble men —
owning to the possession of that honest thing, the
" Poll mind " — to work religiously at those horrible
first six books of the immortal Euclid, though
hardly from pure inclination —
*' Renouncing every pleasing page
From authors of historic use;
Preferring to the letter'd sage
The square of the hypothenuse."
142 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Others, again — and among them our friends Cali-
pee, Pokyr, and the members of the Cutlet Club
generally — not being of the kind the poet de-
scribes when he has in his eye the man —
** Who sacrifices hours of rest
To scan precisely metres Attic;
Or agitates his anxious breast
In solving problems mathematic " —
devoted their energies of an evening to the plea-
sures of pool, the wild excitements of unlimited
loo, brag, bezique, or blind hookey ; thinking that
reading at night was a bad thing for their consti-
tutions. Others, again, moved off to spend social
evenings in their own rooms, in the milder dissi-
pation of tea and talk — little coteries gathering
themselves together to discuss the next great party
cowp, and plan the destruction of their opponents'
schemes. And, after all, it is a happy thing that
the academical year is divided into three terms,
with good long slices of vacation intervening — for
in the recess party animosities are forgotten, and
men meet again friends at the beginning of every
fresh term — or college society might not be the
pleasant thing it is.
It has been said of a great living statesman and
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 143
orator, that he is in the habit of calming his mind,
after an exciting debate in the House of Commons,
by reading for two hours from the English poets
before retiring to his virtuous repose — an innocent
and commendable practice. Young Chutney, whose
mind was excited by his rhetorical efforts, and by
the result of the division on the motion he had
that night opposed at the Union, was engaged in
the operation of calming himself down again to
his normal pressure. But he adopted a different
method from that mentioned above. He retired to
his room; and was sucking vigorously at a very
large pipe, and taking sherry cobbler with it, when
The O'Higgins and Mr. Pokyr, accompanied by
Mr. Calipee, called upon him.
"I congratulate you, me friend, on your illo-
quence, your logic, and your facts," said the first
of -these gentlemen, when they entered. " It re-
minds me strongly of what I have heard before, in
another place," continued Mr. O'Higgins, waving
his hand grandly. He did not specify the locality ;
but may be supposed to have referred either to the
Rotunda or his own ancestral halls, at some grand
gathering of the Chiefs. "I was compelled to
lave your handsome edifice as soon as ye had done
speaking yourself, for I — "
*' Had other fish to fry. Eh, captain V' said Pokyr.
144 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
"Me boy, you've hit the mark," replied The
O'Higgins, with all the happy candour of his
nation ; " for, on me word as a gentleman, I lost
money in that room last night."
"You've got your losses back, with interest."
"Ah, you're after joking me, Pokyr, you are,"
said the Captain. "No, I like a man that can
tark loike me friend ; and bedad, act up to arl he
says, on occasion, bedad. And where's the man
who'll say that Chutney is not a man of his word"?"
And Mr. Timothy O'Higgins looked round him
with an air which plainly said, " I should like to
see him."
" Awfully sorry I missed the treat, by Jove,"
said Mr. Pokyr.
"Just like my luck — forgot all about it," ob-
served the fat Calipee.
" Sit down, and have some liquor of some sort,"
said their host, rising. " I don't think I did badly
— in fact, everybody says I did very well."
" And ye mane every word ye said, and there's
a clean breast of the matter," volunteered The
O'Higgins.
" Of course I do," said poor little Tommy, un-
suspectingly falling into the trap that his friends
had laid for him.
" And ye'd foight. I knew you would. I said
Me7noirs of Mr. Golightly. 145
to me friend Pokyr — let Calipee correct me if I'm
wrong, and every word is not the truth — I said, in
the billiard room, before them all, ' Me friend
Chutney is the man to protect his own honour, and
wants nobody's help in the matter — that is, if tark
goes for anything in this countree.' Didn't I"?"
"And what did we say 1" asked Messrs. Pokyr
and Calipee, in their turn.
" 'Deed then, and you said the same as meself,"
replied The O'Higgins.
Whereupon the three gentlemen seated them-
selves, and made themselves comfortable at once.
" Let me offer you a cigar," said Chutney.
" Thank you, I prefer a pipe just now," replied
Mr. Pokyr.
"No — not that one," he added, as Chutney
handed him a mammoth meerschaum.
" Oh!" replied Chutney, "it's the jolliest pipe—"
"Yes," said Pokyr; "but, as I look upon all
pipes, more or less, as levers for loosening teeth, I
should prefer something smaller."
Chutney 's stock of pipes was large. A chibouk
was found to suit Mr. Calipee, a meerschaum for
Mr. Pokyr; while The O'Higgins was accommo-
dated with a prime Partaga, which he liked so
very much that he was without much trouble pre-
vailed upon to put three or four more in his case.
L
146 The Ca77ibridge Freshma7i; or,
The business of their visit then became apparent.
Nothing was clearer than the fact that Mr. Samuel
Adolphus Golightly had presumed to fall in love
with a lady for whom Mr. Chutney had often
avowed the greatest regard. This was at once
voted insufferably presumptuous in a Freshman,
The same Freshman had likewise made the lady
ridiculous by his attentions ; and a great deal more
to the like effect.
At last, The O'Higgins put the question of a
duel to Chutney point blank.
" Now, me dear boy, tell me, are ye the man I
thought you were \ " said he. " He's hardly worth
powder and shot, bedad; but honour, Mr. Chut-
ney, is honour — at least, it was when I used to sit
down to me dinner every day in Kildare-street, ex-
cept when I was dining at the Viceragal Lawdge,
which was often enough, bedad. Teach him a
lesson. Don't kill him, you know; but just wing
him. Bedad, it's manny a man I've winged me-
self!" said the Captain, "to say niver a word of <
thim I've left dead on the field by dozens at a
toime."
Here the Captain took a pull at his brandy and
water.
Both Mr. Pokyr and Mr. Calipee felt it a duty
to take all he said on this subject seriously.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 147
" I would not give a halfpenny for a fellow that
preaches what he does not practise — by Jove, I
wouldn't," said Mr. Pokyr.
And the result of the visit was, that the three
guests persuaded their host — who was an excitable
and easily managed youth — to send that note to
our hero of which Mr. Timothy Fitzgerald O'Hig-
gins was the bearer.
I> 2
148 The Cambridge Freshman ; or.
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH SOME SCENES FROM "THE RIVALS" ARE
ENACTED OFF THE STAGE.
'LL just lave ye to answer it as soon as
ye conveniently can," and an intimation
that Mr. Chutney would be at home all
the morning, were, as our readers will recollect,
the words of adieu with which The O'Higgins
parted from Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly on
the eventful morning when he placed the "mes-
sage" of his injured friend in. our hero's astonished
hand.
Mr. Samuel's amazement at first, when the blus-
tering descendant of the Kings of Erin's, green
isle burst in upoii him and his mutton chop, had
been very great. It became still greater when
The O'Higgins announced his style and title, and
placed the note of a gentleman to whom he was
a stranger in his hand. It culminated with The
O'H.'s abrupt and most unexpected departure.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 149
" Good gr-r-acious ! what can all this be about?"
exclaimed our hero, as he rushed to his window,
and watched the retreating figure of Mr. O'Hig-
gins pacing, with martial stride, across the quad.
" Wh-wh-what does it all mean, I wonder] "
But he did not long give himself up to ignorant
wondering.
It has been said, by many wise and observing
writers, that if a man receives a letter, among a
number of letters, which he well knows to be an
unpleasant letter, he opens all his other packets
first, and makes himself master of their contents.
Then he chips his q,^^^, and swallows a mouthful of
toast or of tea, eyeing all the while the unpleasant
epistle, and at last reluctantly opens that also.
We claim for our hero the merit of a diff'erent
course of conduct ; at all events, in the present in-
stance, he neglected the chop now cooling in its
own fat on his plate — he did not even stop to sip
his tea ; but the bearer of the missive was no sooner
out of sight than he broke the seal, and satisfied
himself as to the nature of its contents. He read,
with rapidly varying expressions of feature, thus: —
"10 1, King's Parade, Friday.
" Sir — As you have been pleased to make both
yourself — which is of the slightest possible conse-
150 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
• — —
quence — and Miss Bellair — which is of importance
— ridiculous, by presuming to think yourself a pre-
tender to her good opinion, and as I am further ad-
vised you have made certain remarks concerning me
of a disparaging character, though you are a Fresh-
man, I suppose you know well enough the satisfac-
tion one gentleman demands of another under such
circumstances as those above stated. Any gentle-
man you may appoint to arrange preliminaries will
find me, and the friend who carries this message, in
readiness to receive him at any time that is con-
venient to you. — Yours indignantly,
" Horatio Clive Chutney.
" To S. A. Golightly, Esq."
It instantly struck Mr. Golightly, with very un-
pleasant force, that the " satisfaction one gentle-
man demands of another " meant fighting, either
with swords, pistols, or larger weapons, as might
be agreed upon ; and that the " preliminaries "
mentioned by Mr. Chutney were the prepara-
tions necessary for the hostile meeting. If these
were among the manners and customs of a
University, Mr. Golightly, who was pre-eminently
a man of peace — for though his grandfather had
borne arms, it was only in the militia — began to
wish he had never come there. He recollected, on
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 151
the spur of the moment, that he had never drawn
a sword from its sheath, or snapped a pistol in his
life ; for his late grandfather's weapons were kept
hanging up at the Hall, where they were looked
up to with dne veneration and respect. Here was
a pretty predicament to be placed in ! And what
aggravated the matter, our hero not unnaturally felt
that he was not in the least at fault, being the
most amiable of mortals, and ready, aye ready, at
the call of duty, to resign all claim to the hand of
Miss Bellair, or any other young lady to whom
any other gentleman reasonably considered that
he had a prior right. Glancing again at Mr.
Chutney's letter, he noticed the day of the week
at its head. "Friday" stared him ominously in
the face.
" Y-yesterday was Thursday, and — and it— it is
Friday," he said to himself; and his family pre-
possession against that ill-fated day recurred to his
memory with a vividness increased by present cir-
cumstances.
" I'll — I'll go and talk to George about it, and
show him the letter," continued our hero, still talk-
ing to himself.
Snatching up his cap, he put it on his head, and
hurried down the stairs; but his cousin George's
door was " sported " very determinedly against
152 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
assault, and his knocks and gentle kicks remained
unanswered.
He stood in the doonvay looking on the quad,
when Mrs. Cribb came up, with a can in one hand
and a pail in the other. Our hero was first made
aware of her presence by hearing her voice —
" Beg parden, sir," said his bedmaker, " but if
the tooters should see you in your dressin' gownd,
a-walkin' about of a mornin', they might objeck,
which has been the case before."
" Oh!" said our hero, for the first time thinking
of his dress — such was his excitement of mind on
the present occasion, though ordinarily the most
particular of men. '* I have — that is, I want to
see my cousin."
'• Meaning Mr. Golightly, my staircase ground
floor," said Mrs. Cribb. " He's been gone out half
an hour ago. I seed him myself, when I was
a-pumpin' a can of water Sneek ought to have
pumped an hour and a half before, a-goin' across
the quad in his boots and ridin' whip, so I think
p'r'aps he's gone for a ride or something, sir."
This was bad news, indeed ; and Mr. Samuel's
face fell accordingly. Just as George could have
been of immense service to him, to find him gone —
perhaps for the day ! What was he to do \ " Be
cool " — that was clear, but not easy. Then, again,
Memoirs of HI r. Goli^htly. 153
the honour of the family might or might not be at
stake, according to the way in which yon regarded
duelling. But his aunt Dorothea had cautioned
him to " remember that he was a Golightly ; " and
if the honour of the family were lost through him,
ivhat would his aunt say ? Write to Oakingham-
cum-Pokeington ? But his mamma would die of
anxiety and alarm ; and he never could trust his
father to keep the affair a secret, for he knew all
the family would insist on reading the letter, or go
into instant hysterics if they did not. He was in a
dilemma — a peculiar dilemma, of a circular sort,
with horns all round. Two would have been no-
thing to deal with. Turning these things over in
his mind, he retraced his steps to his own rooms.
'* You've gone and let this nice chop get cold,
sir. Shall I put it before the fire for a few mi-
nutes \ It would soon get hot again, with a plate
over it.
But her master had not the slightest appetite for
chops, hot or cold ; and told Mrs. Cribb that such
was the case.
" Dear me, now," said that worthy woman, in a
tone of the deepest concern, as she cleared away his
breakfast things, and gleefully put the chop into
her basket, with the breads and butters and other
perquisites it contained.
154 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Mr. Golightly retired into the solitude of the
little room dignified by the name of study, and
there thought. He had not been so engaged more
than a few minutes, when he thought he heard a
low and hesitating single knock at the door of his
keeping-room. He advanced as far as his study
door to satisfy himself of the truth of his surmise.
The knock was repeated in the same timid fashion.
He walked towards the door, and happening at the
same time, as he passed his windows, to cast his
eyes across the quad, he saw about half a dozen
seedy individuals, of different ages and degrees of
shabbiness, coming towards the block of buildings
in which he resided. It struck him as being an
unusual phenomenon ; but what with being near-
sighted and much preoccupied in mind with the
thought of Mr. Chutney's letter, Mr. Golightly
failed to observe that each of these persons carried
in his hands a hat, and in some cases an umbrella.
By this time, the knock at his door was repeated in
a louder and more determined tone, and he opened
the door to an individual — who held in one hand
the bill describing, in most effective type, the loss
of a hat and umbrella sustained by a gentleman of
St. Mjii^^s College, and in the other hand a battered
beaver and a tattered imrapluie.
Placing the bill in our hero's hand, the bearer
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 155
took off his own hat, and, giving his curling fore-
lock a respectful pull, said —
"Mister G'lighty — d'rected here by the porter
at the gate — said as you was the gen'elman as had
lost a Nat and a Numbereller. Beggin' pardon,
sir, is these 'um'? They was found — upon my
Dick, they was — a fioatin' down the river agen
Maudlin" (Magdalen) "Bridge. Out in the middle
they was, upon my Dick ; and great trouble I had
a-reskyin' of 'um."
Mr. Golightly at once admitted that he was the
gentleman who had lost a hat and an umbrella, and
the bill produced referred to his property ; but he
indignantly repudiated any connection with the
articles produced. They were both in the last
stage of decay, and must have been thrown into
the river as the best means of getting rid of them ;
but as they were quite dry now, and showed no
sign of any recent immersion, our hero slightly
doubted the assertion of the finder, and felt disin-
clined even to believe him on " his Dick " — which
was probably his way of invoking Saint Richard in
short, an oath he made use of with great solemnity
of manner several times over.
This Bargee — as Mr. Pokyr afterwards styled
him — had hardly got to the end of his narrative of
the rescue from a watery grave of the hat and um-
156 The Cajubridge Freshman ; or,
brella he carried, when several other Bargees made
their appearance, and urged their rival claims to
credence; addressing Mr. Golightly with great re-
spect, and each other with a considerable degree of
contempt, and much more appropriate imagery in
the way of language.
" N-no, no, no — none of them are mine," ex-
claimed Mr. Golightly, whose room was, by this
time, filled with the Bargees, and who did not
know how in the world to get rid of them.
"'Xcuse me, sir, but this un is yourn, and no
mistake about it," cried one, holding up for our
hero's inspection an old drab wide-awake.
" No, I never had such a one."
" Let the gen'elman alone. He knows his own —
in course he do. This un's his ; my brother Billy
seed it drop off his head."
And so each Bargee pressed his claims upon Mr.
Golightly, with much volubility. At last, a man in
a horsey suit of clothes and a bird's-eye neckerchief,
who seemed to have come in with the rest " on
spec," as he apparently had not found the identical
hat Mr. Samuel had lost, remarked —
" Well, if none of these hats aint the gen-
tleman's, what I say is, What is he going to
standi'
*' That's right, Spot," said one.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 157
""Well done, Glanders!" said another, "Go it—
that's the ticket."
" 'It 'im agen ! "
" Brayvo ! " from a great many.
Encouraged by these remarks, Spot Glanders,
their spokesman, proceeded —
" You see, sir, you are a gentleman, and these
here men have taken a great deal of trouble to re-
store your property to you ; and if the mistake is
theirs, it's partly yours as well, for there isn't no
description of the hat and the umbrella on the
bills."
" Hear, hear ! " from all the Bargees.
" And time is time, and money too, to us work-
ing men here."
" So it is, Spot."
A happy thought struck Mr. Golightly. He
had some silver in his pocket.
He had proceeded to the distribution of several
shillings as a recompense for the trouble the
Bargees had taken on his account, when Mr.
Sneek suddenly appeared on the scene. Placing
himself in his favourite attitude in the doorway,
and addressing the assembled roughs, the gyp said,
with a smile of irony —
" And what are you all here for? Come, clear
out."
158 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
In vain Spot Glanders remonstrated; in vain
the Bargees protested or murmured at the hard-
ness of their fate.
" Clear out, or I'll have you all discommonsed,"
said Sneek.
Slowly and unwillingly, those who had not been
favoured with the shillings left the room ; com-
forting themselves, however, with the reflection,
"We've got enough for a gallon or two 0' beer
among us."
"They're imposin' upon you, sir," said Sneek,
as soon as they were gone. " I do hate imposition
of any sort, and often I've said so to Cribb, when
I've seed her or anybody else a-takin' advantage
behind my back."
"They brought what they said were my hats
and umbrellas," said our hero, laughing, and for-
getting his greater cause of disquiet in the recol-
lection of the Bargee encounter.
" Your 'At and Umbereller," reiterated the gyp,
with a satirical sneer — "let them as sent 'em to
you give 'em something for comin.' That's what
I say."
Here Mr. Sneek gave a flip or two with his
duster to the table legs, with an air of conscious
rectitude very impressive to witness.
Our hero was again rapt in thought — the duel
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 159
in prospective taking up the whole of his attention.
He wanted a confidant very badly; and Sneek was
certainly a man of sense, and versed in the cus-
toms of University life.
He was within an ace of communicating some
slight hint of his trouble to honest John Sneek,
when Mr. Pokyr called to pay him a visit, and so
relieved him of the necessity of unburdening him-
self to his gyp.
"Good morning, Golightly," said Mr. Pokyr,
with a sprightly but innocent air. "I have just
looked up your cousin, but I find his door is
sported. So I suppose he's out."
" George is out, I believe," responded our hero.
" Mrs. Cribb told me she saw him go across the
quad an hour ago."
" Early bird. After the little grubs, no doubt.
Had anybody here this morning, my dear boy?
Looking at you with the philosophical eye of
an old hand, I should say your mental equani-
mity is slightly disturbed. AVhose pills do you
take?"
"I do not often require medicine, thank you,"
said our hero, with refreshing innocence. " When
we do, we have antibilious pills from Keele's, at
Fuddleton. I have had a number of people here
this morning — "
i6o The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Yerse," said Mr. Sneek, " we hav had them, as
you s
Before he had finished his sentence, the gyp ob-
served that Mr. Pokyr was pointing imperatively
in the direction of the door ; and there was also
a dangling, swaying motion of his right foot ac-
companying it which was not lost upon Sneek,
who rapidly made his exit. When he had closed
the door behind him, and was out of danger —
pointing back with his left thumb over his shoul-
der, and at the same time winking his eye — he
said to himself —
"You are a-havin' him a rum un. All round
the 'oop, and no mistake."
"What say, John Sneekl" said Mrs. Cribb, who
was in the gyp-room, just packing up her basket
for departure.
"What do I say, Betsy Cribb] I say, get out o'
the way," was the polite rejoinder. "What 'ave
we got there ■?"
And Sneek proceeded carefully to overhaul Mrs.
Cribb's basket, to assure himself that she had
got nothing in it that properly belonged to him —
conduct the bedmaker resented very indignantly
indeed.
"Really, what a funny thing! Kind of them,
though, was it not]" Mr. Pokyr said to Mr. Go-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. i6i
lightly, when he heard of the visit our hero had
received from the Bargees.
" I have thought since, do you know, that they
must have known that the hats and umbrellas were
not mine," replied Mr. Golightly.
" Not a bit of it, my dear boy, I assure you. All
of them honest, poor fellows; and, after all, the
working classes are very ignorant, you know.
How were they to tell what style of hat you wore
on a weekday r'
"We for-forgot to describe them."
*'Ah, we did. But it was too bad of you to let
Sneek turn them all out just as you were 'liberally
rewarding' them."
"Was if? Do you think it was]" said our
hero, vacantly — not in the least knowing what his
queries meant. " Pokyr," he said, abruptly, '^read
that." And he placed the missive The O'Higginc
had brought him an hour before in his friend's
hand. " Read that letter. I don't know what in
the world to do."
Mr. Pokyr stood with one foot on the window
seat, and carefully read the letter.
" There's no doubt about it," he said, shaking
his head, ominously. "You see. Chutney is a
very excitable fellow."
"Am I — am I obliged to accept iti" asked Mr
1 62 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
Samuel, nervously, placing his hands behind his
back, and staring at his friend.
"Ton my honour, I think you are. There
seems no other way out of it. Ugly affair — pre-
engagement between Miss Bellair and Chutney,
seemingly. But 'take a bull by the horns,' you
know," he added, cheerfully.
" But — but — but," said our hero, " I don't want
to take a bull by the horns."
"All over by this time to-morrow. Be a man.
I'll telegraph result to our friends at the Rectory.
Think all the better of you for behaving like a
man of spirit, whatever may happen."
"Aunt Dorothea would," said Mr. Samuel,
thinking aloud. " But suppose — "
Mr. Pokyr closed his eyes and shook his head.
" Do suppose a case — only suppose it, you know
— suppose I did not exactly wish to fight — "
" The only way out of it now, I fear."
" Would not a sort — a sort of apol — "
" Apology 1 Oh, Chutney is the last man in the
world to take any apology. The fact is, he loves
a fight — swords or pistols."
"The bloodthirsty little wretch," thought Mr.
Samuel.
" His speech at the Union was in favour of duels,
was it notV asked Mr. Pokyr. " I was not there."
Memoirs of ]\Ir. Golightly. 163
o
tt
It was," said our hero, with a deep-drawn sigh
of despair.
" Screw your courage up to the shooting point.
It's nothing, after all. Make your will first, and
then you will have nothing on your mind."
"But I thought duelling was quite out of date.
I'm sure I've heard so."
" Not here. Universities are old-fashioned places.
Old manners hang about for ages."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Samuel, in
great trepidation, "what would my Fa say?"
"Your Fa would say, Fight. He would not see
the family honour in the dust."
" But — but I never fired a pistol off in my life,'*
urged Mr. Golightly, faintly.
" Never mind that — easiest thing in the world, I
assure you," said I\Ir, Pokyr, stretching out his
hand and imitating the action. " You can stand
close together, you know."
" I should like to be some distance off. I do>
not wish to shoot Chutney."
"And he does not wish to shoot you, my dear
fellow. Merely a matter of form, which must be
gone through, or your honour is gone. You could
not live here, and see yourself pointed at as the
man Avho dared not fight to rescue his own honour!
Now, could you]"
M 2
164 The Cambridge Fj'eshinan; or,
"But suppose anything happenecir'
" Fire in the air — thus," said Pokyr, aiming
with his finger at the ceiling. " Then you can't
hurt Chutney, you know."
" I wish George had not gone out," said Mr.
Samuel
" Yes, it is a pity. He would have told you as
I do. You must accept the challenge."
In the end, Mr. Golightly commissioned Mr.
Pokyr to carry his reply to the other side; and
willingly left all preliminary arrangements in his
hands.
During the morning, The O'Higgins was busily
engaged in keeping up the courage of Mr. Chut-
ney — not an easy task ; and his mind was consider-
ably relieved when Pokyr arrived with the answer
of our hero, accepting the gage that had been
thrown down.
Those gentlemen at once sat down to arrange
between them the place, the time, and the weapons.
This being done to their satisfaction, they strolled
into the cigar shop of the teterrima causa belli — the
Brown-street Venus, otherwise Miss Emily Bellair.
Giving Mrs. Bellair a nod as they walked through
the shop, they passed into the little back parlour,
which was styled, on the half-glass door which shut
it off from the snuff and tobacco jars, " Cigar
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 165
Divan." Here, looking at the morning papers,
they found Mr. Blaydes.
"Well, is it a goT' asked the last-named gentle-
man.
"Right as ninepence," replied Mr. Pokyr.
"They are going to fight it out like men."
" Well done," said Blaydes. " I would have
given anything to pay that little braggart, Chut-
ney, back in his own coin. Strange we have so
soon got the chance. What a pair of nincom-
poops they both are!"
Mr. Pokyr nodded benignly, by way of reply.
" When is it to be \ "
" To-morrow morning, at eight."
" Where r'
" Behind the Ditch on Newmarket Heath."
" Weapons of war ?"
" Pistols — be all the saints," ejaculated The
O'Higgins.
" Keep it quiet, and don't tell any fellows," said
Pokyr, as a caution to Jamaica Blaydes, whose
tongue was not that of a discreet man. "We
brought the other little affair Avith Sneek's daugh-
ter off very nicely; and this morning his room
was full of Bargees from every point of the com-
pass
))
" You got in at the finish?"
1 66 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" No — I was late. Sneek had just sent them all
off. Never mmd, the duel will be the best fun we
have had this year. They are both in a mortal
funk of one another ; and I'll lay a wager neither
hits a haystack at ten paces."
" They are sure to show up ? The Heath is a
long way to go for nothing, at such an unearthly
hour as eight."
" Better go to-night, and sleep there."
" Not a bad notion ; but if Bloke knew the
reason, he might refuse the exeat^' replied the
wary Blaydes.
" We are going to keep their courage up. The
Captain is to stay with Tommy, and I coach Go-
lightly. We've sent George out of the way — that
is, he is sported in, and won't open to anybody —
which, after all, is as good as being fifty miles
)iway. He says he dares not advise his cousin Sa-
muel to fight, for fear of after-rows."
After drinking a tankard of bitter, wnich Mrs.
Bellair's precocious little boy fetched from the Pig
and AVhistle opposite, the three friends separated.
Mr.Pokyr went off to coach one rival, at St. Mary's;
the Captain to the King's Parade, to keep up the
pluck of the other.
" I have brought a pistol with me, for you just to
get your eye in, Golightly," said Pokyr, who found
Memoirs of I\Ir. Go lightly. 167
our hero in a very despondent state, sitting over
his fire, with his head between his hands, looking
thoughtfully at the embers.
" Thank you — I don't feel very well."
" But, by Jove, you must feel well, or you'll be
nothing but a target to-morrow. Think of Muley
Moloch, or some fellow, and be well."
" AVhat did Muley Moloch do ?"
" Why, made up his mind to be well, and was
well."
" I'll — I'll try," said Mr. Samuel, with a faint
smile on his wan features.
" Stand up," said Pokyr, in the tone of a drill-
sergeant addressing his awkward squad.
Mr. Samuel rose.
" Right about— wheel."
He turned to his instructor, who placed a pistol
in his hands*
" It — it — isn't loaded, I hope," ejaculated Mr.
Golightly, eyeing the instrument of destruction
with manifest di-ead.
" No — got a cap on, that's all. Now, make ready
— stay, you want a mark. Here," said Pokyr, cut-
ting a button from his pantaloons, and taking a
pin from his neckerchief, with which he fixed the
button to the wall, "aim at that — fancy it's Chut-
ney's nose."
1 68 The Cambridge Freshman ; or.
"I can't," said Mr. Samuel — "it seems so wicked
to do so."
Mr. Pokyr never left his principal till late that
night. They dined together off beefsteak and
oyster sauce, Mr. Samuel's appetite for which was
not improved by his second's reminding him more
than once that he might never taste oysters again.
During the afternoon and evening he fired many
caps at the button, and made it shake on the pin
several times. There was a very gunpowdery at-
mosphere in the room when Mrs. Cribb came in.
" They're been lettin' off fireworks or something,
John Sneek," she said. " They'll be doin' some
mischief, mark my words."
"There's something hup," said Mr. Sneek, rub-
bing his nose sagaciously. "I'll find it out,
though."
With this remark, the gyp bade Mrs. Cribb good
night.
Mr. Golightly spent the night without getting
one wink of sleep, and the morning found him very
feverish and queer. At the early breakfast impro-
vised before the arrival of Mrs. Cribb, he found the
knives had crossed themselves, and he spilled the
salt. The omens were unpropitious ; but our hero
rose above omens. Like a certain potentate we
read of, who, when the birds were dead against
JMemoirs of Mr. Golightly. 169
him, kicked the Sacred Chickens, coop and all,
into the sea, Mr. Samuel uncrossed the knives, and
let the salt lie, in a reckless manner that plainly
bade them do their worst.
The drive to the Heath — a good twelve miles —
on a cool morning, took out of him what little
courage he had left after his sleepless night ; and,
like Bob Acres's, Mr. Samuel's valour was gone.
In vain Mr. Pokyr was facetious — in vain his joke
as they passed Quy Church —
" 'Ecclesia Quy stat in agris' — nearest church-
yard: might bring you there if anything serious
occurs. How shaky you look ! Have another pull
at the brandy flask."
" I don't feel quite myself," replied our hero.
It was plain he did not.
Behind the ditch they found poor Mr. Chutney
and the valorous O'Higgins waiting for them.
" The top of the morning to you," said the Cap-
tain to Mr. Pokyr.
The place was chosen — the ground was mea-
sured — all was ready for the signal to fire — when
an unexpected arrival made Mr. Pokyr exclaim —
" One moment, gentlemen — I perceive strangers
approaching."
1 70 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
CHAPTEE X.
CONSTABLES AND PEACEMAKERS.
ET US gently retrace our steps," the long-
winded Elder observed, when his con-
gregation thought he had just wound
up for that occasion ; and, at the risk of disappoint-
ing our readers, we must address them in the
Elder's words. The amiable hero of this history
had been a tolerably pliant reed in the skilful
hands of Mr. Pokyr. He had screwed up Mr.
Samuel's courage to that " sticking point " Lady
Macbeth speaks of, and taught him to snap caps
on a pistol at an alarming rate — all in the short
space of twenty-four hours; and if Mr. Samuel
Adolphus Golightly did not reach the soft turf
behind the Ditch at Newmarket an accomplished
duellist, it was not his second's fault.
It is, perhaps, not in the common order of things
that a man should learn the whole art of duelling
in the short space of one day, nor digest the know-
]\lemoi7^s of Ulr. Golightly. 1 7 1
ledge he has acquired in one sleepless night: a
great deal must depend upon the courage, nerve,
and coolness of the combatant. Unfortunately,
Mr. Golightly was well aware of this ; and, with
the thought, he bade good-bye for ever to such
pluck, steadiness, and sang froid as he previously
boasted. Many people — the writer of this biogra-
phy among the number — will not be disposed to
think the worse of him for this, under the special
circumstances of the case ; for, after all, fighting is
not a Christian thing ; and, as our hero's facetious
second observed, a few minutes before the encoun-
ter —
"Perhaps, my dear Golightly, you'd rather eat
Chutney potted, than — pot him heated, by JoveV
A very faint smile marked Mr. Samuel's recogni-
tion of his friend's reprehensible attempt at a joke.
The O'Higgins had before him a task even more
difficult in the work of bringing Mr. Chutney " up
to the scratch." The Indian gentleman, forgetful
of his valorous words, urged a variety of reasons
against fighting himself; and it required all the
natural and oily eloquence of the first-named gen-
tleman to convince, calm, and reassure him. On
the eventful morning, Mr. Chutney felt so ill, that
his second had very hard work to persuade him to
start. Mr. Chutney felt the most burning desire to
17- The Cambridge Freshinan; or,
fight; but he wished to put in an agrotat that
morning, and postpone the hostile meeting until
he felt better fitted for the combat. He talked of
a surgeon's certificate ; and was only finally per-
suaded to take his seat in the dogcart from Spratt's
on the assurance of The O'lliggins that after all,
in all human probability, the ride to the Heath
would turn out "merely a matter of for-rm — arl
glory and no risk, bedad; for that Golightly will
never be there — you see if he will."
It was plain Mr. Chutney devoutly hoped that
his adversary would not turn up to time.
" We shall have the ride all for nothing, then,"
he urged.
"Not at arl, me dear sti'," returned The O'Hig-
gins. " If Golightly isn't there, isn't it just as
good as shooting him, and better besides'? "
" But I don't want to go twelve miles for no-
thing," Chutney objected.
" Certainly not — of course not."
"Could not we find out if he is gone?" he
pleaded.
" Well, it would not be the right thing exactly.
We must go over and find out for ourselves."
" I don't feel at all well," said the principal. " I
hate being rattled about in a dogcart. It shakes
me to pieces always."
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 173
" I'll drive," replied the second. " You must
not touch the reins. You are bound to keep your
hand steady."
"Oh!" groaned the Indian, "I thought you said
Golightly would not be there."
" It's — it's all Lombard-street to a Chaney orange
he won't. I'd — I'd bet a hundred pounds to six-
pence he isn't — now!" said The O'Higgins, glaring
wildly at his poor little victim.
" I've a great mind to take you," he replied.
But after a moment's reflection, feeling that
the Captain's hundred was spelled with three
ciphers, and that in reality the wager would be
sixpence to nothing at all, he did not accept the
offer.
"How do you know Golightly will not turn
upV he asked abruptly.
"Well," said the Captain, turning the matter
over in his mind, " Pokyr hinted as miuch to me
yesterday morning."
" I never take any notice of what Pokyr says,"
retorted Chutney. " Besides, he is sure to make
Golightly go."
" One man can take a horse to the water," urged
the Captain, allegorically, "but ten can't make
him drink."
" How do vou mean]'*
174 The Cambricfge Freshman ; or,
" Why, I mean he'll fire in the air, if he fires at
all. That I do know."
The dogcart being now in waiting, Mr. Chut-
ney, having put on many wrappers, took his seat
gloomily by the Captain's side ; and they drove ofi"
together.
" What would the Club think of you, you know,
if you didn't show up, after everything that has
been said]" the Captain observed, after they had
driven some distance without a word being spoken
on either side.
"Confound the Club — they've none of them
ever fought a duel," replied Chutney, irritably.
"Think of all you've said, though, on the sub-
ject," said the Captain, in a soothing tone.
" My views — are considerably altered, O'Hig-
gms.
"Bcdad, it's manny a man I've winged," ob-
served the Captain, vaguely, by way of keeping up
the conversation.
"Wherel"
" In all parts of me native countree. Lave an
Irishman alone for picking a dacent quarr'l, when
the occasion presints itself," said The O'Higgins,
bravely.
" I should like a glass of something," said Chut-
ney.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 175
They were passing a roadside inn, just out of
Cambridge.
Some time was lost in rapping up the people of
the house, who were hardly astir yet.
After a glass of brandy and water, Mr. Chutney
felt better. The Captain joined him for company's
sake.
"That's yourself, now," he said, as his friend
plucked up courage when he found there were no
recent marks of wheels on the road. " We're first,
at all events," he added.
"I thought you said they would not come!"
"So I did," replied The O'Higgins. "But if
they do, sure you'll behave like a man — and a
Mutton Cutlet r'
"Hang the Mutton Cutlet!" was the brief re-
sponse.
Presently, however, Mr. Chutney's spirits grew
lighter. At Quy Church the Captain made the
same dog-Latin joke which has been recorded of Mr.
Pokyr in our last chapter. "Quy Church stands
in the fields," and qui-te remote from the village.
"A qui-et place enough if anything should
happen to Mr. Golightly," said the Captain.
" I hate stupid puns," said Chutney. " Besides,
ecdesia is not the word for the fabric of a church,
and qui does not agree with it."
176 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
"Bedad! the prawspict of foigliting does not
agree with you, me boy," the Captain thought, but
wisely said nothing.
" We're first on the field, and that's something,"
he said, when, after an hour's drive, they pulled
up at the appointed rendezvous behind the Ditch.
"How long are we obliged to waif?" asked the
principal, nervously.
" Not more than an hour or two, at most."
"Bound to doit?"
" In honour," replied the second.
Mr. Chutney's face fell.
They inspected the ground ; and The O'Higgins
paced it in due form.
" Stand with your back so," said the Captain, " is
moy advice."
" Goodness ! " said Mr. Chutney, cheering up
suddenly, " you've forgotten to bring any pistols. I
left it to you, of course. We can't — "
" Pokyr will provide the weapons," replied the
Captain, calmly.
Mr. Chutney took a seat on the grass bank be-
hind him.
"Stay— hark— h'sh!" cried the Captain, "i
think I hear wheels — they're coming."
"NoV
" Yes ! all right — here they come."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 177
" I don't hear anything," said the principal,
hoping almost against hope. " Now I do. Is it
Pokyrr'
His doubts were speedily set at rest by the au-
rival of our hero and Mr. Pokyr in another dog-
cart.
" The small pistols or the large ones \ " said Mr.
Pokyr, after he was safely out of the vehicle, pro-
ducing two cases of weapons.
" Small ones ! " cried both the combatants, in a
breath.
" Stop, stop, gentlemen — we must settle these
things," said Pokyr, conferring with The O'Hig-
gins. " Shall we use the large or the small. Cap-
tain? Both brace are certain death " — this remark
was made in a voice both Mr. Samuel and Mr.
Chutney could too plainly hear — "never knew
either of them to miss fire."
The ground was measured — the two gentlemen
took up their positions. Behind Mr. Chutney was
the wide-spreading Heath. Mr. Golightly turned
his broad shoulders towards the belt of trees known
as the Plantations. A few friends, who had come
over unseen by the duellists, looked calmly on; and
a stray donkey left his pasture on the Heath to
gaze upon the unaccustomed scene.
As we said in our last chapter, the ground had
T<I
I7S
The Cambridge Freshman; or,
been duly paced out, and the rivals held the instru-
ments of vengeance in their hands, and were both
of them ready to faint with terror.
MR. GOLIGHTLY MAKES HIS DEBUT ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE.
"'One's frit and t'other daren't,' as the street
boys say," Mr. Pokyr said to the Captain.
" That's about it, me boy," w^as The O'Higgins's
answer.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. lyg
" Are we ready 1 "
" We're all ready on this side — I'll go bail for
that," said the Captain.
Just as Mr. Pokyr was about to give the signal
to fire, he suddenly exclaimed —
" One moment, gentlemen — I perceive strangers
approaching ! "
The strangers were those three active, intelligent
members of the county constabulary, Officers 33,
55, and 99, who had been out on General Hall's
land, on the trail of a wicked young poacher who
had long evaded the clutches of the law. They
had searched all night in vain ; and now here
was game indeed. Nimbly they hopped over the
broken railing which separated them by a feeble
resistance from the field of battle ; and before Mr.
Samuel Adolphus Golightly had time to recollect
where he was, or to ascertain who the expected
arrivals were, he was safe in the custody of Con-
stable 33. 55 and 99 gave chase to Mr. Chutney,
who had very quickly taken to his heels — fearing
in his heart that Pokyr would try to square the
police, and after all the thing would go on much
as if this lucky episode had never occurred. As
fright, however, had rather weakened his knees, he
was speedily caught by the aforesaid active and
zealous members of the county force.
N 2
i8o The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
" Give us your gun/' said 99, who could not
altogether divest his mind of poaching. "What
game are you arter "? "
"Ah! what's your little game?" demanded 55,
backing up his brother officer.
" We — were — going to fight a duel," gasped
Chutney, relieved at being safe in custody.
" Oh, oh ! " said the policemen, in a gruff duet.
" Breach of Queen's peace."
" Unlawful assembly for illegal purposes."
Now, for the first time, Mr. Chutney saw the
friends who had come to see him fight.
" Fight a dooel, eh? " said 99. " Give us your
gun ! " and he took the pistol from Mr. Chutney's
unresisting hand.
" You're our prisoner, sir — for the present, at all
events."
" I'm — I'm rather glad to hear it."
" Now, raly, sir, you're too flatterin'. You Cam-
bridge gents are full of chaff ; but you don't catch
us old birds with none on it."
" I'll give you a sov apiece not to let me out of
custody till the thing is all settled — "
" By the magistrates at Newmarket — we sha'n't,
don't you fear."
" No — by the other side. I don't want to shoot
the other gentleman. You see, he's such a bad
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 1 8 1
shot. I should be almost certain to kill him — I
should indeed, and I don't want to do it."
" I don't think he would — would he, Grimes'?"
said 99, holding up the pistol for his brother officer's
inspection. " This 'ere aint up to much, sir — it
aint loaded."
Mr. Chutney stood in blank amazement. The
statement was true enough.
" Then I've been made a perfect fool of! " roared
the principal.
" P'raps the stout young gen'elman's aint loaded
either," said Inspector Grimes, with a chuckle.
Mr. Chutney groaned deeply. How different
would have been his conduct had he but known all
before ! How bold his front ! But now^ — ! He
groaned again.
Meanwhile an explanation had taken place be-
tween Messrs. Pokyr, Golightly, and O'Higgins,
and that active officer. Constable 33 ; and they
appeared to have come to an understanding. Our
hero was laughing merrily, and examining the
barrel of his pistol in a way he would never have
done if it had been loaded.
" We are of opinion," said Sergeant Grimes,
after a short consultation with his brother officers,
" that shooting with unloaded pistols does not con-
1 82 The Cambi-idge Freshman; or,
stitute a breach of the peace in the eye of the
law."
" No," said 55 and 99.
" Therefore," continued the sergeant, " gentle-
men, you are at liberty."
" And at large," said 99 and 55.
" Let us shake hands," said Mr. Samuel to his
late opponent.
But poor little Chutney hung down his head in
a ridiculous way. All his fire was gone.
" Gentlemen," said Mr. Pokyr, taking the rivals
by the hand, " you have done all that honour
needeth. Therefore, be friends once more. You
met, and you would have fought — though, happily,
without injury to each other's limbs — if the police
had not stopped you."
"Many fights are stopped by the police," said
Sergeant Grimes.
" In this countree, perhaps," growled The
O'Higgins. " But I know where no fights are
stopped; and where, bedad, nobody could hum-
bug Timothy Fitzgerald O'Higgins with empty
pistols."
This was a sore blow to the Captain, who be-
lieved firmly in the bona fides of the meeting — if it
could be brought about.
" You don't want to fight, Captainr' said Pokyr.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 183
*' Not I, beclad. You've stolen a march on me,
me boy; and that's the long and short of the
matter. So, least said soonest mended. I'm doosid
peckish."
While this dialogue was going on between Mr.
Pokyr and the Captain, Mr. Chutney and Mr. Go-
lightly had shaken hands and made fliends and
acquaintances of each other at the same moment.
The various friends gathered round them; and
even the donkey drew near to witness the general
reconciliation.
"Peckish!" cried Chutney, gaining spirits fast.
" I am nearly fainting."
Tommy was very careful of the inner man at all
times.
"I am hungry," said our hero, who played no
indiiferent knife and fork himself.
In the end, it was decided to breakfast at
Newmarket. The dogcarts were remounted by
some of the party, and room was found in
the waggonette Mr. Calipee had driven over
for the police, who - w^re invited to partake of
breakfast at the Green Lion. Once there, everv-
thing unpleasant was soon drowned in the clat-
ter of knives and forks, and in the business of
eating.
"Well," said Mr. Pokyr, when he received
184 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
the bill for the breakfast which the policemen
had eaten, — " Well, I should not have thought
it possible that they could have done it — that's
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 185
CHAPTER XI.
TREATS BOTH OF THE STABLE AND THE UNSTABLE.
HE duel which came to so fortunate and
bloodless a conclusion in our last chapter
had at least the single merit of being
fought on classic ground. That merry prince
whom jolly Dick Steele talks of with so much
gusto in his Spectator paper on " Pleasant Fel-
lows," visited the Heath times enough in his royal
coach-and-six, and often cantered over the very
spot afterwards made famous as the scene of our
hero's duel, while he watched the strugforles of his
match horses over the four miles and a quarter of
the Beacon course. And since his time, the roval
example he set of " being the first man at cock-
matches, horse-races, balls, and plays," has been
emulated by many personages hardly less eminent
than King Charles the Second, who all appear to
have been as " highly delighted on those occa-
sions " with what they saw and did, as the Merry
1 86 The Cambridge Freslwian; or,
Monarch was himself. Although, since the days
of our Prince, of pleasant memory, large tracts of
land abutting on the Heath, that were waste lands
in his time, have been put under cultivation, and
now bear splendid crops of grain, Newmarket
Heath itself is very little changed. Under the
conservative influences of the Dukes of Rutland
and the Jockey Club, the features of this match-
less racecourse and training-ground remain pretty
much the same from generation to generation.
An old and decayed post may occasionally be re-
placed by a new one, or a few pounds of white
paint be laid on the railings near the Stands : but
these changes are not great. There is, however,
one alteration in the aspect of the Heath since the
days of old, when first it became celebrated as a
place of sport, which we must notice : whereas, in
King Charles's time, a dozen horses of his Ma-
jesty's, and a few belonging to certain noblemen of
the Court, were almost all the blood-stock of Eng-
land ; now, seven or eight hundred race-horses are
trained at Newmarket; and as Mr. Golightly was
driven along the level mile from what had lately
been the scene of his hostile encounter with Mr.
Chutney, he observed long strings of these animals
at exercise, walking, doing steady canters, or gal-
loping at top speed, in various parts of the Heath,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 187
and giving it a very lively appearance. Our hero,
whose spirits had risen very rapidly at the termi-
nation of his duel, and the speedy prospect of
breakfast, remarked to his friend Mr. Pokyr, who
held the ribands, and managed the steed that had
brought them from Cambridge with his wonted
skill, carefully nursing him for a spurt into the
town to finish with —
" Pokyr."
" Golightly."
" What are those horses % What numbers there
are about!"
"Long-tailed uns — race-horses," responded his
friend.
"What are they doing 1 What a pace they are
going at!" said our hero, with animation, pointing
to a long team galloping on the lower ground to
their left hand. " They are racing, I believe," he
added, involuntarily rising on his legs in the dog-
cart, at imminent risk of a fall.
" You'll be spilt if you are not careful. Sit down
— had you not better V
" I am very fond of horses, Pokyr," said Mr.
Golightly, as he resumed his seat.
"I should think you are — who is nof?" replied
his friend, giving the horse he drove a cut with the
whip.
1 88 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Of all things, I should like to go over the
stables," said Mr. Samuel, pursuing the subject.
"Well, you can do that if you like, without
much trouble, I dare say," said Mr. Pokyr. " Now
we'll rattle into the Green Lion. Hold tight now,
and see how I shall turn the corner." With that
remark, he tooled the dogcart neatly into the yard.
After breakfast had been despatched, the subject
of the stables was revived again.
" Capital weeds Kitty keeps," said Mr. Blaydes.
" Yes," replied Mr. Chutney — who, being sub-
dued in spirit, strove to lose himself in his cigar.
" I always like a cigar after breakfast," said Mr.
Calipee, " but I never can smoke any but my own ;
and, unfortunately, I have left my case behind me.
I must blame you, Golightly, for bringing me out
so early."
Our hero smiled pleasantly, having quite forgiven
his friends for their last practical joke, and rapidly
recovering himself from its effects.
" What in the world we are to do at Newmarket,
if we stop," Mr. Calipee proceeded, " I really don't
know."
" Smoke, I suppose," said Pokyr.
" But I have no weeds with me," said Calipee.
" Shouldn't be surprised if the Captain had got
one or two of yours with him," suggested Mr. Fitz-
Memoirs of Air. Go lightly. 189
foodel, who hitherto had been occupied with his
breakfast.
"No, me dear sir, not at all," said Mr. O'Hig-
gins, in self-defence ; " for I smoked me last on the
way, and very foine seegyars they are."
"Newmarket is the dullest place in the world,
except in INIeeting-weeks : is it not, Miss Farmer \ "
said Calipee, addressing the hostess, who looked
very fresh and charming in her white and blue
pique morning gown.
"Newmarket dull! — oh, Mr. Calipee, how can
you say so '? " replied the lively Kitty, standing
behind Mr. Calipee's chair, and playfully patting
his fat shoulder with her ring-bedizened hand.
" You don't think we are dull — now, do you, Mr.
Pokyrl"
Thus appealed to, what could that gentleman
say but what he did 1
" What place could be dull where you are,
Kitty r'
"Don't, pray don't begin to be facetious, Mr.
Pokyr," replied the lady.
" Never more serious in my life, you know that
— so don't pretend you don't," said ^Ir. Pokyr. "I
want to introduce a particular friend of mine to
you," he continued.
" Who is zatr' asked Kitty.
r 90 The CambiHdge Freshman, or;
Mr. Samuel blushed slightly. He felt his turn
was coming.
" Mr. Golightly, a prominent member of the
Swelldom of my native county. Stand up, Go-
lightly, and show Miss Farmer how tall you are.
We are a fine race of fellows, are we not \ This
young gentleman's brethren are all taller than he
is."
" Don't be silly, Mr. Pokyr. Glad to see you at
Newmarket, Mr. Golightly. Golightly !— oh, yes,
I know. There is a Mr. Golightly who comes
sometimes. Is he your brother \ "
"Cousin," replied Mr. Samuel. "My cousin
George."
"Ah, I know why you came!" said Kitty, hold-
ing up her finger archly. "Too bad of them.
Never mind, though; we'll pay them out some
day, won't we"?"
And Mr. Samuel felt himself a personal friend
of the fascinating Miss Farmer all in a moment.
"Well, Mr. Chutney, no mis'ief done. You
must come and play at c'oquet on my ground in
the summer, and help me in my garden, Mr. Go-
lightly. Such a beautiful present from Mr. Blen-
kinsop, of St. Mary's, ze other day" — going to the
top of the little crooked flight of stairs. " Eliza!
— bring up that set of c'oquet things. There —
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 19:
are not they capital mallets'? So kind, was it
notr'
" You must show Mr. Golightly all your pre-
sents, Kitty," said Mr. Pokyr.
" So I will, some day — some day when you and
he ride over together."
" How are you getting on with your Latin, Miss
Farmer]" asked Blaydes. "You know, you trans-
lated the * Nunquam Dormio ' on Bell's Life for
me, the last time I was here."
" Oh, jolly! — such fun — I like it. What are you
men going to do]"
" Golightly would like to see one of the
stables."
" All right," replied their hostess. " I'll write
a little note to Mrs. Lawson, and she will ask
her husband to show you over the Lodge House
lot. After all, it's the best for you to see."
Presently, Kitty came back to say it was all
right; and that Mr. Lawson would be ready for
them, if they would walk up to the top of the
town.
"Well, I'll go," said Pokyr. "Who else will
come with usT'
Mr. Blaydes and Mr. Calipee expressed their
willingness to be of the party ; and, accordingly,
it was arranged that those three gentlemen, with
102 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Mr. Samuel, should proceed to Lodge House to-
gether.
" AVait one minute," said Kitty. " Sail you men
stay to dinner, because we want to know if you
do % We have got some very fine pheasants and a
hare."
"Poached'?" inquired Mr. Blaydes.
" Of course. My own particular private poacher
brought them to me late one night this week. I
won't say where they came from."
"Well, I suppose we may as Avell stay," said
Mr. Pokyr. " You order the dinner. Calipee, will
your'
The Indian gentleman having settled matters
with Miss Farmer to his satisfaction, they were
ready to start.
"Will you have any lunce? What time sail
we say for dinner'? "
" Oh, let us have dinner early," said Pokyr.
"Earlyish, I vote — not too soon," remarked
Calipee, whose appetite required coaxing.
"All right. I know. Early dinner — no lunce —
glass of serry and a biscuit, or something of that
sort. Oh, mamma," said Kitty, speaking to a very
nice old lady they met on their way out, " the
gentlemen will stay to dinner. You and cook will
see about it for them. Good-bye," she said, stand-
Memoh's of Mr. Go lightly. 193
ing under the tree in front of the quaint, old-
fashioned hosteh'v, and waving her hand after
them as they walked down the road towards
liodge House.
" What a very superior sort of person. Quite a
lady in her manners," was an observation made by
our hero, having reference to Miss Farmer, of the
Green Lion, a lady with whose charms many ge-
nerations of undergraduates have been smitten.
" Downy — very downy — knows it pays. How-
ever, it is a jolly place enough to go to," said Mr.
Pokyr.
" I like the old lady — old Mrs. Farmer; she's a
brick," said Calipee.
" One peculiarity about Miss Farmer I can't
make out," said Blaydes. " She never gets any
older — always looks the same. Why, my uncle
knew her when he was up at St. Mary's, and he
says she looked just the same then."
" No doubt lots of fellows' uncles knew her,"
said Pokyr.
The sun shone brightly on the tile roofs of the
red brick houses, and the picturesque little town
looked its best, as Mr. Golightly, escorted by his
friends, walked through the main street. Mr.
Pokyr pointed out to him the mansions of certain
of the nobility who maintain an establishment at
o
1 94 The Cambridge Freshman ; or^
Newmarket, to receive them during the six weeks
of attendance there, in the course of the sporting
year; the coffee-rooms and Moss's gambhng sa-
loons, where roulette and hazard were played
nightly during the Meeting weeks, by the noble-
men and gentlemen frequenting the place, for
many years, openly, and without any interruption
on the part of the police ; but, quite lately, a stop
has been put to these practices, from which no-
body will suffer in pocket except those wealthy
Israelites who keep the bank; though many gentle-
men think it is a great shame that there has been
any interference with their pursuits, and lose their
tempers accordingly. A sort of exemption for
Newmarket and Black Hambledon, in Yorkshire,
was given by certain Acts of Parliament, in the
matter of horse-races to be run at those places, and
the stakes that should be contended for ; and other
concessions were made to these favoured spots.
But it must be very many years since there
were races of any note at Black Hambledon,
though Newmarket maintains its ancient ^jre5-
tige. And it was a vague tradition among the
Newmarket people that they had a right, by
royal charter, to gamble in the " Meeting weeks,"
though the strong arm of the law put down the
tables in all other parts of England. Certainly,
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 195
the practice was in favour of this assumption, as
every little inn had its roulette table, if it chose
to set one up ; and hazard was openly played
at several places besides the palatial edifices con-
structed for that special purpose by the Messrs.
Moss.
Passing the police station, they saw their three
friends, Constables 33, 57, and 99, who touched
their hats with great respect to our hero and his
friends as they walked by.
Mr. Calipee said he could not go by the Rutland
without having a glass of dry sherry ; so they
walked into the bar, and refreshed themselves.
Faintness was a failing of the Indian gentleman's
when taking walking exercise.
After going a couple of hundred yards farther,
they arrived at Lodge House — a good residence,
standing in a garden, very neatly kept, with the
great square of stabling stretching at the back of
it. Rapping at the door of the house, they were
ushered into a large and well-appointed dining-
room, where Mr. Lawson gave them sherry and
biscuits before taking them over his establish-
ment. The general elegance — we might almost
say splendour — of the appointments in the house
of the trainer astonished our hero, who w^as not
o 2
196 Tlie Cambridge Freshman; or,
prepared to find so mucli luxury and refinement in
the domestic arrangements of a ci-devant ^oc\iey.
They found Lawson a very good sort of fel-
low. He had a string of ninety horses under his
charge.
" And they take up the most of my time, gen-
tlemen."
Lawson wore a suit of dark iron-gray cloth, with
a neatly folded white neckerchief, in which was
stuck a small gold horseshoe pin, scarcely percep-
tible at first sight. Mr. Golightly thought Lawson
looked more like the Reverend Mr. Bingley, of
Fuddleton, than like a professional trainer of race-
horses.
" Well, gentlemen — all ready ? " asked Lawson,
after passing his decanter of capital sherry round
again.
Our four friends having signified their readiness
to proceed, headed by Lawson, they walked round
the house into the great yard, enclosed on three
sides by long rows of well-built stables, and on the
fourth opening on the portion of the Heath at the
back of the town, extensively used as a training-
ground.
"We will begin here, gentlemen," said their
guide, throwing open a door to his right.
In this stable was a long row of stal]'=i, occupied
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 197
by about twenty animals, with thin legs and long
tails, which looked very much alike in their cloth-
ing; but all of which — in their constitutions, habits,
and propensities — were evidently well known to
Lawson.
" Don't stand too near that little filly — kicks
hard," he said.
Walking up to another splendid animal — with a
skin like satin, bright eye, sound legs, and good
temper — Lawson pulled the cloths ofi".
" There, gentlemen — there's one that's what we
call wound up : going to run next week in a big
handicap.''
" Will it win '\ " asked Mr. Samuel, quite de-
lighted with the horses, and not knowing that
trainers never give tips.
" Don't know, sir ; might do — might not."
" What is his name'?" inquired our hero.
" Mare, sir/' said Lawson, with a slight smile.
" Her name's Corisande. Belongs to the Duke of
B ."
In another stable they saw a Cesarewiich
and a Derby winner. Stripping the latter, and
giving him a friendly thump, which he ackuow
ledged by frisking about in his loose box, Lawson
said —
" Now, gentlemen, you may do what you like
igS The Cambridge Freshman ; or^
vA^\ hiiT.. He's more like a lamb than a horse —
and always was."
Accordingly, accepting this invitation, our hero
and ]\(r. Calipee stepped into the box, and made
friends with the celebrated horse who inhabited it.
Hfiving gone the round of the establishment,
from, the " aged " division to the unruly yearlings
just being "backed" and "broke," our party tipped
the head lad and the head lad's deputy, and then
wii;!hed Mr. Lawson good morning, and thanked
him for his kindness in showing them round the
I>odge House establishment. They walked quietly
back to the Green Lion, meeting on their way seve-
ral strings of horses coming from exercise on the
Heath; and passing in the High-street the loi-
terers, grooms, jockeys, stable-lads, and touts, who
are always to be seen hanging about. They then
managed to while away the time until dinner was
ready; and having done ample justice to that meal,
started on the return journey, which was much
more agreeable to two of the party than the ride
over to the Heath in the morning. The Captain,
not feeling very well, was relegated to Mr. Calipee
and the waggonette, w^hich started a few minutes
in advance of the dogcarts, but was speedily passed
by those vehicles of lighter draught. Under the
able guidance of our friend, Mr. Pokyr, his division
Mejuoirs of Mr. Go lightly
199
led the way, closely followed, however, by the dog-
cart driven by Mr. Blaydes. The waggonette over-
took them at Bottisham, where they pulled up for
a few minutes ; but after that nothing more was
^
THE RETURN HOME.
seen of it. The two dogcarts drove into Cambridge
in good style ; and at the gate of St. Mary's, the
men from the livery stable were awaiting their re-
200 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
turn. Our party, having got down, crossed the
quad, and following Mr. Pokyr's lead, went with
him to his rooms. Here, however, all was dark-
ness — neither fire nor lights awaited them.
" Mrs. Cribb is tight, I expect," said Mr. Pokyr,
calmly; " and my rascal is out of the way."
"No candles — no liquor, apparently," said Mr.
Blaydes.
" No," replied his friend Pokyr, at the same
time giving a loud and resonant " Tally ho ! Gone
away ! —
'Rise, Person, from thy grave, and halloo,
'Tis ovZt Tode, oi/Se raWw.'
However, we'll find them. Come on, Golightly,
your door is unsported."
In our hero's rooms, a singular scene presented
itself Mr. Sneek, who early in the day had smelt
gunpowder, observed to Mr. George Golightly that
he thought " there was something up — perhaps
gone to a pigeon match."
Mr. George, however, let out a hint of the real
state of affairs.
" Cribb," said Mr. Sneek to that personage in
the gyp-room, " there's somethink hawful in the
wind."
"John Sneek," exclaimed the excitable bed-
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 201
maker, " in the name of Goodness, what — and no
gammon'?"
" Mr. Samwell G'lightly is a fightin' a dooel."
"Afightin' whatV'
"A dooel — he'll never come back alive!''
" Ha' mercy on us ! John Sneek, there's a bottle
of pale brandy in his cupboard, or I think I should
faint."
"Which cupboard, Betsy?"
" The right 'and one, as the tea and shuggar's
kep' in."
An hour aftet-wards, Mr. Sneek and Mrs. Cribb
were seated before Mr. Golightly's fire. There
was not much of the pale brandy left ; but there
was some. This, however, was not in the bottle,
but in two tumblers on the table. One Mr.
Sneek considered his, the other Mrs. Cribb called
hers.
" Which pistols and fire-arms I can't abear, John
Sneek."
" No more can't I, Cribb."
" It was providential there was some brandy, or
I-should-ha'-fainted — I know I should."
" I'm going up to Eustace Jones's," observed Mr.
Sneek. " You'd better come. His bed aint made."
" I shall sit here a minnit longer, John Sneek.
I havn't got over the shock."
202 The Cambridge Freshma^i; or.
"I don't think you have, Betsy," the gyp re-
marked to himself; " and they'll be back soon."
Half an hour after this, Mr. Sneek just looked in
at his old acquaintance.
" Come, Betsy, wake up," he said, shaking the
old lady soundly by the shoulder.
" I-doe-care-f-no-b'y," was Mrs. Cribb's answer.
" Le'-me 'lone."
"All right — I'll let you alone, Betsy — I will.
P'raps you'll be sent off — which you richly deserve,
for this and other things — to say nothink of coals
taken out of College every day in your basket; and
then my poor wife, who'd be just the bedmaker for
this staircase, might get the place, Betsy ; so J. S.
— meaning John Sneek — \vill let you alone, since
you pertickler request it."
But Betsy snored in innocence and unsuspicion,
" Come on, let's try your rooms, Golightly," cried
Mr. Pokyr, leading the way across the passage from
his own rooms to those of his friend.
" Hallo ! — all in the dark here ? No, the fire's
not quite out. We'll make it go. Shout for Sneek.
Where is your colza oil kept X We'll put some on
the fire."
" In the gyp-room, I think," said our hero, mildly.
" Pass the lamp, then ; let us have some out of
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
that. Hal-lo ! who's this \ " Mr. Pokyr said, as he
stumbled over ]Mr. Golightly's easy chair. " Good
gad ! it's old mother Cribb asleep; or Damme !
why, she's as tight as a drum ! Now, old lady," he
said, as he lifted Mrs. Cribb up in the chair, and set
her on jNIr. Samuel's dining-table — " now, old lady
— come, wake up, and tell us all about it."
"^^^m'Mf^^
204 '^^^^ Cambridge Freshman; or,
CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH OUR HERO MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE
OF THE REVEREND PORSON PLUNKETT, M.A.
ft N our last chapter we left that respectable
old personage, Mrs. Elizabeth Cribb, ele-
vated in several respects : the athletic Mr.
Pokyr having placed her and Mr. Golightly's leather-
covered easy chair, in which she was quietly taking
a snooze, on the table together. Mr. Calipee, making
a great effort to be of service, produced some wax
vestas from his waistcoat pocket ; and striking one
on the heel of his boot successfully, lighted the four
candles on Mr. Golightly's mantelpiece, while Mr.
Blaydes poured the contents of our hero's moderator
lamp on the smouldering embers of his fire, and,
by dint of giving it a few vigorous and well-directed
pokes, soon produced a blaze. Both fire and lights
being thus satisfactorily procured at the same mo-
ment, the whole party of gentlemen gathered round
the table, with the twofold intention of more mi-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 205
nutely scrutinizing Mrs. Cribb's appearance than
had been possible in the dark, and also of hearing
what reply she would make to Mr. Pokyr's request
that she would " wake up, and tell them all about
it." Our hero, who was as yet unfamiliar with the
habits of bedmakers and the easy freedom of their
ways, was considerably astonished at finding Mrs.
Cribb in such a state ; and, judging from the way
he stared at her, seemed hardly able to believe the
evidence of his senses. The other gentlemen were
amused, and not by any means amazed; for they had
on several previous occasions, during their acade-
mical career, seen ]\Irs. Cribb in a condition very
similar to the one in which she presented herself on
the present occasion.
" I expect some day she will set the place on fire,
and herself too," sagely observed Mr. Blaydes.
" Spontaneous combustion much more likely,"
suggested Mr. Chutney.
" She would burn like a brandy cask," said
Blaydes.
" It is really wonderful, when we think of it,"
remarked Mr. Calipee, in his lugubrious way, " that
there never are any fires in the colleges. I have
many things I should not like to lose — and they are
not insured," he added.
" Come, Cribb, old lady," cried Mr. Pokyr, push-
206 TAe Cmnbridge Freshman; or, '^
ing the chair forward and pulling it back briskly a
few times, " wake up — wake up ! "
And he gave Mr. Golightly's chair a persistent
wriggle that was calculated to leave its mark on his
mahogany as long as it was a table.
" 'Ere's the tooter a-comin','' shouted Mr. Blaydes,
imitating the bedmaker's accents. " The old girl
is frightened to death at Bloke."
''Here's Bloke — Bl-oke!" cried the whole of the
party in chorus.
Whether the name of the tutor, of whom she
stood in awe, had a magic influence upon her sleepy
ears, or whether the continued wriggling at the
chair kept up by Mr. Pokyr made re230se under
the circumstances impossible, is uncertain; but
at this juncture of affairs, Mrs. Cribb slowly
opened first one eye and then the other, at
the same time rubbing both with her grimy
knuckles.
"Sneek — John Sneek," she murmured, softly,
relapsing into unconsciousness again.
" Two tumblers and an empty bottle," said Mr.
Pokyr. "They have both been at your brandy, my
boy."
And he shook the chair more vigorously than
before. Again Mrs. Cribb unclosed her eyelids in
a dreamy way.
Mefjtoirs of Mr. Golightty. 207
" Where-ram I ? " she inquired, vacantly staring
about her.
"You're all right," replied several of her auditors.
" Righ-as-a-trivet. I'm-all-right — eveninT'
"wake up, old lady."
"Oh, yes — you are out for the evening, Cribb.
There's no mistake about that, I think."
The worthy old lady evidently caught at the
2o8 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
idea, and having a voice much in request as a
means of enlivening the bedmakers' tea parties
and soirees, burst out into melody, leaning on the
elbow of the chair for support —
"I'm a Chickaleary Cove, with my one, two, three."
Here, in an effort to mark time with her foot,
she broke down, and collapsed again into the chair.
" Not a doubt about it," said Mr. Pokyr.
This musical attempt of Mrs. Cribb's was re-
ceived with loud cries of " Sing !" and " Encore I"
In the midst of the noise, Mr. Sneek stuck in his
honest physiognomy at the door.
'■De-ar me!" he observed, pulling a suitably
long face at the spectacle his coadjutor in the work
of the staircase presented. " Now, what's she bin
a-doin' of? Forgettin' herself again, I see. Better
let me take care of her, Mr. Pokyr, sir; though
there'll never — though I say it myself — be no
proper bedmaker on this staircase till my poor wife
has Cribb's place — that there won't, gen'lmen.
What a state she have been and made herself in!"
Mrs. Cribb having again become so drowsy that
it was tolerably evident there w^as no more fun to
be got out of her, Mr. Pokyr lifted her down again
in the chair, and she was handed over to Mr.
Sneek's care ; who, assisted by her husband — who
Memoirs of Mr. GoligJitly. 209
had come to look for her — conducted her to her
abode, Xo. 7, St. Mary 's-row, just outside the col-
lege gates.
" Such," said Mr. Pokyr, giving our hero one of
those hearty pats on the shoulder for which he is
justly famous — " such, my dear Golightly, are bed-
makers."
" Are they never discharged on account of — "
Mr. Samuel began.
" "Well, I don't think such a crime, for instance,
as — well, say manslaughter — would be looked over;
but anything short of that they may do, and still
enjoy their places for life, and — "
"Eetire on a pension afterwards," interposed Mr.
Jamaica Blaydes,
" I think, Golightly, if I were you," said Mr.
Calipee, in an energetic manner, " I should fumi-
gate that arm-chair before I sat down in it again.
I have some pastiles and also toilet vinegar in my
rooms, which are at your service."
'• Thank you," said Mr. Samuel, gratefully.
" Which had I better use, do you think V
"Both," said Mr. Pokyr; "for, to my certain
knowledge, Cribb never washes her gown more
than once a-term."
" And that makes three times a-year, you know,"'
said Blaydes.
2 10 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" I am rather hungry after all this/' said Mr.
Calipee. *' There is some supper in my rooms, I
believe."
The invitation of the Indian gentleman was
cheerfully accepted by all the party; and before
long they were joined by The O'Higgins, our hero's
cousin George, and some others of their acquaint-
ance. A very pleasant evening was spent, of which
Mr. Samuel Golightly and Mr. Chutney were very
properly made the heroes, considering the bold
front they had both shown in the early part of the
day. Their healths were drunk several times, in
bPinpers, before the evening was over.
Onr hero was aroused next morning by Mr.
Sneek's knocks at his bed-room door.
" Ha'-past nine, sir," said Mr. Sneek.
" Come in, Sneek," said his master, who did not
feel quite himself; but whether this arose from the
excitement consequent on fighting a duel, or from
events subsequent to his engagement with Mr.
Chutney, we are unable to stats,
" Give me some soda-water, Sneek," said Mr.
Samuel
" B'ilers require water quite nat'ral," the gyp
observed to himself, as he fetched the effervescent
and reviving beverage from the gyp-room.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 211
*' Ha'-past nine, sir ! " lie said, as he handed Mr.
Samuel the tumbler. " I'll see about breakfast."
" All right, Sneek," said our hero, as he swal-
lowed the bubbling and fizzing soda. " All right.
I am going to get up at once."
" Now," said Mr. Golightly to himself, when the
gyp had taken his departure, meditatively contem-
plating his plump fingers, " I know I slept in my
ring for something, but what it was I really can-
not remember."
All of a sudden, the truth flashed upon his mind.
He had to attend the classical lecture of the Reve-
rend Mr. Plunkett at ten o'clock. He hastily took
his tub, dressed ; and, just as Sneek appeared with
breakfast from the kitchens, our hero, in his cap
and gown, was ready to sally forth to the lecture.
'* I must go to lecture," said he to the gyp.
" There is the clock striking."
*' Take a cup of cawfee fust, sir, do," said Mr.
Sneek. "Can't wait] Well, then, I'll keep the
things hot. Mr. Plunkett's lecture, fust staircase,
New Quad, right 'and."
With this remark, Mr. Sneek made a profound
bow to his master, and proceeded to place the
coffee-pot and poached eggs in the fender,
Mr. Samuel, feeling rather feverish and consider-
ably nervous, took his seat at the table with several
p 2
212 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
others of the Freshmen of his year, who, hke him-
self, were that morning about to make their first
acquaintance with their classical lecturer. Mr.
Golightly had previously attended one or two lec-
tures on mathematical subjects, such as Euclid and
algebra, where he had seen remarkable things done
with a black board and a piece of chalk, and had
been considerably mystified, and, it must be con-
fessed, not in the least enlightened thereby. It
had been the opinion of the Rector of Oakingham
that his son's genius tended rather towards mathe-
matics than classics ; and at home, with Mr. Mor-
gan to demonstrate the props of Euclid by cutting
them out in note paper, and carefully piecing them
together step by step, they were pleasant things
enough; and Mr. Samuel undoubtedly entered the
University with clear notions of what an angle was.
But this early knowledge the college lecturer soon
dispelled; and our hero was reluctantly compelled
to behave with regard to props in general as one
does with riddles — give them up. Mr. Samuel
Golightly's experiences of mathematical lectures
were a confused and ill-digested mixture of black
boards, a lump of chalk — which was always falling
on the floor — and a gentleman in spectacles, with a
duster in his hand — anything but the "draughts of
spring water " spoken of by the author of " Day
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly
Dreams of a Schoolmaster," who found out that
" the first lessons in geometry and algebra " he re
ceived at college "were as draughts of spring water
to lips dry with heat and cracked with sand."
Though Mr. Samuel Golightly 's lips, on the
occasion of his first visit to Mr. Plunkett's rooms,
were not literally " cracked with sand," they were,
in sober truth, very dry; and when the reverend
lecturer made his appearance, with unmistakable
signs of eggs for breakfast on his face, our hero felt
absolutely unwell. He had a new ordeal to go
through ; and having devoted the evening before
to conviviality, had not read the cliapter previously.
" What is your n-name, sir \ " asked Mr. Person
Plunkett, who, like Mr. Samuel, stammered slightly.
" Go-go-golightly," said our hero, nervously.
" Have I n-not had you here bef-fore, sir \ "
" N-no, sir."
*' The n-name of Golightly is in my class-book.
What are your initials ? "
"S-S-S. A., sir," replied Mr. Samuel.
" Have you three names beginning with S "? "
asked the lecturer, hardly certain that our hero
was not an impertinent and hardened Freshman,
trying to take him off for the amusement of the
class.
" N-no, sir," said our hero, much confused by the
214 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
very short and angry manner of Mr. Porson Plun-
kett. " I st-st-ammer."
" I p-perceive you do," was the reply. " Now,
Mr. Smith, begin."
Mr. Smith, who was quite a swell classic, rattled
off a sentence or two fluently enough. Some of
the gentlemen present looked at their books, the
while evidently calculating the " bit " that it would
come to their turn to construe. Others looked
about them quite unconcernedly, being well up in
the subject; and one melancholy-looking individual
took out his pocket-knife, and began to make little
paper boxes, of the kind known as fly-traps, with
'great energy, crushing them up and throwing them
under the table as fast as he made them — a pas-
time he pursued with a great display of persever-
ance and energy during the whole time the lecture
lasted. Mr. Golightly must be placed among the
number first mentioned. With his usual sagacity,
he had hit upon his own particular " bit " to a
nicety. When his turn came, looking at him with
unpleasant directness, the Reverend Porson Plun-
kett said —
" Mr. Golightly."
We may mention that the subject of their studies
was the Avork of the famous Latin historian. Our
classical readers will, doubtless, at once recognize
Me^noirs of Mr. Golightly. 215
the following well-known passage, which Mr. Go-
lightly read; and non-classical readers will not be
much the worse off if they do not, as we propose
to append a rendering of the same in the vulgar
tongue : —
'"Imperator ater tigris duxit copias suas in Cam-
pum Martium et aggerem — ' "
" 'Aggerem ' — if you please. Thank you," said
the lecturer, tartly.
Blushing slightly as he corrected himself, Mr.
Samuel went on —
"' — Aggerem viae tres cohortes obtinuerunt.'"
Reading the Latin — with the exception of the
quantities, at w^hich he was not very good — w^as, of
course, mere child's play to Mr. Golightly. Putting
the English to it was the difficulty that next arose.
Our hero proceeded to construe ; a query first oc-
curring to his mind — " Did it begin with the first
word?" However, he took "Imperator" first, and
risked the consequences.
" ' Imperator — ' "
"Welir'
"'The Emperor,'" said Mr. Samuel, boldly
for him. He did not mean it, but he spoke his
thoughts aloud — " What comes next \ "
The gentleman near him, who was quite a swell,,
answered him in a whisper, " ' ater tigris.'
5 »
2i6 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
"'Ater tigris.'"
There was an iiwkward pause on the part of our
hero. He felt it would not do to call the Em-
peror a black tiger exactly. There was a slight
titter all round the table, and Mr. Porson Plunkett
said —
" Well ! " accompanying that monosyllable with
an expressive smile.
" 'The buttons in black,' " whispered our hero's
prompter; and "'Buttons in black,'" Mr. Go-
lightly said.
A general laugh followed, in which our hero
joined himself.
" Jokes are quite out of place here, sir! " said the
lecturer, who was very fond of making them him-
self when opportunities arose, but very angry with
anybody else who did so; therein resembling, in a
smaller degree, several eminent judges on the bench
at the present time.
" Mr. Popham," said Mr. Plunkett, "will you go
onr'
Mr. Popham was a singularly stupid-looking
young man who sat near Mr. Samuel, and appa-
rently shared his ignorance of the author they
were reading, and also his terror of classical lec-
turers in general.
'The Emperor,'" proceeded Mr. Popham, timidly
((
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
217
— feeling that to be the only safe spot in the ground
he had to traverse.
" 'Ater tigris,"' said Mr. Porson Pkmkett.
" 'A black tiger,' " ejaculated Mr. Popham, quite
THE REVEREND PORSON PLUNKETT S LECTURE.
defiantly, driven to bay, and heartily wishing the
Emperor was down the tiger's throat.
" Well," observed Mr. Plunkett, " let us say ' a
2i8 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
fierce tiger ;' or, as we might render it in English,
' a very tiger.' "
" ' Duxit copias snas ' — ' led his forces,' " con-
tinued poor Mr. Popham, all in a breath ; and
then, after a momentary pause, he went on timidly,
feeling he was on treacherous ground again, " ' In
Campum Martium — ' "
" Yes — that is here. You have the same read-
ing that we have, I suppose \ "
" ' In Campum Martium,' " repeated Mr. Popham
slowly, and in a terrible fright at the frowns of
Mr. Porson Plunkett and the smiles of his fellow
undergraduates.
"Well — we got as far as that before, you
know."
" Well," continued Mr. Popham, drawing a long
breath of relief, "'against the Field Marshal.' "
This reading by the light of nature was the
signal for quite a roar.
" Hush, gentlemen, please ! " said Mr. Plunkett.
" Will you, Mr. Golightly, complete the translation
of the sentence 1 "
Thus called upon, Mr. Samuel Adolphus was
compelled to proceed, which he did as follows : —
" 'Et aggerem viae tres cohortes obtinuerunt.'"
"You need not have troubled to read us the
Latin again."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 219
" 'And three cohorts took possession of the public
road/"
" Can't you give ' aggerem ' a more literal mean-
ing ? »
Our hero looked nervously at his book.
" Mr. Popham \ "
" ' Public road,'" said Mr. Popham.
"We have had '• 'puhlic'' before. Can you not
suggest a more literal meaning \ "
" ' Public,' " said Mr. Popham, with stupid te-
nacity.
" Dear me, Mr. Popham, you'll ask me in a mo-
ment to believe that ' a-agger domus ' was a public-
house by the side of the road ! "
This smart sally of the Reverend Mr. Plunkett's
was received with a laugh, which he did not see
the least necessity for repressing.
Neither Mr. Golightly nor Mr. Popham was
called upon to construe again that morning ; and
each enjoyed the proceedings all the more for that
reason. After the lecture was over, Mr. Popham
made advances of a friendly kind to our hero. They
were partners in misfortune.
" Will you eat some breakfast in my rooms X "
asked Mr. Samuel, blandly.
" Thank you, I will — I have not breakfasted, as
I was rather late this morning."
2 20 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" I was late too," remarked Mr. Samuel.
And, over their coffee and eggs, both gentlemen
resolved never again to fall into the clutches of the
Reverend Porson Plunkett, M.A., without devoting
half an hour beforehand to looking up the matter
they would be called upon to expound in so public
a manner.
Our hero was giving his friend, Mr. Popham, a
succinct but graphic account of the extraordinary-
condition in which he had found his bedmaker,
Mrs. Cribb, on the occasion of his return from
Newmarket — at the same time carefully suppress-
ing in his narrative any evidence of his reason for
going there — when his gyp put in an appearance
to remove the breakfast things.
" Cribb is not here this mornin', sir," said Mr.
Sneek, bustling about and blowing heavily. " All
the work of the staircase left to me. Now, my
wife — "
" Mrs. Cribb was in a disgraceful state last
night," said Mr. Golightly ; " and I hope I shall
never see her so again."
" I hope not, sir ; but what we heard upset us
both, sir — dooel," said the gyp, knowingly. " De-
lighted to see you safe back, sir, I was. But Betsy
is apt to forget herself, it can't be denied."
" I hope she will never do so again."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
221
" Mine seems a good sort of bedmaker/' observed
Mr. Popham,
" Beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Sneek, with great
"your 'umble servant, gentlemen."
alacrity ; " are you tne new gentleman on letter X
staircase \ "
" I am," said Mr. Popham.
" Bedmaker on that staircase most exemplary
2 22 The Cainbyidge FresJunan; or,
woman — first cousin of my own, sir ! Beg your
pardon, sir,'^ said the gyp to Mr. Samuel ; " rare
job with Cribb last night, gettin' her home. I did
it, though," he added, with an air of merit unques-
tionable.
"Yes," said our hero, not precisely apprehending
the drift of his gyp's remarks on this score.
" Heavy job it was, sir, I assure you : I wouldn't
tell you a story about it. Ha'-past eleven, sir —
buttery's open. Pint of ale wouldn't hurt me — it
wouldn't."
Mr. Samuel at once gave Mr. Sneek the requi-
site order for a quart of buttery beer, on a slip of
paper.
" Thank you, sir. Your 'umble servant, gentle-
men," Mr. Sneek said, as Mr. Golightly and Mr.
Popham sallied forth, leaving Mr. Sneek with
leisure on his hands to convert his order into
" college" — -an opportunity he availed himself of
without one second's delay.
^^
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 223
CHAPTER XIII.
CONTAINS MR. GOLIGHTLy's OWN ACCOUNT OF HIS
INTRODUCTION TO THE MUTTON CUTLET CLUB.
|AME, trumpet-tongued, soon spreads the
report of bold deeds, both in large so-
cieties and small ones. So it was with
Mr. GoHghtly, at St. Mary's ; but whether it arose
from the story of his having fought a duel being
told abroad, or from his connection with so unim-
peachably correct a set as that in which Mr. Pokyr
shone as the leader of ton, our hero soon became
quite a man of mark in his college. For several
days after his encounter with Mr. Chutney, on re-
turning to his rooms of an afternoon or coining in
from lecture in a morning, Mr. Samuel was wont
to find the letter-box, if his outer door was sported,
or his table, if it was open, covered by cards left
for him by gentlemen, not only of his own stand-
ing in the University, but of the years above him.
These marks of consideration were left upon him,
2 24 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
not only by gentlemen wlio — from their proposing
to themselves no more serious affair in their stay at
the University than consisted in getting over the
various obstacles between them and a " poll " de-
gree — might be supposed to have plenty of lei-
sure on their hands, but also among his callers
were men of quite a different class. Mr. Eustace
Jones, the future senior wrangler, dropped quietly
downstairs from his calculus and green tea, and,
timidly knocking at our hero's door, fidgeted
nervously on the extreme edge of a cane-bottomed
chair for precisely five minutes by his own watch,
and then ran up to his own rooms to make up, as
fast as possible, for the time he had thus sacrificed
to the demands of politeness. Mr. Golightly ex-
pressed himself much pleased with the opportunity
thus afforded him of making the acquaintance of
so distinguished a mathematician. He could not,
however, as he contemplated the pale face, and
nervous, absent manner of his visitor, help think-
ing that he should not care particularly to count
this extraordinary genius among his intimate ac-
quaintance.
A reading man of another stamp was the Lord
Ernest Beauhoo, who "ground like a fiend," as
Mr. Pokyr, who was a distant cousin of Lord
Ernest's, expressed it.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 225
His lordship, a solemn young prig, of rather
limited classical attainments, was working away at
Plato, at Cambridge, previous to enlightening his
country from the floor of the House of Commons.
A nice little pocket borough, appendant to the
family of Beauhoo, awaited his lordship's coming
of age: a Cabinet minister filling the dignified
position of warming-pan in the borough of Calm,
pending the approaching majority of Lord Ernest
Beauhoo. And then, oh, faithful electors of Calm !
— blue fire and Beauhoo for ever! However,
when this legislator in embryo called upon Mr.
Samuel Golightly, he found that gentleman out;
so he slipped the Beauhoo pasteboard, with the
Beauhoo crest on it, into the letter in the sported
door.
On the occasion of the first influx into his rooms
of a heavy batch of cards, our hero, having placed
them carefully on his table, proceeded to call upon
his cousin, Mr. George, and asked him to explain
the meaning of this suddenly revealed desire of
everybody in the college to make his acquaintance.
"Well," said Mr. George, in reply to the query
of Mr. Samuel, " it is the usual thing here — only
you have more men of the years above you on the
list of your callers than is common. You ought
to feel honoured, I am sure."
a
226 Tlie Cambridge Freshman ; or,
" I do," said Mr. Samuel, with some show of
proper gratitude. " My Fa — "
"Well, never mind Uncle Sam just now," pro-
tested Mr. George, who did not reverence the
oracle of the parsonage so much as his father, the
Squire, did.
" My Fa," proceeded Mr. Samuel, however, with
becoming filial veneration, nothing daunted, and
determined to finish his observation, "wishes me
to make the acquaintance of as large a number of
men of my own age as possible, while I am here.
As I have often heard him say, ' The proper study
for mankind is man ' — "
"Original and apropos," interrupted Mr. George.
" And," continued our hero, " I am willing to do
so, since these gentleman seek my acquaintance."
" Of course you are. What did you come here
for % Enjoy the place as much as you can."
" What am I to do," asked Mr. Samuel.
" You must return their calls. If they are out,
leave a pasteboard. If they are in, stay five mi-
nutes, and don't refuse a glass of sherry. If you
don't know where they keep, ask Sneek to take
you round to their rooms — which he will do for a
trifling consideration and kind treatment."
Our hero laughed at his cousin's advice, and de-
termined to follow it out to the letter, with the
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 227
single exception of not retaining the services of
Mr. Sneek for the occasion.
"Come up to Pokyr's," said Mr. George, ab-
ruptly.
" Right," said Mr. Samuel, who was fast rubbing
off his country rust, and acquiring the manners of
his friends.
"COME in," cried the voice of Mr. Pokyr, in
reply to Mr. George's knock — with a long-drawn
out and emphatic "come:" — the tone of an injured
man, who, having got out his books for an hour's
grind, is disagreeably surprised to find five or six
friends have chosen that particular hour for a call.
Mr. Pokyr's dictionaries were open on his table;
but he was not turning over their pages, pregnant
with meaning, but standing with his back to the
fire, talking to Mr. Calipee, Mr. Fitzfoodel, and
several other gentlemen, who were enjoying his so-
ciety and his cigars at the same time.
" Hallo! at work]" said Mr. George.
" I hope we are not disturbing you," said Mr.
Samuel.
" Ah ! about time I did work, I think, with the
' Little Go ' before me, and not a word about the
subjects within the range of my knowledge at pre-
sent. But you do not disturb me exactly. Calipee
began that an hour ago ; and when once he is well
Q 2
228 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
seated in my easy chair, he does not again move in
a hurry — do you, Nigger *? "
" He is going out for a ride with us," said the
Nigger, by way of explanation.
"I beg to inform Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly
of his election as a member of the Mutton Cutlet
Club," said Mr. Pokyr, with due form.
"Oh!" said our hero, smiling with complete sa-
tisfaction. " Thank you."
" Our meetings are Saturday nights — our club-
room is at the Green Dragon. This is Saturday,
and I will therefore take you with me, introduce
you to the club, administer the usual oaths, and
make a Mutton Cutlet of you," said Mr. Pokyr.
" I shall be ready," said Mr. Samuel.
" I hear that they are going to put up Smith,"
said Mr. Calipee.
" And who is Smith?" asked Mr. Calipee.
" Smith is legion!" said Mr. George.
" Smith is not a bad sort of a fellow," said Mr.
Pokyr. " Comes from our county — rides well, and
good cattle, with the Loamshire hounds."
'* Let us look him out," said one of Mr. Pokyr's
friends, strolling up to his host's bookcase, and
taking down Burke.
" Need not trouble to look there," said Mr. Fitz-
foodel ; '' find it all — whole affair of family history
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 229
— in Smiles's 'Self-Help.' Got Smiles, Pokyr?
Save a deal of trouble — assure you."
" I do not possess a copy of the work in ques-
tion," replied Mr. Pokyr.
" I hope he won't get elected. I hate all those
fellows — they spoil the club," said Fitzfoodel, plain-
tively.
" Well, he'll have my vote," said Pokyr, who
was president of this aristocratic and exclusive club.
"And mine," said Mr. George. "I like a fel-
low who rides well, and is a good sort of fellow be-
sides."
" I hate parvenus," exclaimed Mr. Fitzfoodel,
representing the landed interest.
" By the bye," said Mr. Pokyr, giving our hero a
tap on the shoulder, " you must join the Drag, Go-
lightly."
" The Drag X " said Mr. Samuel.
" Hounds, herrings, and aniseed — you know,"
said his friend, imitating the action of a jockey.
" But I don't ride very well," said our hero, apolo-
getically.
" You ride well enough. You must have a quiet
horse from Spratt's, and you'll do as well as the best
of us."
" Must join," said everybody.
Our hero, with characteristic amiability, cot^-
230 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
sented to become a contributing member to the
University of Cambridge Drag Hunt.
" Somebody coming upstairs. Another visitor,
Pokyr," said Calipee.
" A dun," said Mr. Pokyr, as a feeble single
knock fell on their ears. " Let him knock again,"
he said, putting a cap on one of his pistols. " I'm
ready for him."
"Pray, don't shoot!" said Mr. Samuel.
" They deserve it."
As he spoke, the door opened. In walked Mr.
Pokyr's laundress. Bang went the pistol.
" Ha ! you've just escaped it," he cried, pointing
to a hole in the ceiling, which truth compels us to
state was there before.
" You'll frighten me to death some day, sir,
please, sir," said the laundress.
" You have had a lucky escape," said Mr. Pokyr,
tossing his laundress a shilling.
" Good morning, sir, and thank you, sir," replied
that official, evidently not reluctant to be shot at
again, then or another day.
" The horses is at the gate, sir," said Mr. Pokyr's
man.
Accordingly, Mr. George Golightly went for a ride
with his friends, while our hero spent the afternoon
in returning some of the calls he had on his list.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 231
The evening came, and with it his introduction
to the Mutton Cutlet Club : an event which, shortly
after its occurrence, our hero described in a letter
to his father. Prudently reserving any account he
might have to give of his encounter with Mr. Chut-
ney for a verbal relation, in case he found his cousin,
Mr. George, had mentioned it to any members of
his family, Mr. Samuel confined himself on the
present occasion to an account of his first dinner
with the club, at the Green Dragon. After pre-
mising that he was personally in a state of perfect
salubriousness, and mentioning some other minor
topics, Mr. Samuel said : —
"On Saturday last, I was introduced by Mr.
Pokyr to the Mutton Cutlet Club, having previ
ously been elected a member, and paid my entrance
fees and yearly subscription. I had been led by
Mr. Pokyr to suppose that, notwithstanding its
curious title, the Mutton Cutlet Club was an asso-
ciation of gentlemen of the University for literary
discussion, the reading of papers, and for debates
thereupon. But on entering the club room — which
is the large room at the Green Dragon, an inn with
the name of which, at all events, you are acquainted
— I found a long table laid for dinner, some sixteen
or twenty covers being laid. However, before din-
232 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
ner began, the secretary of the club produced a
silver gridiron, on which I was sworn, in a sort of
humorous oath, to do many things, of which these
MR. GOTJGHTLY IS MADE A MEMBER OF THE MUTTON
CUTLET CLUB.
are some of those I recollect — ' Never to drink beer
if I could get claret, unless I liked beer better ; '
' Never to drink claret when I could get port un-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
233
less I liked claret better;' 'Never to dine anywhere
except at the table of the Mutton Cutlet Club on a
Saturday night, unless I had a better place to go
to ; ' ' To submit to all the fines of the club, as
/ >
MR. GOLIGHTLY SINGS A SONG.
levied by order of the president ; ' 'To sing a song
when called en or pay the fine;' and many like
promises. Dinner being served, I sat near jMr.
234- The Carjibridge FresJmian ; or,
Pokyr, who occupied the chair. We had soup first;
and there is a legend in the club, which is of an-
cient standing, that every dish contains mutton in
some form ; but I did not detect it in the soup.
We had, afterwards, mutton cutlets in various ways
— en papillotes I chose, recollecting those we used
to have in Paris — and other things followed in due
course. The wine was very good, and after dinner
the fun became very general. Cigars were placed
on the table ; and the room, though large, was soon
filled with smoke, as everybody seemed to smoke.
All the members of the club sing, and I was much
alarmed when it came to my turn to sing a song, as
I only know the one I once sang when we were
playing forfeits last Christmas at the Hall, and
Arabella imposed a song on me. The words are
so simple, that a great deal depends on the way it
is sung. I think I sang it well, as it w^as received
with much applause; and being encored, I was
obliged to sing it again. It is —
' Did you ever, ever, ever see a Whale?
Did you ever, ever, ever see a Whale?
Did you ever, ever, ever see a Whale?
No, I never, never, never —
No, I never, never, never saw a Whale;
But I've often, often, often —
But I've often, often, often seen a Cow!'
Which is quite true. The words of all the verses
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 235
are just the same. I sang a great many, I know
Pokyr said it was a capital song — the melody being
very pretty, and the words simple yet interesting.
Afterwards, to finish up with, we had a Dutch
chorus. Everybody sang a verse of some different
song, as a solo. This went round the table ; and
at last the chorus was made by all singing together
their own verses to their own tunes. The effect
was beyond description. I never heard such an
unearthly noise in my life. Pokyr says they al-
ways * finish up with a row.*
"Altogether, I like the Cutlet Club very much."
With these interesting details of the doings at
the club, and his very kind wishes to all the mem-
bers of the family, our hero closed his second epistle
from the University to his father at Oakingham-
cum-Pokeington.
Mrs. Cribb, on her reotoration to health, appeared
for several days in her Sunday attire, by way of re-
habilitating her general character, which might be
supposed to have suffered somewhat from her recent
indisposition.
She appeared, in the portrait on page 52, in the
Sunday dress referred to. The engraving is faith-
fully copied from her carte de visite, which she is in
236 The Caindridoe Fres/iMun; or,
the habit of presenting to her masters when they
leave college, and in return for Avhich she will take
kindly to a " tip." She gave one to Mr. Golightly
on the occasion of his leaving St. Mary's, observ-
ing—
"And, sir, when I were at the photographer's,
and see all them pillars and statues and fountains,
I said to the young man as was going to take it —
' Young man, bein' a servant, could I be accommo-
dated with a brush to 'old in my 'ands to show the
samel"
Which accounts for the clothes brush to be seen
in the left hand of Mrs. Cribb, in the faithful like-
ness which was previously given to our readers.
Memoh^s of Mr. Golightly. 237
CHAPTER XIV.
SHOWS HOW POOR LITTLE MR. POPHAM HAS A NAR-
ROW ESCAPE OF BEING EATEN OF DOGS ; AND
HOW HIS FRIEND, MR. SAMUEL GOLIGHTLY, COMES
BOLDLY TO THE RESCUE.
jURSUANT to that good resolution which
was announced in a previous chapter, both
Mr. Popham and our hero — who were now
the best of friends, and had several times break-
fasted together, besides giving each other invita-
tions for the coming vacation — attended Mr. Person
Plunkett's classical lectures with undeviating punc-
tuality. This of itself was a step towards softening
the heart of any lecturer; but, besides this, the two
gentlemen regularly conned over tlie subject-matter
of an evening, sitting together and giving each other
a helping hand — which, certainly, both wanted;
and it would be a difficult point to decide which
of the two required it the more.
" Popham," said Mr. Golightly, on one of these
238 The Cambridge Fres/wian; or,
occasions, as they sat in our hero's rooms, expending
the midnight oil over their Livy, taking occasional
sips of black coffee — at making which, in a patent
percolator, Mr. Samuel had become, with a little
practice, quite a proficient — by way of refreshment
for the inner man, and dipping into the abstruse
mysteries contained in the pages of White and E,id-
dell, and Dr. Smith's grammar.
" Popham."
*' Golightly," said Mr. Popham, in reply, looking
up from the dictionary in which he had for ten mi-
nutes past been digging desperately for a word
which, oddly enough, " stumped " them both.
" Can't you find it? " said our hero, forgetting for
the moment what he had been about to say, as he
contemplated the puzzled and almost despairing
look on the face of his friend and fellow-student.
" Dashed if I can — it's not here," ejaculated Mr.
Popham.
"Are you sure"? Have you looked at all the
places % "
" Perfectly certain," answered Mr. Popham, tak-
ing a voluminous gulp of the black coffee at his
side.
" Then we must give it up," said Mr. Samuel,
with that philosophic resignation to the force of cir-
cumstances which rarely deserted him.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 239
" But we can't make head or tail of the sentence
without it," said his friend, diving into the repertory
of Riddell and White again.
"One — two — three," exclaimed Mr. Golightly,
giving a deep-drawn sigh of relief, as he ran his
fingers up their sentences of Livy, "four — five —
six." Then, after a pause, " Seven."
"Wein"
" Why, if Smith's there, it must come to him,
and he is certain to know all about it."
" But if he isn't, it's mine, you know ! " replied
Mr. Percy Popham, having, at the same time,
the terror of Person Plunkett, M.A., before his
eyes.
"Ah, but Smith is sure to be there," returned
Mr. Samuel, thereby clinching the argument.
"Well, we will knock off, then, if you like," said
Mr. Popham, giving way before the force of his
friend's reasoning. He closed the dictionary, and
threw himself on the sofa, in an attitude of easy but
inelegant repose.
"After Plunky's lecture," said Mr. Samuel, ac-
tually venturing to speak of that reverend Tartar
by such a disrespectful, though commonly used, ab-
breviation — " after Plunky's lecture, and luncheon,
I'm going out with Pokyr, and George, and Calipee,
and all those fellows."
240 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Naturally enough, Mr. Percy Pophara inquired
" Where \ "
" The Drag," answered our hero, with quite a
knowing nod, at the same time looking proudly at
his friend. " I have joined — subscribed, I mean —
you know." ^
"Where do they meet "?•'';
"At Fulbourne." ^
" Bless me ! " ejaculated Mr. Popham. "Are you
a good rider — a very good rider — Golightly X "
" N-n-not very good, Popham," responded Mr.
Samuel, who always told the truth, even when it
was against him.
" Then you'll be thrown a dozen times at least,
as sure as a gun. They go at an awful pace."
" If I am, Popham," said Mr. Samuel, in a quiet
tone, and with a complacent smile, intended to con-
vey the idea that falling off was out of the ques-
tion — he certainly meant to pick a very quiet horse
— *'if I am, Popham, I certainly sha'n't get on
again."
"After the twelfth time, do you mean?" inquired
Percy, raising his eyebrows incredulously.
"After the first — or second," replied our hero.
" I don't like falls, and, I may add, I don't often
fall ; though at home I often go out with the Loam-
shire."
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 241
But then, Dumple Tvas the quietest of cobs.
" What I was going to propose, Popham," said
Mr. Samuel, when his previous remarks had had
time to make a due impression upon the mind of
his friend — " what I was going to propose was — "
"Welir'
" Why, that you should join us, and come too."
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Percy Popham, abruptly
turning round on the sofa.
"That," observed Mr. Samuel, in a slightly in-
jured tone, " is neither here nor there."
" I'm not a member of the Drag," remarked Mr.
Popham, turning round once more.
" That does not matter in the least ; besides, we
— that is, I — can easily propose you, and so you
can be."
" Urn," returned Mr. Popham, from the couch.
But in that "Um" there was indecision. This
fact was not lost upon our hero.
"I will make another cup of coffee," he said,
operating again with the tea-kettle and the per-
colator.
And the upshot of it all was, that, after two
small cups of black coifee, with just the least little
soupfon of Cognac in them, by way of qualification
at that late — or rather, early— hour, Mr. Percy
Popham announced to Mr. Samuel Golightly his in-
n
242 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
tention of joining that gentleman — " after Flunky's
lecture, and luncheon, and all that" — in an after-
noon's sport with the " Drag."
Luckily for our two friends, Mr. Smith put in an
appearance next morning at the Rev. Person Plun-
kett's lecture; and the identical "bit" with the im-
practicable word in it fell to Mr. Smith's portion,
as our hero had calculated it would; and, to the
astonishment of Mr. Samuel and Mr. Popham, that
gentleman cleared the obstacle without the slightest
difficulty in the world.
" I told you it came from that," whispered our
hero to Mr. Popham, who sat next him, as usual.
" Yes, but you did not know what part it was,"
Mr. Popham wrote on a slip of paper, and placed it
on Mr. Samuel's open book.
After the lecture was satisfactorily disposed of,
our friends hurried off to exchange their academical
robes for the costume of the chase.
"Hallo — whoo-hoo-hoo-whoop ! " cried Mr. Po-
kyr, as he somewhat unceremoniously entered our
hero's bed-room, and there discovered Mr. Samuel,
endued in a new pepper-and-salt coloured suit, all
but the gaiters, over buttoning which he was get-
ting very red in the face.
" Come — come along ; we're waiting lunch for
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 243
you. You and the Nigger have a way of bemg
always behindhand."
"I shall be ready in a minute," replied IVIr.
Samuel, looking up from the fatiguing occupation
of buttoning the white pearl buttons of his gaiters
over his manly calves.
" Don't you go in ' persuaders ' — spurs, you
know?" Mr. Pokyr explained, when he perceived
Mr. Golightly's ignorance of the meaning of the
term.
" Never wore spurs in my life," said Mr. Samuel.
" Well — perhaps you are better without 'em."
" I think it is cruel. I would not spur Dumple
— that is, my horse at home; then why should I
spur another horse, merely because it is hired?
My Fa has often observed, when we were driving
into Fuddleton, 'the merciful man has a care for
his beast,' and told the coachman not to hurry."
" Do your carriage horses all the good in the
world to hurry them a bit, and get some of the fat
off them. AVell, come along."
By this time Mr. Samuel's equipment was com-
plete, and he accompanied Mr. Pokyr to his rooms,
where his hospitable table was spread with a sub-
stantial luncheon, to which several members of
the college, including our friend Mr. Popham, sat
aown; while Mr. Pokyr's man, assisted by the
E 2
244 ^'^^ Cambridge Freshman ; or,
obliging Sneek, did his best to minister to their
wants, carefully filling their glasses as often as oc-
casion required.
After luncheon, Mr. Popham and our hero ac-
companied Mr. Pokyr to Spratt's stable, where the
two noble steeds owned by the last-named gentle-
man stood eating their heads off at livery. They
were met in the yard by Spratt himself — a wiry
little man, whose principal distinguishing features
were what are termed, I believe, a cock-eye and a
game leg. Touching his hat to Mr. Pokyr with
due respect, Spratt observed —
" The Whigs have had another thrashing, sir."
For Spratt was a very high Tory horse-dealer ;
and liked, above all things, to combine politics with
business.
"Never mind the Whigs, Spratt," replied Mr.
Pokyr.
It is, of course, needless to mention that the
Avhole of the Shovelle family, from which Mr.
Pokyr sprang, are, and always have been, staunch
Conservatives.
** They'll come to ruin without us."
"Ha! ha! ha! sir. True! The house divided
against — " began the livery stable keeper.
" Drop houses, Spratt," said Mr. Pokyr, inter-
rupting him. " Horses we have come about."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 245
" Your gray hoss has been ready this half-hour,
Mr. Pokyr."
" These gentlemen want a couple of ' tits.'"
*' Where are they for — Newmarket "?" asked the
wary proprietor. For although old Hobson has
long enough been dead, and the very Conduit de-
signed to keep the good Carrier's memory green
has been stuck away in an out-of-the-way place,
still there is something of the principle of that
Choice to which the old Cambridge horse-keeper
gave a name yet hanging about Cambridge stable-
yards.
In reply to Spratt's query, Mr. Samuel ingenu-
ously replied —
" Out with the Drag."
" Then I've got two fust-raters — ^just the very
thing, Mr. Pokyr. I'm glad I kep' 'em in. These
gents being friends of yours, I should like to turn
'em out in Spratt's best style. I could have let
them two bosses twice over ; but somehow I kep'
'em back. Williim," shouted Spratt, at the top of
his voice, at the same time giving a long, shrill
whistle.
A head was poked out over a half-door at the
top of the yard.
" Put the saddle and bridle on Prince and the
gray mare."
246 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
In a few seconds, *' Williim," Spratt's head man,
led out Prince — a great, lumbering, brown horse,
apparently about a dozen years old, very groggy on
his legs all round, and shabby and charger-like
about the tail ; but groomed up, well fed, and made
to look his best. And at the same time, another
lad brought out the gray mare. A very skittish-
looking lady she was, with a nasty way of laying
back her ears, and a restless, fidgety manner of
carrying herself; besides going very "dotty" on
her near fore-leg — caused by standing so long
doing nothing in the stable, her owner said.
" There ! " said Spratt, sticking his Scotch cap on
one side, and complacently scratching his head, as
he looked on the Prince. " There's a hoss ! He's
a 'unter — that's what lie is."
He had been in his youth, and loved the fun as
well as any M. F. H. in England, as Mr. Golightly
discovered to his cost.
"Groggy," said Mr. Pokyr, stepping up to his
own animal.
" Jumps like a kitten. I'm told he clears a
five-barred gate just as easy as he hops over one
rail."
" That heel's cracked — by jingo ! " said Mr.
Pokyr,
*' Best hoss I've got — a regular seasoned 'unter.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 247
I never let him out 'ackney — do I, Williim?" with
a wink.
" Never dew such a thing," of course was
Williim's reply.
" Are they quiet % " asked Mr. Golightly. " I
don't like going very fast myself. I like a quiet
horse."
" So do I — quiet," chimed in Mr. Percy Pop-
ham.
" They're more lambs nor hosses, both of them
— aint they, Williim % "
The ostler nodded assent.
The gray mare expressed her denial of this state-
ment by giving one or two slight but uncommonly
vicious-looking kicks.
" I don't — that is — mucli like the gray. Have
you got any others'?" asked Mr. Samuel — feeling
that, after the character Mr. Spratt had given the
pair, he was touching on delicate ground, and both
the stable-keeper and "Williim" might take the
observation in a personal light.
'* They're the only two I've got," said Spratt,
rubbing the end of his nose severely.
*' Fit for the job," WilHam put in.
" Ah ! fit for the job," said the proprietor, catch--
ing at the idea. "They're Drag hosses, they are."
" Well known," said AVilliam.
248 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
" And the only two I've got as aint let," said
Spratt.
So it was Hobson's choice, after all.
By this time, Mr. Pokyr had ridden out at the
gate in the street, and the regular hunters expressed
a strong desire to follow his lead.
But both Mr. Samuel and Mr. Popham im-
mensely preferred Prince of the two animals before
them : at the same time that both were very shy of
the gray mare. An animated discussion followed,
which might have lasted some time but for a sug-
gestion of William's.
"Don' know which to hev? Then torse up,
gemmen, and settle it that way."
" Ha ! " said Spratt.
" I aint got no coin, or I'd do it for both on you
— which 'ould be the fairest way."
Mr. Samuel unbuttoned his coat, raised a shilling
from the depths of his breeches pocket, and placed
it in William's hand. Mr. Percy Popham agreed
to this mode of settling the question.
" Heads, the brown boss — tails, the gray mare,"
said William, spinning the coin.
Our hero and his friend assented with a nod.
" Call, please, gemmen."
The excitement was intense.
" Head," said Mr. Samuel.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 249
" 'Eads it is," said William, touching his hat, and
very respectfully consigning the shilling to the
deep-flapped pocket of his drab waistcoat.
" The brown boss is yours, sir."
Mr. Samuel, not unobservant of the fate of his
shilling, but afl'ecting not to notice it, sprang with
tolerable agility into the saddle, which turned round
as he did so ; while it took two men to hold the
gray lamb before Mr. Popham could effect a land-
ing. All being right at last, the two gentlemen
sallied forth into the street, in the wake of their
friend and leader, Mr. Pokyr ;— farther in the
wake of that gentleman than they cared for, as they
had to trot through more streets than one, and were
conscious of the impression they were creating upon
the public in general: Prince, Mr. Golightly's
animal, breathing high, and displaying symptoms
of turning out a "bucketer;" while, on her part,
Mr. Popham's gray mare edged and sidled along in
a manner calculated to fill her rider with alarm as
to what she might take it into her head to do when
giving way to the excitement of the chase. Nor
was the position of the two gentlemen rendered
more agreeable by the audible remark of a person
in the professional cricketing interest, who hap-
pened to be standing at the corner of Jesus-lane as
they passed by —
250 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Two Freshmen," said he, in an unmistakably
disparaging tone.
Almost immediately afterwards they overtook
Mr. Pokyr, riding in company with several friends.
" How do they go % " asked that gentleman, re-
ferring to Prince and the gray mare.
*'Not badly, at present," replied Mr. Samuel,
wisely cloaking his apprehensions of the future.
" That is all right, then. Will you," said Mr.
Pok}T, smiling benignly upon Mr. Popham, " oblige
us by taking care of this % "
" What is it ? " asked Mr. Popham, as he edged
the gray up to Mr. Pokyr's side, and took from
him a small and strong-smelling newspaper-covered
packet.
" Only a spare bloater, in case we may require
it/' was Mr. Pokyr's answer.
And so they all trotted along towards the meet,
speedily overtaking other parties of horsemen bent
upon the same diversion.
Now, hunting the Drag, as practised at our two
Universities and at other places, is so innocent, so
health-promoting, and in every way so praiseworthy
an amusement, that there seems nothing to be said
to its discredit. A particular, line of ground, not
usually remarkable for its stiff fences, having been
selected, and a red herring, rubbed with aniseed,
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 251
having been carefully dragged over it some time
previously, all is done that can be done ; and the
rest must be left to the hounds. The scent alwavs
lies, a run is a certainty, and you have the advantage
of knowing beforehand pretty exactly where you
are going, if you give your horse his head. Let it
be understood, however, that these remarks are not
written with any view to the disparagement of our
noble sport of fox-hunting. The present writer is
no sneaking vulpecide and hedgerow trapper of the
" red rascal," but religiously believes that all foxes
were providentially brought into this w^orld to be
preserved first, and hunted afterwards.
Having arrived at the meet, and the cap having
been sent round to enable non-members to contri-
bute their quota to the general expenses, no time
was lost about the start ; Mr. Pokyr, Mr. Fitzfoodel,
and several other highflyers showing the way, which
at first lay through a grass field. The Prince, with
our hero on his back, at once bounded off like a
deer, and also roaring so well that he might have
played Lion instead of Snug the Joiner, in Shak-
speare's play — pulling, besides, in a most unplea-
sant way.
" Woa, Princey — woa, my b-boy," exclaimed Mr.
Samuel, in as soothing a tone as circumstances per-
mitted him to employ.
252 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
But Prince wouldn't "woa;" and, on the con.
trary, tore along, soon placing his rider a long way
in the van.
^^
OUR HERO UNFORTUNATELY LOSES HIS STIRRUP AT A
CRITICAL MOMENT.
" Gently there, sir — you'll be on the dogs in a
minute.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 253
But Prince would not listen to reason or obey
the rein.
" Good gracious — what a horse ! " ejaculated Mr.
Golightly, as he gave the Prince his head in a hilly
turnip field. " This must quiet him."
Quite the reverse, however. Prince's roaring did
not stop him in the least ; and, topping the hill, he
galloped down the slope on the other side, at a
fearful pace.
" Woa," cried his rider, faintly — " here's a hedge."
They reached it in an instant, and over it they
went — Mr. Golightly losing his off-stirrup in the
scrimmage. On again — another fence — a tremen-
dous drop, evidently.
" Oh, lor ! " thought Mr. Samuel, " I dislike hunt-
ing the Drag, if this is it."
He landed — but on his horse's neck. The others
were close at his heels. Prince heard them. Across
a lane — another fence ! Mr. Golightly precipitately
deposited on the soft turf on one side — Prince left
standing on the other.
" Look out there," cried Mr. Pokyr, " or we shall
be on the top of you ! "
And our hero just got out of the way in time to
avoid the hoofs of his friend's horse.
During his short but sharp run, Mr. Samuel had
almost forgotten his friend, Mr. Popham, and the
254
The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
gray mare. The question now arose in his mind,
" What has become of Popham \ "
"look out there," cried MR. POKYR.
With characteristic determination, he scrambled
through the hedge; and, luckily, found Prince
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 255
within a hundred yards of the place where he had
parted company with him a minute before.
" Ah ! " — hearing cries from a neighbouring ditch
— "Ah! who is thaf? Somebody hurf? I hope
not," called out Mr. Samuel, ever ready to succour
the distressed.
" Oh— o-h-h-h ! what do they want? What is it?
What is it r
" What is what ? " demanded Mr. Golightly, ra-
pidly advancing to the rescue.
" Oh-h-h, they'll eat me ! I'm sure they mean
it."
" Popham ! " said our hero, recognizing the voice
of his friend, and conscience-smitten that he had
neglected to look for him before — "what is the
matter ] "
" Golightly ! " cried the distressed voice of Percy,
" I shall be eaten, I'm sure I shall."
At that instant the speaker, turning the corner,
came into sight, vigorously pursued by five or six
stragglers from the pack, who kept jumping round
the terrified little man in a horribly anthropopha-
gous fashion. The hounds had followed the scent,
found poor Percy in a ditch, where his gray had
left him, and wanted the spare bloater he carried
in his ppcket.
" Down ! " said Mr. Samuel to the dogs, raising
256 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
his hunting crop, Avhile his friend took refuge be-
hind him — " down ! "
But five damp noses hovered round Mr. Pop-
ham's coat tails, in spite of Mr. Samuel's command-
ing " Downs ! "
"What in the world is if? " asked Mr. Popham,
in despair.
" Why you — you must have something in your
pocket," suggested Mr. Golightly, with consummate
sagacity.
"To — be — sure; the red herring — I forgot it^
Here," said he, throwing it to the dogs, who speedily
took the paper off. " Good dog."
" What do you say," asked Mr. Samuel, who had
never once, in all these trying circumstances, lost
his coolness or presence of mind, and still held tight
to Prince's bridle — " shall we go on again?"
"All right, just as you like," said Mr. Popham,
ashamed to appear in any way deficient in mettle.
" But wherc's the gray ? "
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 257
CHAPTER XV.
OUR HERO PAYS A VISIT TO MR. GALLAGHER's
ESTABLISHMENT AT SKY SCRAPER LODGE.
fE left our hero and his friend, Mr. Popham,
busily engaged. The search for the gray
at last proved successful. She was dis-
covered by Mr. Samuel — who had in the mean time
remounted Prince— peacefully cropping the herb-
age in a thicket in a remote corner of a very large
field, nearly half a mile from the spot where he had
left Mr. Popham.
Mr. Samuel, wisely considering that if he rode
up to the skittish gray mare mounted on his own
horse, she might take it as an encouragement to
proceed farther on her wild career, dismounted, and
tied Prince to a gate at some little distance from
the thicket. Thence advancing stealthily behind a
hedgerow, he seized the broken rein which was
dangling on the ground, and secured IMr. Popham's
spirited steed before she had time to reflect upon
B
25S The Cambridge Freshman; or,
the state of affairs, or offer any objection to being
caught. Having thus strategically compassed his
purpose, Mr. Golightly held the gray mare by the
bridle until his friend, Mr. Popham, succeeded in
reaching the thicket where he stood. Now, how-
ever, the two gentlemen found they had their work
cut out for them; for it was apparent, the instant
Mr. Popham attempted to put his foot into the
stirrup, that mounting the gray mare in Spratt's
stable-yard, with the assistance of William and his
helpers, and getting on in the open field — where
she stood, with fiery eye, panting flank, and dis-
tended nostril — amidst all the excitements of the
chase, with only Mr. Golightly to hold her head,
were two very different things. At length, after
considerable trouble, and the display of great pa-
tience on all sides — except the gray mare's, who
snorted and pawed the ground in a terribly fidgety
manner — Mr. Percy Popham succeeded in taking
his seat again.
"Bravo, Popham ! Now you're all right again,"
said Mr. Samuel, in an encouraging tone, to his
friend, who held his steed in with a very tight rein.
'' Yes— thank you— all right now," replied the
brave Percy— devoutly hoping in the depths of his
manly breast that he might be permitted to con-
. tinue so.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 259
By this time they had reached the gate to which
our hero had fastened his horse. It was the work
of a moment for INIr. Samuel to vault nimbly into
the saddle.
" Tally-ho ! and away ! " cried Mr. Samuel ; and
the two sportsmen proceeded to cross the field — in
pursuit of those who, owing to unforeseen accidents,
had gone before them — at a very pretty canter;
the gray mare bestridden by Mr. Popham laying
back her ears, and doing her best to get her head
down ; while the Prince announced his coming to
all whom it might concern in a solo as loud, if not
quite so melodious, as anything ever executed on
the ophicleide or bassoon.
Their onward career was for a moment inter-
rupted by an obstacle in the shape of some weather-
beaten and rotten-looking railings, which consti-
tuted one of the jumps in the course, and had, to
all appearance, been successfully cleared by every-
body else — ^judging from the facts that the rails
were still standing in their primitive integrity, and
that there was nobody to be seen on the near side
of them.
Having in childhood and youth often beguiled
an hour in the perusal of the late Mr. Seymour's
clever ''Sketches" — which work, by the way, is
always known at the Rectory by the name af the
55 o
26o The Cambridge I'reshman; ci\
"Mad Bull Book," from its celebrated picture of
Walter on the Willow Stump, smiling in conscious
security on the infuriated animal below: a plate
which fascinated our hero at the early age of four
— Mr. Samuel did not forget the advice the chim-
ney sweep on the donkey gave to the gentleman on
the horse — namely, never to jump when there was
a " reg'lar gate " to ride safely through.
Accordingly, he looked around, with a view to
discovering a way into the next field other than
taking the rails. His thoughts were accurately
divined by a rustic who was at work — or play : it
was not easy to say which — on the other side of the
hedge.
" You'll ha' to joomp it,** remarked this smock-
frocked individual, rather viciously, " for there aint
no gate."
Our hero, with becoming dignity, thought fit to
treat this remark with silent contempt ; not choos-
ing to admit that such an idea as that presented by
the possible existence of a gate had ever crossed his
mind. He boldly took his horse back some five
and twenty yards from the fence, and rode him at
the railings like a man. This headlong leap re-
sulted in his taking the greater portion of the
timber with him — attached to the Prince's hind
legs — for some short distance into the next field.
memoirs of Ulr. Go lightly. 261
This left a very wide opening for INIr. Popham, who
was speedily by his side, making, jointly with our
hero, a gallant effort to be in at the finish if pos-
sible yet.
The finish of the course was a haystack, about
four miles from the starting point ; and at the very
time that Mr. Samuel and his friend were toiling
hopelessly in the rear, all the other members of the
club were within sight, at least, of the goal, with
the exception of Mr. Calipee and Mr. Chutney, who
had unfortunately got j)oi-iiided in a close of Kohl
Rabbi they had no business to have got into, and
were making meritorious — but, as far as they had
proceeded, unsuccessful — efforts to get out again.
A few gentlemen had already pulled up their foam-
ing steeds under the hayrick, and among these we
may mention Mr. Pokyr — who had been the first
to arrive — and Jockey Fitzfoodel, who was second
in the race. These bold spirits and expert riders,
who led the van, after giving their horses a few
minutes' breathing time, set off to "lark" it home;
choosing on the homeward journey to perform as-
tounding feats of horsemanship, at a game of cross-
country follow-my-leader, in preference to taking
the turnpike road as the more eligible way into
Cambridge. The fortunes of our hero and his
262 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
friend were less favourable. They kept together
for the length of a few fields in gallant style, alter-
nately stimulating one another to deeds of valour.
Mr. Golightly's horse, however, tiring under the
weight of his rider, began to hang out the white
flag, and require a little gentle assistance from the
whip Mr. Samuel carried ; the gray mare, on the
other hand, was still, in proper sporting parlance,
game as a pebble, and fresh as a daisy, pulling with
all her might and main. In this state of affairs,
Mr. Popham not only involuntarily obtained the
lead, but kept it also against his will. The shades
of the winter evening were fast closing around, and
with them — blown from the direction of the Fens —
came a thick and heavy fog. The two friends were
separated by a field from each other. Mr. Samuel
saw Mr. Popham's back as he popped over a hedge
in fine style, and a few seconds afterwards rode at
it in the same place himself; but here, also, for the
second time, horse and rider came to decided grief.
When our hero succeeded in getting the Prince out
of the ditch into which they had both been preci-
pitated, he discovered, to his alarm, that his horse
was dead lame, that it was becoming dark in an un-
accountable manner, and — a few minutes after —
that he was in a field of vast extent, apparently
without a gate on any of its four long sides.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 263
*' Well," he ejaculated — at the same time blow-
ing on his fingers to warm them, and leading the
Prince after him — " this is really dreadful. Pop-
ham ! " he shouted, hallooing after his friend ; but
there was no answering call — not even an echo, in
that flat country — to cheer and encourage him to
make another eff'ort.
" My word ! " he could not help saying to him-
self many times, as he led his horse along the hedge-
rows, treading down the wet grass — " my word ! I
wish I was safely back. Why doesn't Popham come
to look for me % "
In his circuitous wanderings, to add to his dis-
comfiture and make his confusion worse confounded,
Mr. Samuel unfortunately lost his reckoning, and
forgot on which side he had come into the field; so
that when at last he discovered a way out, through
which he lugged his horse, he was at a loss to know
which way led towards home and Popham.
" Oh, dear ! " he exclaimed, turning up the collar
of his coat, and sticking his hands in his pockets,
*' what a dreadful predicament to be in ! I wonder
which is the way to — anywhere ! "
But morn follows the darkest night, and every
cloud has its silver lining, the poets say ; and so it
proved in our hero's case, for after crossing a
ploughed field — with what were, in his opinion the
264 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
deepest furrows he had ever had to stumble over —
he found himself at a gate which led into a lane.
Words were insufficient to express his delight, so
he was prudently silent.
On and on — for ever, almost, it seemed to Mr.
Golightly. Was there in the world a lane that led
nowhere \ Was there a lane without an end at all ]
This must be it, if such there were.
" It does not get much darker," said Mr. Samuel
to himself; " and I am sure the fog is clearing off
a little."
Suddenly, to his great joy — for he could not see
many yards ahead — he descried the end of the lane;
at the end of the lane an old finger-post, where three
ways met; and, curiously enough, close to the fin-
ger-post stood Mr. Popham and the gray mare.
"Popham!" cried our hero, cheering up at the
sight of his lost companion — all his expressive fea-
tures absolutely beaming with delight.
"Oh ! Golightly !" groaned his friend. " She's as
lame as a cat, and I've had to lead her no end ol
a way."
" Mine is as lame as a cat too," said our hero,
pointing over his shoulder at the Prince — "and
I've had to lead him almost ever since I lost you.
How did we manage to miss each other ] Where
in the world did you get to \ "
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
26:
"Goodness only knows!" sighed Mr. Popliam.
'' I got into a field, and I thought I should never
find ray way out.''
OUR HERO AND HIS FRIEND POPHAM SUDDENLY CONFRONT
EACH OTHER.
" How very curious," said Mr. Samuel, moralizing
on the coincidence. " Why, I got into a field, and
thought I should never be able to get out."
266 TJie Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Query — were we both in the same field?"
"Perhaps/' said Mr. Samuel. "But what is to
be done? Do you know the way?"
" I think so. I think this lane must lead towards
Cambridge."
" Come along, then," cried Mr. Samuel, in his
cheery way. " Let us lose no more time. Have
you any cherry brandy left?" he added.
" Not a drop — and I have got a cigar ; but my
box of lights must have fallen out of my pocket."
At last they met a man.
" Is this the way tc Cambridge ?" they both asked
in a breath, the instant \.b.ey sighted him.
"Way to Ca-ambridge :" said the fellow, with a
grin. " No — this is the roaO to Newmarket."
" Goodness ! " said Mr. Samuel. " J^xe we — how
far are we, now, from — "
" You're about half-way between 'em, sir."
" Oh, lawd ! " exclaimed Mr. Popham, in a cold
perspiration at the prospect before them. " Is there
no village near ? We can't lead our horses seven
miles."
" Straight on — you're close to the village," said
the rustic, and bade them good night.
" Close to," seemed a long way off; but at last
they reached the village, and made their way to the
only public-house of which the place could boast.
Memoirs of Mr. G alight ly. 267
"Thank Heaven!" said Mr. Popham, as they
mounted the baker's cart, the only vehicle in the
village at their disposal, " we shall get back at
last."
They had refreshed themselves with hot brandy
and water; seen their horses safely bestowed for
the night ; and now — three on a seat, counting the
driver — were fairly on their way back to Cam-
bridge. In this inglorious way ended Mr. Go-
lightly's first day with the Drag.
It was getting very near the end of the term,
when, one fine December morning, as Mr. Golightly
was wending his way in a leisurely manner through
the narrow defiles of Trinity-street — that opposite
the shop of that eminent bibliopole, Mr. Johnson —
he came suddenly upon his friend, Mr. Popham.
" Hallo ! " said Mr. Samuel, pleasantly.
" Hallo ! " was the response of Mr. Percy Pop-
ham, who stood on the doorstep of the shop above
mentioned, and from that coigne of vantage was
carefully scrutinizing with his eyeglass three little
dogs and two large ones, held respectively by an old
man and a young one, of very disreputable appear-
ance, whom our hero had on former occasions seen
Mr. Pokyr speak to as the two Farrans — father and
sou.
268 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
"Eequire anything in the dang line, sir, this
morning ]" said the father.
"Sell you a little dang, sir?" said the son.
Both of them turning their attention from Mr.
Popham to Mr. Golightly.
" N-no — not to-day," said Mr. Samuel. "Are you
going to buy a dog, Popham '? "
" I am, when I see one that takes my fancy, Go-
lightly."
After hearing this announcement, the Messrs.
Farran— pere etjils — became perfectly frantic with
delight. The prices of the five curs that formed
their well-selected kennel went up cent, per cent.,
in their own minds, on the first blush of such news.
First the old man picked up one of the animals out
of the gutter, and thrust it immediately under Mr.
Popham's nose. Then the youth seized one of the
dogs — an old pointer — in his firm grip, and elevated
him in a most playful manner.
" There, my lord, that's the daug for you. He's
a beauty, and no mistake. Close to yer, an' all.
No magnifying glass nor spectacles required to see
fleas on him, for we washes all ourn twice a-day.
Don't wc, old un 1 "
The " old un," thus apostrophized, displayed his
yellow teeth in a comic grin, meant to be emi-
nently x)ropitiatory.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 269
" Wunst a-day we does, there now ; and that's
the truth, yer honour."
But the laudable exertions of the pair of rogues
were destined to be of little avail; for, at that mo-
ment, Mr. Jamaica Blaydes strolled up, arm in arm
with Mr. Calipee.
" Buying a daug, Golightly % " said the former
gentleman, with a smile.
" Popham is," answered our hero.
" Sell you a little daug \ A prime little ratter
this is," said the younger Farran, putting a black
and tan terrier before Mr. Blaydes.
*' Take them away, Farran. They won't do for
us. Here is old Gallagher with his cart, and all
the stock-in-trade. He is the man for our money."
As Mr. Blaydes made the remark, a yellow cart,
drawn by an elderly pony, with the legend, " R.
Gallagher, Dog Fancier," emblazoned upon it,
came round the corner. The cart in question was
full of dogs of all sorts; three dogs ran underneath
it, fastened by three chains ; in the midst sat Mr.
Gallagher himself, holding a tame fox on his knee
with one hand, and grasping the reins with the
other.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he remarked, touching
his hat, and bringing his travelling menagerie to a
stand.
270 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
"My friend here is in want of a dog, Galla-
gher."
"Yes, sir. Now, what sort of a daiig, sir]"
dragging successively half a dozen specimens of
different breeds from the bottom of his cart, and
speaking in terms of the warmest commendation of
them all.
" Stay — we'll come down this afternoon, and
look at what you've got, Gallagher," said Mr.
Blaydes.
" Certainly, sir. Which gentleman is it, now,
as wants one ? " asked the dog fancier, meaning
to wait upon his customer, if the appointment
should, from any unforeseen circumstance, fail to
be kept.
Mr. Popham having intimated that he was
desirous of becoming a purchaser, Mr. Gallagher
said —
"Thank you, sir — thank you, gentlemen ;" and
with great alacrity produced from the pocket of
his fur waistcoat a somewhat soiled piece of paste-
board. "I leave you this," he said, handing to
Mr. Popham the card, on which was inscribed, in
plain and ornamental typography —
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 271
E. GALLAGHER,
ROYAL RIFLE SALOON,
(OPPOSFE SNOOKES'S BOAT HOUSE), CAMBRIDGE.
Every accommodation for keeping and training gentlemen's
DOGS upon reasonable terms. A large quantity of PIGEONS,
RABBITS, RATS, &c., always on hand. Orders for public
or private matches punctually attended to. Gallagher's Fox
Hounds meet daily at the Kennel (sure find). Foxes kept on
the Premises.
GALLAGHER'S
Admission 6d.
The Wonderful Bird, 7 feet high, no tongue, no wings, no
tail; also the Golden Eagle, The Wonderful Porcupine, Jack-
alls, Monkeys, Racoons, and other Foreign Animals, to be
seen at R. Gallagher's.
The above are always on Sale.
N.B.— Persons having Pigeons, Rabbits, &c., to dispose of, can always
obtain the best price by applying to R. Gallagher, as above.
272 The L.ambridge Preshman; or.
In the afternoon they strolled down to the river
side, to pay a visit to Mr. 11. Gallagher, at Sky
Scraper Lodge. They were accompanied by Mr.
Jamaica Blaydes's celebrated bull terrier Jumbo,
and by Mr. Calipee's little black and tan. On
entering the yard of this menagerie, the proprietor
advanced a few yards towards the doorway to meet
them. Mr. Gallagher wore a sporting coat of vel-
veteen, wdth large white mother-of-pearl buttons,
on each of which was represented an engraving of
a coach and four at its top pace, calling to mind
good old times that have long since passed away.
Mr. Gallagher's continuations were of Bedford
cord, his waistcoat was made of some skin or other
— whether it was the dressed hide of some wonder-
ful animal deceased, or whether it was made from
the skin of the Vitulus Britannicus, or British calf,
is a matter of conjecture : certainly it strongly re-
sembled the latter in marks and colour. His
neckerchief was of blue kersey, spotted with
yellow, of the sort known as "birds'-eyes;" and
under one arm he carried a short, thick-knobbed
stick, wdiicli served to preserve order among the
various animals of the collection; while tucke
under his other arm, a tiny dog nestled comfortably
enough.
The entrance of our party within the space en-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 273
closed within the four walls of the yard of Sky
Scraper Lodge was the signal for a general yelping
and barking from the numerous representatives of
the canine species, loose and chained, cribbed and
caged, that appeared in overpowering numbers in
every nook and corner.
"Lay down! — quiet!" said Gallagher to his
kennel. Then, turning with a captivating smile
upon Mr. Popham, winking and blinking all the
time in a half-awake sort of way, lie asked —
" Is it a large daug, or a leetle daug? — a t'y
daug, or suffin' of this yere description]" — pointing
to a huge mastiif as he spoke.
Mr. Golightly, while this interrogation was pro-
ceeding, amused himself by looking round Mr.
Gallagher's establishment. Ranged round the
walls were tiers of cages, containing fowls, a few
pheasants, three or four ravens, a pair of owls,
groups of little dogs too small to take care of
themselves among their heavier brethren, tabby
cats, a monkey or two, several foxes; and, in a
tub set on end, was what, from the perfume and
refuse cabbage leaves diffused around, and from a
placard on the wall — " Drawing the Badger, One
Shilling" — might be presumed to be Gallagher's
famous badger.
Whilst our hero, with his customary quickness
2 74
The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
of observation, was running his eagle eye over this
curious collection, and striving in vain to discover
the whereabouts of the " Wonderful Bird, seven
feet high, that had neither tongue, wings, nor tail/'
, MR. GALLAGHER AND HI^ MENAGERIE.
he became aware that Mr. Popham had communi.
cated to the dog fancier his views upon their im.
mediate business ; for he observed Gallagher lead-
Mefuoirs of Mr. Golightly. 275
ing the way into a sort of shed or stable, carrying
in his arms a rough-haired terrier, and followed by
our hero's three friends. Naturally enough, Mr.
Samuel followed them — to the rat-pit, as it turned
out.
" Now, sir, let him have a dozen o' these," said
the fancier — "and if he don't kill 'em before
you've time to tek out your ticker and tell us
wot's the time o' day, I'll eat him up myself—
T-h-e-r-e!'*
Mr. Popham having consented to the expendi-
ture of six shillings in rats, Gallagher opened the
door of a wire cage, and let two or three into the
pit. But the terrier, for some reason or other,
declined to kill them, which made Gallagher affirm
that it was because he had " that instant had his
dinner, and gorn and blowed hisself out fit to
bust."
On the proposition of Mr. Calipee, who was
familiar with the resources of the establishment,
they saw the ravens kill rats, and the cat kill rats,
and the fox kill rats, and several sorts of terriers
destroy the vermin, at a cost of only sixpence per
rat.
"By Jove! Gallagher, everything you've got
kills. I believe the old pony would rat, too, if
you put him in the pit."
T 2
2 76 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" I've no doubt he would, sir. I've trained 'em.
I've trained 'em all to it."
Mr. Blaydes's dog, Jumbo, next drew the badger.
The process was simpler than may be supposed.
The tub having been overturned, and the unfor-
tunate occupant well shaken up to liven him into
a fit state of anger, Gallagher presented Jumbo to
the badger — putting him a little way into the
barrel, and pulling him out again a few times, till
the enraged badger flew at him ; when there was
an angry tussle, a few yelps from the poor dog, and
the draw was over : to be repeated as often as was
desired, at one shilling per time.
" That old badger's no good, Gallagher. You've
had him for years," said Mr. Calipee, who was
quite a sportsman.
" Not more than six months — on my honour, I
haven't," replied the fancier.
"How often is he drawnl" inquired Mr. Pop-
ham.
''Well, sir, that depends on the gentlemen's
fancies a good deal. Sometimes oftener than
others."
" Doesn't cost you much to keep, Gallagher," said
Mr. Blaydes.
" Subsists on vegetables, sir."
" Cabbages, apparently."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 277
"Is it not cruel — that is, unkind, I mean'?" said
Mr. Golightly, somewhat timidly.
" Cruel, sir? " said Gallagher. " Varmin's \ armin
— that's what varmin is. It's sport — all sport."
'' But is it sport for the badger?"
" To be sure, sir. He loves it. No dog can't
hurt him. He's as happy in that there tub as ever
Dio-genous was — and happier ; for he has as much
as ever he can eat — that he do. Let your little
daug run arter a rabbit, Mr. Calerpee — do him
good."
Accordingly, Mr. Calipee assenting, they all sal-
lied forth through the doorway on to the Com
mon, where the rabbit, having had a few yards
start allowed it, was chevied by half a dozen dogs
— all the party, except our hero, crying " Loo."
After doubling and dodging for the space of
three or four minutes, the poor little animal was
surrounded by its pursuers; but Mr. Gallagher,
whose agility was remarkable, soon arrived at the
spot, and, rescuing the rabbit from the dogs,
brought it back in his arms.
"Do again another time — eh, Gallagher?" said
Mr. Blaydes.
" Cert'nly, sir — a fair run's a fair shillin's worth
any day. Have one more, sir?"
But here our hero interposed, saying — -
278 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Come, let us go. The rats I'm in doubt about
— the badger may like it ; but it is not fair to the
poor little rabbit. Do not let us do it again."
"You aint no sportsman, sir, I'm afraid."
Mr. Samuel admitted that he was not.
"Well, sir, you'll hev this yere leetle daug, I
s'pose?" said Gallagher to Mr. Popham.
And, after considerable haggling as to price, the
rough-haired terrier became the property of Mr.
Percy Popham for the moderate consideration of
four pounds sterling and the promise of two old
pairs of trousers, of which the fancier said he was
badly in W' ant ; and the terrier was led off in
triumph by his new master.
^!
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 279
CHAPTER XVI.
MR. GOLIGHTLY QUITS ALMA MATER FOR
OAKINGHAM RECTORY.
]UR hero was so well pleased with his life at
the University, that he found the end of
the term approaching with feelings akin to
regret. There was left, however, the comforting
reflection that, although the Michaelmas term was
nearly at an end, the Lent term would follow hard
upon its heels. The vacation was heralded by the
appearance of Mrs. Cribb daily in a clean apron,
while Mr. Sneek persistently wore his Sunday
necktie for a week. The cups and saucers were
washed, and the crockery generally polished up,
and arranged in order in the cupboards of the pro-
prietors. All the jam pots that had been emptied
in term time were scrubbed and displayed in the
gyp-room. Articles of furniture that had been un-
visited by the renovating influence of the domestic
duster for weeks, received a few hasty touches.
28o The Cambridge Freshman; or^
The carpets were swept, and grates touched up
with black-lead. New brushes and brooms made
their appearance on the scene ; and a much heavier
stock of tea, coffee, and groceries in general was
laid in than could possibly be consumed by the
gentlemen in whose bills an account of the same
would appear, in due course, next term.
The activity and zeal of Mr. Sneek, the civility
and care of Mrs. Cribb, increased daily ; also the
propensity of both to enter into conversation on
subjects relating to the loss they always sustained
while " the gentlemen " were away ; the advent of
Christmas ; high price of commodities ; possible
effect of severe weather in bringing either them-
selves or near and dear members of their families
to an untimely grave, during tjie absence of their
masters — for whose comfort they were always ready
to do anything in the world. The meaning, intent,
and purpose of all of which protestations are too
manifest to require much explanation at our hands.
Their common object was a liberal tip. After a
grand farewell dinner of the Mutton Cutlet Club,
to which many old Cutlets from many parts of the
country came ; after several festive evenings at the
rooms of various friends ; after a number of college
meetings on as many different subjects, the morn-
ing of the Friday that was to witness our hero's re-
Memoirs of Mr. GoligJitly. 281
turn to Oakingham-cum-Pokeington arrived. Lee-
tures and chapels being over for the term, he in-
dulged himself a little, and did not rise until
eleven o'clock. He found both Sneek and Cribb
officiously attentive at breakfast.
"Sausages'?" was Mr. Samuel's first remark
" Why, George is coming to have some breakfast
with me, and I told you to get me some cutlets, aux
tomates."
" The cutlets, sir — " answered Mrs. Cribb.
** And tomarters — " said Mr. Sneek, continuing
the sentence.
" Is in—"
" The fender, sir," said the gyp.
" If you please, sir," said Mrs. Cribb, smiling
very blandly, and lifting the cover off the dish,
"my sister, sir — she lives a few miles out of
Cambridge, at a village, sir — and she always kills
a pig, fed on the best of oatmeal, and nothing
else, a few weeks before Christmas ; and, sir, I
have took the liberty — without giving offence,
I 'ope, sir — of offering you a few sossinges made
by her own hands, so I can warrant they don't
contain nothing but country pork and bread
crumbs!"
Our hero could do nothing else but graciously
accept Mrs. Cribb's present. Accordingly, he did
282 The Ca77tbrid^e Freshman ; or,
so ; at the same time requesting her to call his
cousin George up to breakfast.
" Which," said Mr. Sneek, with a knowing wink,
as soon as ever Mr. Samuel's door had closed upon
the bedmaker, " which I've often heard Mr. Pokyr
say as them sausages every term's worth a guinea a
pound to Betsy Cribb. I do believe she gets that
for 'em out of the gentlemen — and no mistake ! '*
"Does she?" said our hero, looking at the bright
tin cover which enshrined the precious delicacy.
*' I," said Sneek, heaving a great sigh from the
very bottom of his capacious chest, " aint — got — no
sister now." Here the gyp took out a prodigiously
holey yellow and green bandanna, and flourished it
about in a heartrending manner. " I lost mine —
two year ago come Whitsuntide. I have not got
sausages — nor pork pies — like Cribb; but I do
hope I do my duty, and leave it to gentlemen
to—"
" Do theirs, I suppose you are going to say,
Sneek."
" Beggin' pardon, no, sir — not at all. What I do
and meant to say was, I leave it to gentlemen to
behave in what way they think proper ; but when
gentlemen, for instance, is Freshmen, and now, for
instance, just at the end of their first terms, they
misht not know the usual custom, and — "
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 283
" Very well — very well. I dare say, if you leave
the matter to me, you will have no reason to be
dissatisfied."
" That I'm sure on — and more than sure on,"
continued Sneek ; adding, if possible, to the com-
pliment by this further assurance, " for no more
liberal master nor Mr. George Golightly did I ever
want, and yourn's the same name, sir — so it is."
The gyp's further remarks were stopped by the
entrance of Mr. George.
" Well, I suppose you will be ready when we
are? The train leaves at three o'clock."
" I must be," said Mr. Samuel. " Oh, good gra-
cious, George ! " he exclaimed, putting his hand in
the pocket of his coat.
" Well, what now ! " asked his cousin, who never
sympathized too much with Mr. Samuel in his little
troubles.
"Why," said our hero, excitedly, producing from
his pocket a letter duly addressed to his father,
" they won't know I am coming. I wrote this
letter last night, and I declare I quite forgot to
post it."
''Never mind; post it now. You'll be there be-
fore the letter, that's all; and you can tell them it's
coming, instead. Do you see % "
" Oh, dear, oh ! " said our hero. " And I pro-
284 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
mised my Fa I would call on Mr. Smith; and.
besides that, I've got all sorts of things to do."
Being thus pressed for time, Mr. Samuel hur-
riedly despatched his meal.
" You've had sausages from Mrs. Cribb, I see,"
said his cousin. " I have had a pie. I don't be-
lieve her sister makes them at all. I don't even
believe she has got a sister ! "
"Um!" said our hero. "I think they are all
right — come from the country, I mean. There is
a horrid little pie and sausage shop in a street near
the Market-square. I would not for the world
have touched one if I thought — "
" She got them there," said Mr. George. "Well,
she does, I firmly believe. Pokyr swears he saw
her come out of the shop last night with her basket
crammed with things."
*' Dear me ! " said Mr. Samuel, in undisguised
concern.
" Yes," continued his cousin ; " and accordingly
this morning, when the old girl made a speech and
presented him with a pie, Pokyr threw up the
window like a man, and chucked the abomination
into the middle of the river."
" B — but," said our hero, musingly, " I don't
think I could have done that. I should have been
afraid of hurting Mrs. Cribb's feelings."
Memoirs of Mr, Golightly, 285
" Pokyr knows a sovereign remedy for wounds of
that kind," replied Mr. George.
"Well," said Mr. George, an hour and a half
after, when he met Mr. Samuel in Brown-street,
" have you called on Mr. ^mith, and got all your
other things done \ — because the train won't wait
for you, as you know."
" I have," replied our hero. " I was lucky in
finding Mr. Smith at home; and, George, I'm sure
Fa will be quite delighted. You know how fond
he is of science and scientific men."
" I know," said Mr. George, " that he is a con-
tributing member of the Loamshire Archaeological
Association."
"Well," said Mr. Samuel, " Mr. Smith tells me
that the next meeting of the Royal Geological As-
sociation will be held at Fuddleton, and that visits
to all parts of Loamshire will be made. Mr. Smith
is coming, and the — the great Dr. Fledgeby — Pro-
fessor Fledgeby, you know — and, in fact, every-
body. And Mr. Smith said, 'As an old friend of
your Fa's' — 'Father's,' he said, of course — ' I shall
ask him to put me up at Oakingham Rectory.' Fa
will be delighted, I'm sure."
In the excitement consequent on making this im-
portant disclosure, Mr. Samuel had, without know-
286 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
ing it, come to a full stop at the very door of
the cigar shop kept by the Brown-street Venus's
mamma. As soon as he became aware of his
locality, he felt to a certain extent embarrassed, as
he had studiously avoided Miss Bellair since the
day when the practical joke had been played on
him in her name.
" I'm going in to get a canister of smoking mix-
ture to take down with me," said his cousin.
« Come in ! "
Mr. Samuel, with a greater show of coolness than
might have been expected, did so. On entering
the shop, they found Mrs. Bellair quite alone. She
at once commenced a long explanatory and apolo-
getic discourse, in which she assured Mr. Samuel
that both she and her daughter were wholly inno-
cent of any complicity in the plot by which his
friends had hoaxed him ; and, in a word, the moral
and pith of her remarks appeared, on a moment's
consideration, to amount to this — namely, that her
matronly feelings had been outraged in such a way
by the use to which her errand boy's services and
her daughter's name had been put, that nothing
but an assurance from our hero that he was satis-
fied of her innocence, and would give her his cus-
tom again in future, would restore her mental
equilibrium.
Memoirs of Mr. Lrolightly. 287
In the end, Mr. Samuel assured Mrs. Bellair
that, in his opinion, she was the repository of all
the virtues ; and purchased a box of cigars of her
accordingly.
Matters having been thus satisfactorily arranged,
Mr. Samuel and Mr. George returned to St. Mary's
— where they found Sneek had lost no time in what
they termed " getting their traps together." Every-
thing having been packed, and their exeats duly
forwarded to the buttery, they were ready to start.
Mr. Sneek and Mrs. Cribb received their tips with
a profusion of thanks, expressing their heartfelt re-
gret at the separation that was about to take place
between themselves and such excellent masters.
Mr. Pokyr and a friend, who were to accompany
them as far as Bletchley, met them at the station ;
where, having secured a compartment to them-
selves and their dogs, they soon left Alma Mater
behind. They beguiled the tedium of the journey
with a game at cards, in which our hero, with his
usual luck, came off worst man. Without either
accident or delay, they arrived in due course at
Fuddleton, where they found the carriage from the
Hall in waiting to convey them to Oakingham.
288 The Cambrids'e Freshmayi; or,
CHAPTER XVII.
RECOUNTS AN INSTANCE OF CHARITY ILL-BESTOWED
UR hero's reception by the various members
of his family was of the most enthusiastic
description. When his uncle's carriage
drew up at the door of the Rectory, Mr. Samuel
found his father already on the steps, waiting to
receive and embrace his son. The welcome he was
destined to meet with at the hands of his mamma,
and his aunts Harriet and Dorothea, was no less
hearty. In a word, his family were dehghted to see
him at home again ; and Mr. Samuel was equally
happy and pleased to be there. The amount of
news they had to tell him was only exceeded by
the importance of that which he had to impart to
them. He amused his family with descriptions of
the various ways in which he had spent his time
since he had left them ; passing from grave to gay,
and back again, in a manner at once vivacious and
impressive.
Memoirs of Mi'. Golightly.
289
On the other hand, when all the news of the
country-side had been communicated to our hero
by his aunts and his mamma, the worthy Rector
began to dilate upon the topic just then most talked
THE WELCOME HO:.IE.
about in that part of the world — the approaching
Tisit of the great Geological Association to Fud-
dleton and the neighbourhood. The subject having
u
200 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
been thus introduced by his father, reminded our
hero of his visit to Mr. Smith, and the announce-
ment made by that scientific gentleman that he in-
tended to avail himself of the hospitality of his
friend, the Rev. Mr. Golightly, during the two
days' excursion of the Association to Loamshire.
" I am sure," said Mrs. Golightly, who was a
Loamshire lady, " I have lived in the country all
my life, and I never knew there was anything par-
ticular in sand for people to come and see."
" Some of the strata and fossil formations are of
a very remarkable character, and well worthy of a
visit," said Mr. Morgan, the curate.
" My dear," said the Rector, who by this time
had placed himself in his favourite position and
attitude on the hearth-rug, " it must always be left
to Associations, consisting of men of science, to de-
termine what such Associations think worthy of
their important deliberations."
" Certainly, brother," said both the maiden ladies.
" I could almost have wished," continued their
brother, " that their pursuits had been of an archaeo-
logical rather than a geological nature; for, cer-
tainly, no church for ten miles round is better worth
the attention of the curious and learned than our
own interesting church of Oakingham-cum-Poke-
ington."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly,
291
"Certainly, dear," said all the three ladies, in
chorus.
" The painted glass in the eastern window is most
Temarkable," continued the Rector — " that must be
MR. Samuel's reception by his mamma and aunts.
admitted. The brasses are in more perfect preser-
vation than any I ever saw."
"And Rackett, the sexton, takes beautiful copies
u 2
292 Tl'ie Cambridge Freshman; or,
of them with cobbler's heelball/' said Miss Harriet,
interrupting her brother.
" The tombs of our own family are not altogether
to be overlooked, I trust," remarked Miss Dorothea,
with some show of asperity, tempered by a just
pride, not unbecoming in a distant connection of
the great Tredsofte family.
" You say so with justice, Dorothea," said the
Rector. " But passing over all these minor points,
in my opinion the piscina is the glory of Oaking-
ham Church. It has long been a theory of mine —
which I am prepared to maintain at all hazards —
that that piscina is the finest and most perfect in
the county."
" The sedilia are finely chiselled, and in wonder-
fully good preservation," said Mr. Morgan.
"They are, they are!" cried the Rector, with
animation; "but, when all's said and done, com-
mend me to the piscina."
However, as geological science has to deal rather
with the material itself than with the carving and
tooling thereof; and, further, thinks nothing of car-
rying back its speculations over a period of five
thousand years or more, the antiquity of only a few
centuries more or less, claimed by the Reverend
Mr. Golightly for the stone curiosities of his
church, would inevitably seem little in its eyes.
• Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 293
" Well," said he, at the conclusion of a discourse
of some considerable length on the wonders of
Oakingham parish generally — including, of course,
his parishioner, Mrs. Vine, who has on two occa-
sions received the sum of three sovereigns from her
Most Gracious Majesty — " Well, I shall be only
too happy to entertain my old friend INIr. Smith,
and any friend of his who may accompany him."
" Professor Fledgeby is coming with the Asso-
ciation," said our hero.
" Is he really % " said the Rector. " The illus-
trious and venerable author of ' The Elephant's
True Place in Nature,' 'Talks on Tusks' — and —
and—"
" ' Mornings with the Mammoth and the Masto-
don,'" said Mr. Morgan, " if I am' not mistaken."
" They will be more trouble than half a dozen
ordinary visitors, Samuel, my dear," said Mrs. Go-
lightly, in a tone of mild remonstrance. " Tuffley
will have to take all the best silver out of the
cases, and clean it; and I'm sure the centre can-
delabrum is a day's work in itself, if it is done
properly."
" But there is something in the honour of enter-
taining such guests," remarked Miss Dorothea, who
was ambitious in her notions. *
" Precisely my own view, Dorothea," said the
294 "^^^^ Cambridge Freshmmi; or^
Rector ; " and I shall beg of Mr. Smith to per-
suade the great Dr. Fledgeby to come."
The pending visit of the Royal Geological As-
sociation was an event calculated to set all Fuddle-
ton in a commotion such as the oldest inhabitant of
the town had never witnessed before. The mayor
and corporation had several meetings among them-
selves, and two dinners at the expense of the Reve-
rend Canon Playfair, Vicar of All Saints, Fuddle-
ton — first, on the occasion of their graciously tak-
ing into consideration the propriety of permitting
the Royal Geological Association to hold sittings in
the Town Hall ; and, secondly, on the occasion of
their giving consent to the same. An order in
council was made, on the proposition of Mr. Coun-
cillor Dasher, that the mayor's robe of state be
trimmed with a border of real sable fur, in place of
the imitation ditto now upon it; a new pair of
plush inexpressibles for the town-crier were voted
nem. con. ; and the leading local brass-founder, Mr.
Alderman Noysey, proposed a new bell for the
same useful functionary of the corporation; but
this expense was considered unnecessary, as the
present bellman's voice was louder than any bell,
and equal to all occasions. Nor was the county
behindhand. The rnagistrates met in solemn form,
as at quarter-sessions. Letters were sent by the
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 295
lord-lieutenant of the county, the two members for
North Loamshire, and the bishop of the diocese*
expressing, with more or less perspicuity, their
great and unspeakable regret that they were not
able to be present on the auspicious occasion. No-
body thought the lord-lieutenant would come to
welcome the Association, for his letter arrived
twenty minutes after Sir Tattleton Pratt, who had
already informed his brother J.P.s that Lord Sho-
velle had told him — when the hounds met the
other day at Fendre Abbey — that " he had hunted
the county for many years without seeing anything
peculiar in the geological formation, except that in
some parts it wasn't so sandy as in others ; and he
wondered what they wanted to come to Fuddleton
for." His lordship added, also, that " if he went to
their confabs he must ask them out to Fendre ; and
though, as everybody knew, he liked company, and
saw as much as any man in the county, they weren't
his sort, and he should not have anything to do
with 'em — that was flat. Besides, it's Playfair that
has asked 'em to come, and he's a Whig ? " So,
when his lordship's letter was read, stating he had
got another nt of gout, it was not believed.
As for the bishop, he had only been asked out of
compliment ; for, being nearly blind, quite deaf, in
his ninety-fourth year, and bedridden about nine
296 The Cambridge F^'eshman; or,
months out of the twelve, he did not go out into
society mucli. But the county members were sub-
jected, in their absence, to much criticism of an
angry kind ; and old Squire Womb well — who was
very deaf, and came in late, with an imperfect
knowledge of the business before the meeting: —
was so impressed by the heated debate going on,
that he thought it was election time ; and, so-
lemnly rising from his seat, proposed the reading
of the Riot Act — with him a panacea for the heal-
ing of all dissensions, civil or military. The result
of the meeting was that the Shire Hall was placed
at the disposal of the Association, and a resolution
cotsne to by the county to act in concert with the
town authorities in giving the scientific gentlemen
a fitting reception; though the chairman interposed
an obstacle in the way of a united procession to the
railway station, by saying he would never, so long^
as his name was Sir Tulse Hill, Bart., consent to
walk behind any mayor of Fuddleton — past, pre-
sent, or to come. The difficulty was got over by
an arrangement in the nature of a compromise : Sir
Tulse Hill was to ride in his own coach and pair,
while the mayor and corporation — who had not got
any coaches — preceded him on foot.
The eventful day arrived. Flags of an inexpen-
sive but gaudy character floated from several houses
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 297
and shops. The Union Jack was displayed at the
Town Hall, and the Royal standard floated from
the roof of the Sliire flail. Red baize and lanrels
in plenty decorated the platform of the railway sta-
tion. The wind was very high ; and, at a quarter
to ten, the triumphal arch in the High-street, with
the inscription, in yellow paper rosettes, "Welcome
to the R. G. A.," on it, was blown down. Time
did not admit of its re-erection on a firmer basis,
as the " special " with the distinguished visitors v/as
expected at eleven. At half-past ten, the Union
Jack was blown away; and a i^vf minutes after-
wards the flagstaff followed, carrying with it a por-
tion of the stucco balustrade. Providentially, no
one was near at the time, so that was all the mis-
chief done. Precisely at a quarter to eleven by All
Saints' clock, a heavy rain began to fall. The only
cheering feeling in the breasts of the corporation,
as they marched down to the station, was that it
was too heavy to last. The procession was most
imposing — or rather, it would have been so, had
the day been fine. It was marshalled in the fol-
lowing order: — Ragged boys and girls of Fuddle-
ton, forming a very irregular vanguard ; six county
policemen, with staves sheathed; six town ditto,
staves ditto ; the chief constable of the county
police, mounted on his horse, well known with the
298 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
Loamshire hounds, and unquiet with music ; the
mayor of Fuddleton, Mr. Timothy Figgins, J.P. ;
the worshipful the mayor's mace-bearer, holding an
umbrella over his worship's head ; the town coun-
cil, carrying their own umbrellas ; Sir Tulse Hill,
Bart., in his carriage, drawn by two gray horses ;
other carriaojes. intended for the conveyance of
members of the E-oyal Geological Association's
Loamshire excursion party ; the town-crier, and
other corporation servants ; six policemen ; towns-
people of Fuddleton who had nothing better to
occupy their time. In the station yard was placed
a guard of honour of the First Fuddleton Volunteer
E-ifles, with their regimental band, at present shel-
tering themselves from the rain under the com-
modious goods shed.
The last detachment of the august procession had
hardly taken up a position on the platform, when
the " special " containing the excursion party of
savans entered the station.
The men of science were evidently taken by sur-
prise at the magnificent reception which awaited
them. Loud cheers greeted them as the train drew
up at the platform. The town-clerk advanced, and
read a neat address, in which they were assured by
that functionary that their visit to Fuddleton was an
honour that would never be forgotten in the annals
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. . 299
of that ancient and loyal borough. This speech
having been acknowledged in fitting terms by the
members of the Association, they took their seats
in the carriages provided for their accommodation,
and were at once driven to the Town Hall ; the
band appropriately playing " The Eoast Beef of Old
England " as they left the station yard. Arrived at
the ToAvn Hall, they found a cold collation spread
out in the council chamber for the refreshment of
the animal part of their nature ; and although the
advancement of science was the sole object of their
visit, it is to be observed that they did full justice
to the liberal breakfast provided by the corporation.
This ceremony over, the party split of its own ac-
cord into two sections — one of which went to the
Shire Hall, the other remaining at the Town Hall ;
at both of which places short papers were read, for
the edification of the party, by local magnates in
the scientific world.
By the time that the papers had been read, and
as much light thrown upon the geological wonders
of the neighbourhood as could conveniently be done
in half an hour, the rain had ceased ; and the two
sections were ready to set out upon their explora-
tions. It was at this moment that our friend, the
Rector of Oakingham, had the felicity of renewing
his acquaintance with the learned and ingenious
300 The Cambridge Freshman or,
Mr. Smith ; and, at the samt time, of making a
friend of the distinguished author of the " Ele-
phant's True Place in Nature," Professor Fledgeby.
Mr. Smith was in appearance no more unusual than
his name ; but the Professor was more remarkable,
being a fossil old gentleman, in threadbare snuff-
coloured clothes, with a low-crowned hat of antique
fashion. His face was the colour of parchment, and
over his eyes he wore a huge green shade. Like
the other members of the excursion party, he car-
ried in his hand his geological hammer, which he
had previously used to such good purpose in ascer-
taining the defoliant's place in nature.
After an interchange of compliments on both
sides, the Rector gave his friends a cordial invita-
tion to make Oakingham E-ectory their home during
their two days' stay in Loamshire ; which was will-
ingly accepted. The programme for the day was
an excursion to the fossil formation at Frampton
Magna, thence to the coprolites being worked by a
limited liability company at Whelpton-on-the-Hill ;
next, dinner at Oakingham Rectory ; and lastly, a
grand j^«a?e in the shape of a conversazione in the
Shire Hall at Fuddleton — at which the rank and
fashion, wit, learning, and beauty of Loamshire
were to be abundantly represented.
The visit to Frampton Magna passed off without
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 301
any incident Avorthy of remark — except that the
Professor missed his footing, and fell into a gravel
pit, from which he was happily extricated without
much damage, but with a good deal of mud sticking
to his coat, which did not improve his appearance,
if dress is to be taken as a rough test of respecta-
bility. He had likewise so far improved the oc-
casion as to fill all his pockets with fossils and spe-
cimens of different kinds, which, for the most part,
fell out in the course of his tumble, and took some
little time for his friends to collect again, and re-
store to him. At the coprolite diggings at Whelp-
ton, however, his friends lost him altogether for
a while — whether with something of the perversity
of genius, or from that absence of mind which not
unfrequently accompanies absorbing study, it is not
easy to say ; but, for some reason or other, the Pro-
fessor had succeeded in detaching himself from the
main body of excursionists, and was quietly pursu-
ing some investigations of his own by the side of
the road which leads from Whelpton-on-the-Hill to
Oakingham. Here, as luck would have it, the
Misses Dorothea and Harriet Golightly found him
seated on a huge stone, and pecking away diligently
at a heap of smaller stones, placed there at the ex-
pense of the parish, for the purpose of mending the
way.
302 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
" I really wonder where the Association has got
to, Harriet," said Miss Dorothea, giving her pony a
cut with the whip.
" Samuel said they would be here about half-past
three," said Miss Harriet, pulling out her watch,
" and it is that time now."
" Is if?" said her sister. " Really, it is quite pro-
voking, when one feels such an interest in their
doings, to be unable to find them. It reminds me
of Samuel's directions to find the hounds, which we
have often driven miles after without ever seeing
once."
" I don't see anything of them," said Miss Har-
riet, turning round to the footman, who sat behind
the two ladies. "Which is the coprolite place,
Smith? You come from Whelpton, don't youl"
" Yes, ma'am. These is the diggin's, ma'am —
leastways, this is where they wash 'em, ma'am."
*' Servants never know anything," said Miss Do-
rothea, tartly.
" He knows this is the coprolite place, sister,"
said Miss Harriet, apologetically.
" It can't be. Where is the Association V'
To this question there seemed to be no answer.
" I wonder," said the younger lady, in a mild and
propitiatory tone, as she caught sight of Professor
Fledgeby — "I wonder if that old man has seen any-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 303
thing of them," she continued, pointing at the un-
conscious savant with her umbrella.
" Perhaps he has. But, really, the people about
here are so stupid they never seem to me to be able
to see the length of their noses. Ahem!" said the
elder spinster, raising her voice. "Ahem ! "
But as the Professor was deaf, the interjection
was lost upon him.
" Hi ! " said Smith from behind.
The old gentleman heard this, and looked up va-
cantly from his stone heap ; then pulled his green
shade farther over his eyes, and went quietly on
with his pecking.
" Did any one ever see such ignorant stupidity
and ill-manners % " said Miss Dorothea. " You see
what it is for the parish to be without a resident
clergyman : the people are like heathens."
" Quite awful," chimed in her sister.
"He is a Whelpton man, is he not, Smith'? "
" He's out o' the Union, I think, ma'am. The
Union men break the stones on the roads."
Hereupon Miss Dorothea drove up close to
the Professor — who had so much of the scarecrow
about him that the pony became quite frightened
and restless, and fidgeted about in a most uneasy
manner.
*' Get down, and hold the pony's head a minute,
304 The Cambridge Freshman ; or^
Smith. Have you seen any gentlemen about here,
my good man ?"
" I'm rather deaf — I beg your pardon," said the
geologist, putting his hand to his ear.
" Have you been here all day ?" said the lady, in
a louder voice.
" Not very long," replied the Professor.
" Have you seen any gentlemen about hereT'
"The Association, you meanT'
" There ! " said Miss Harriet, with enthusiasm.
*' You see, he is more intelligent than you thought.
He evidently has heard of the visit of the Associa-
tion."
"Yes — where are theyT'
" They are in a field over there, I believe," said
the man of science, pointing over the hedge.
A short conversation followed, in which the un-
favourable impression Dr. Fledgeby had at first
made on Miss Dorothea Golightly's mind was en-
tirely removed. He stood close to the little four-
wheel as Miss Dorothea reined up her pony to
follow his directions concerning the whereabouts
of the Association.
"Really, he is very intelligent and civil, Har-
riet," said the elder sister, fumbling in the pocket
of her gown. " I've a great mind, if I've got one —
yes, I have. There, my man."
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 305
The carriage drove on, leaving Dr. Fledgeby
staring vacantly at a new shilling that lay shin-
ing in his astonished palm; — probably the first
instance on record of a University Professor, and
the senior fellow of St. Mary's, receiving out-door
relief in such a fashion.
The Doctor was aghast — the sheer dishonesty of
receiving a shilling under such false pretences ! —
but he could not run after the vehicle, being too
old and shaky even to walk well. Luckily, he had
a keen sense of humour, which stood him in good
stead; so he laughed a dry, geological laugh, and
pocketed the coin. He resumed his labours at the
stone-heap.
"Oh, here you are!" exclaimed the Reverend
Samuel Golightly and Mr. Smith, suddenly burst-
ing through the hedge.
" Yes," said the author of " Mornings with the
Mammoth," when he perceived his friends. He
related the incident.
The Rector and Mr. Smith laughed at the joke
until they held their sides; and the Professor joined
them in their fun.
" Capital ! I beg a thousand pardons, though,
for the utter want of common penetration displayed
by my neighbours. It reflects the highest credit
gn your philosophical principles, Dr. Fledgeby, ta
3o6 The Canidridge Freshman, or.
be able to take as a joke what a meaner and less
enlightened mind might have construed into an
insult."
"Oh, the Professor doe? not mind," said Mr.
Smith.
"What am I to do with the shilling, though?"
asked the geologist.
" I once found a fourpenny-piece," said the Rec-
tor, "and that I placed in the poor-box. That
certainly was different — ah — somewhat."
" Restore it to the owner, Professor," said Mr,
Smith.
" You'll nevei find — Stay, though," added the
reverend gentleman, with his finger on his fore-
head, " I think — yes. I feel sure, I know who it
was. There are two ignorant, affected — well, I
won't be uncharitable — old women who live at
Whelpton Hall, and I believe — yes, I may say I'm
sure — it was Miss Sally or Miss Betty Harris ; so
as you, Professor Fledgeby, Mdll never see either
of them again, you must put the shilling in my
poor-box when you honour me by looking over my
church. But here is the carriage," said the Rec-
tor, pulling out his watch, " and we shall not do
more than be in time for dinner ; so, if I may pre-
sume to request so distinguished a man of science
to lay aside the hammer for the knife — ah — and
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 307
fork," continued Mr. Golightly, " and to suspend
his benevolent studies for the good of humanity for
the present — permit me to assist you in getting
into the carriage, my dear Dr. Fledgeby."
In the drawing-room at the Rectory, a few mi-
nutes before dinner was announced, Dr. Fledgeby
made his appearance — quite an altered man — in
his black suit and white neckerchief.
" Dr. Fledgeby," said the Rector, in his blandest
tones, " may I present to you Mrs. Samuel Go-
lightly"? Dorothea, my dear, I have the honour to
present you to one of the most distinguished men
of science in Europe. Dr. Fledgeby — Miss Do-
rothea Golightly, my elder sister."
The old geologist bowed pleasantly, and a smile
twinkled in his eyes as he put his hand into his
waistcoat pocket, evidently feeling for something
he had there.
X 2
308 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
CHAPTER XVIII.
OUR HERO PURSUES SCIENCE.
THINK I have had the pleasure of meet-
ing you before," said Dr. Fledgeby, bow-
ing graciously to Miss Dorothea Go-
lightly, and still fumbling mysteriously in his waist-
coat pocket.
The Rector nodded significantly behind the Pro-
fessor's back, intending by the action to convey his
belief that his sister and Dr. Fledgeby had met at
Bath or Cheltenham, very likely.
" No ; I think," replied Miss Dorothea — who
was firmly persuaded, from what she had heard
her brother say of him, that the Professor was one
of the greatest personages in the world — " that if
I may venture to correct Dr. Fledgeby's recollec-
tion upon such a point — I think I never had the
honour of being presented to him before; and I
am sure I am delighted."
" My sister adores genius, Dr. Fledgeby," said
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 309
Mrs. Golightly. " We are all delighted to receive
you at Oakingham."
" Delighted," echoed the Rector; and our hero,
and Mr. Morgan, and Miss Harriet circling round
the Doctor and Aunt Dorothea.
" I have met Miss Golightly before," said the
geologist, with his finger and thumb still in his
pocket.
" I really venture to presume," began Aunt
Dorothea.
There was considerable curiosity manifested
among the little group of listeners to know where
Dr. Fledgeby could possibly have met Miss Do-
rothea. It was visibly increased when the great
man of science added —
" And Miss Harriet, too."
At this remark. Aunt Harriet uttered a faint
exclamation of surprise.
There was evidently something amusing to be
told, for the Professor was all smiles. This was
catching, and communicated itself to the Rector
and everybody else — Mr. Smith, the Professor's
friend, included. The faces of all wore an expres-
sion of pleased and expectant curiosity. Every,
body laughed in a well-bred way; and they all, by
an almost involuntary movement, edged them-
selves a liitle closer to the two central figures.
o
lO The Cambridge FresJiinan; or.
" We must apologize — indeed, we can hardly
express cur regret sufficiently for the circumstance.
Dr. Fledgeby," said Miss Dorothea, who could not
make it out at all, but was all the while most inno-
cently unembarrassed; " but we, I am sorry to say,
cannot either of us call to mind when we had the
distinguished honour of making the acquaintance
of the eminent Dr. Fledgeby."
" Not very long ago, Miss Golightly," said the
old gentleman, with an arch look at Aunt Do-
rothea.
"Not long ago!" said both sisters, in a cogita-
tive tone.
" We have not been to Bath this year," said
Miss Harriet.
" It was not at Bath," said the Doctor; " and
our interview was very short. Now do you re-
collectr'
"Prodigious memory for faces the Professor
has," said the Eeverend Mr. Golightly to his cu-
rate, in an undertone. " I always thought Doro-
thea's was very good."
"Prodigious!" said Mr. Morgan, in a whisper.
"Could it possibly have been at Cheltenham,
dearr' suggested Mrs. Gohghtly, blandly.
" It was at Whelpton," said the geologist.
*' Whelpton!" cried everybody.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 311
"At Whelpton, Dr. Fleclgeby! — to-day?" said
Miss Dorothea. "Why, unfortunately, we were
too late to see anybody."
" You saw me, Miss Golightly," returned the
Professor, holding up the shilling. "Don't you
recollect, you gave me this?"
"Oh, Dorothea! — what could have possessed
you?" groaned the Rector, looking very grave.
"Whatever for?" asked Mrs. Golightly of the
company generally.
Miss Dorothea had never felt so confused and
ashamed before in her life; while poor Miss
Harriet fairly hid herself behind her brother's
shoulders.
When she had had time to recover her self-pos-
session, she joined her brother in offering the most
profuse apologies for her terrible mistake.
" Pray take back the shilling, madam," said the
Professor, in the most good-tempered manner pos-
sible. " When you give it away again, bestow it
on a more worthy and deserving object ; and — and
think no more about this matter," added the old
gentleman, who now pitied the poor spinster so
much, that he wished he had suffered the shilling
to remain in his pocket until the opportunity had
occurred for him to di'op it quietly into the Rector's
poor-box.
312 The Ca^nbridge Freshman; or^
" Oh, dear, Dorothea ! " groaned her brother ;
" if it had been Harriet, now — but you ! Oh, dear,
you ought to have known better ! "
" Dinner is served, ma'am," said Tuffley, the
butler, at this moment opportunely throwing open
the door of the drawing-room, and thrusting in his
portly person.
But poor Miss Dorothea was snuffed out for the
evening, and a damper thrown upon the spirits of
the company which they did not get over until the
dinner was nearly at an end ; although Dr. Fledgeby
did all he could to restore their equanimity by the
most affable and gracious behaviour he could as-
sume. The Rector's dry Clicquot, however, together
with the thoroughly good dinner which it accom-
panied, and the choice old Chateau Margaux that
followed the dinner, and the curious Port, worked
wonders ; and, by the time the carriage drove up to
the door to take them over to the county conver-
sazione at Fuddleton, everybody, with the solitary
exception of poor Miss Dorothea, had entirely re-
covered from the shock her ill-timed and ill-judged
benefaction had caused them.
When at last they arrived at the Shire Hall, at
Fuddleton, they found a brilliant company already
assembled. Everybody of scientific and antiquarian
tastes, every hunter after hric-d-hrac, every collector
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 31
o
of objects of art and xiertu, had contributed some-
thing to the general fund of amusement. The Hall,
lighted with numerous wax candles, was crowded
with persons of the first importance in Loarashire ;
and, altogether, the reunion may be described as a
complete success. Cases of preserved butterflies,
cabinets of minerals, pictures, antique armour and
articles of wearing apparel, astoundingly powerful
microscopes and electrical batteries, and apparatus
on a most magnificent scale, were brought together
to promote the enjoyment and happiness of the
general company — who, for the most part, knew
nothing at all about them, and cared less ; but ad-
mii'ed them very much. Our distinguished ac-
quaintance, Dr. Fledgeby, who was decidedly the
lion of the evening, suffered himself to be marched
about by his friends, and introduced to everybody
worthy of his recognition as " the distinguished
author of ' Mornings with the Mammoth and the
Mastodon*;" by which proceeding much kudos
was reflected upon the shining bald pate of the
Rev. Samuel Golightly, the hospitable entertainer
of the great man. The mayor, aldermen, and
town councillors of Fuddleton, who had it all their
own way in the morning at the Town Hall break-
fast, were now most appropriately ignored and
snubbed by the county people, who were on their
314
The Cambridge Freshman; or.
o^vn ground, and made the most of their undoubted
advantage.
Adolphus Golightly, of Oakingham Hall, Esq.,
with his daughters, Arabella and Georgina, and
THE SQUIRE AND LADY TATTLETON PRATT.
their brother George, were amongst the last arrivals
on the scene. Our hero at once made his way to the
side of his cousin Arabella, by whom he was intro-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 315
duced to her dear friend and former schoolfellow,
Miss Thomasine Jekyll, only daughter of Thomas
Jekyll, of Jekyll Place, Esq., who was on a visit at
the Hall. With these ladies on either side of him,
Mr. Samuel followed in the wake of the Squire, who
was behaving with the greatest gallantry imaginable
to old Lady Tattleton Pratt,^and listening with a
courteous ear to her not too good-natured remarks
concerning such of her acquaintance as she recog-
nized — and she knew pretty well all the county.
"Figgings," said the Lady Mayoress to her spouse,
" Figgings, we're nowhere here."
She had sat, by virtue of her own rank, next to
Lady Tattleton Pratt at the breakfast in the morn-
ing, and now her ladyship passed her by with only
the slighest inclination possible of her head of hair.
"Why not, Mariar]" asked his worship, angrily
— for he was equally as cognizant as his wife of the
unpleasant fact.
" If I was you, Mr. Figgings," continued the lady,
without deigning to reply to the question, " I'd assert
myself Though you don't happen to have your
gownd on, you're Mayor of Fuddleton, I suppose."
"Where shall I begin, my dear]" asked Mr.
Timothy Figgins. A happy thought struck him.
" Will you take anything, dear \ Here, attendant
— he's one of the sheriif's javelin men at the
3i6 The Camhndge Freshman; or,
assizes, Mariar — waiter, coffee for Mrs. Alderman
Figgins."
" Caffee nore, Figgings, sans late — for I never can
take cream at night, and sleep after it."
" Do you hear, sir X Caffee nore" thundered his
worship, in his most approved committing tone.
Our friend the Rector, in his triumphal progress
with the author of the " Elephant's True Place in
Nature," suddenly came face to face with the wor-
shipful pair.
" Mr. Alderman — a — a — Mayor of Fuddleton —
Dr. Fledgeby," said Mr. Golightly, politely, think-
ing it his duty to make these distinguished persons
known to each other.
Their civic and scientific eminences bowed to
each other.
" Mrs. Figgins, my wife — Dr. Fledgling," said
his worship, pointing with extended hand to his
lady, who was busy with her cup and saucer. "You
have done us a great honour by visiting Fuddle-
ton," said the Mayor.
" I hope you've all enjoyed yourselves, sir," said
the Mayoress.
The geologist assured Mr. and Mrs. Figgins that
the excursion party had been amply repaid for the
trouble they had taken by the curious natural phe-
nomena they had witnessed.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 317
"We shall find my son Samuel somewhere
about/' said the Rector, as they walked on. " I've
been looking for him all the while. He is at Cam-
bridge now, Dr. Fledgeby."
" He could not be at a better place," observed
the savant.
" He is a very observant, a very intellectual, and
most studious young man; and — and — I'm proud
of him," said his worthy father.
" You have every reason to be," said Dr. Fledgeby.
" Such traits of character lead to distinction. We
may predicate eminence — predicate eminence for
him, my dear sir."
" I hope we may, my dear doctor," replied the
Rector, willingly endorsing the remark of the man
of science. " He is so observant, and so curious,
that I am sure we shall discover him somewhere
engrossed in the study of the many wonderful things
displayed before us to-night ; or — "
"In the pursuit of science, I hope," said Dr.
Fledgeby, who loved to see about him young
recruits.
At this instant they came upon our hero, seated
comfortably on an ottoman, and occupied not so
much in the pursuit of science as in a most charm-
ing conversation with Miss Thomasine JekyU.
" I hope, my boy — and Dr. Fledgeby hopes —
,«
,i8
The Cambridge F^^eshman ; or^
you are availing yourself of the advantages around
you," said the Rector.
" I am, my dear father," said Mr. Samuel, blush-
i,,:i
OUR HERO DISCOVERED IN THE PURSUIT OF SCIENCE.
ing slightly, and continuing his conversation M'ith
the lovely and accomplished lady at his side.
" Eeally, I enjoy it almost as much as the
county ball," said Miss Jekyll.
Memoirs of ]\Ir. Golightly. 319
"More — 1 do," said our hero, glancing at iiis
fair friend with enraptured eyes.
" Are you fond of dancingl" she inquired.
" Not very — that is, not always. I am rather a
clumsy partner, I believe."
"Oh, Mr. Golightly, I can't think that. You
Cambridge men all know how to dance, I'm sure.
Now, tell me, is Cambridge a very, very wicked
placer'
" Oh, not at all," sighed our hero.
"I know you have some fine — larks, I think
you call them," said the lady, timidly. "I have
heard my cousin Tom say so. I don't know what
it means, you know."
" Of course not. It means fun. Miss Jekyll.
And I — I wish you'd come with Arabella and
Georgy. I don't know whether they will come
this next May; but if they don't. Uncle 'Dolph
has promised they shall come the May after that ;
and that is not so very far off, you know."
Miss Jekyll protested she should like it above
all things.
"You have dances therel*
"Yes; and there are the A. D. C, and the
boats, and — and — all sorts of things; though I
have not seen them myself, yet."
"It must be charming," said Miss Jekyll; "a
The Cambridge Freshman; or^
perfect paradise of novelty and surprises for those
who have never seen all the old colleges and
things."
&'
" It is," replied our hero, with enthusiasm light-
ing his brow.
"I'm sure, you are very comfortable, and luxu-
rious even, in your bachelor rooms. It makes me
envy you, when I hear my cousin Tom talk about
it. Men have everything worth having in the
world. I always used to wish I was a boy."
''And do you now?" asked Mr. Samuel.
"Well, not quite so much, I think. But we
must not talk any longer — here comes Arabella."
"You are forgetting the time altogether, I
think," said Miss Arabella. " We have been look-
ing everywhere for you."
"We have been here all the time," said our
hero.
When the time for the return to Oakingham
came, Mr. Samuel contrived to secure a seat in his
uncle's carriage, suggesting to the worthy Squire
that he might prefer the company of his brother,
the parson, and the two men of science ; whilst it
must be confessed his nephew vastly preferred the
society of his cousins, and their fair and fascinating
visitor.
On his safe arrival at the Rectory, our hero con-
Memoirs of Air. Golightly.
iessed that he could not recollect when he had
spent a more pleasant evening. He went to bed ;
and, in his dreams, science, shillings, and Miss
Thomasine Jekyll were mingled in a strange, but
not altogether unmeaning jumble.
322 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
CHAPTER XIX.
MR. SAMUEL ADOLPHIJS GOLIGHTLY MAKES THE
ACQUAINTANCE OF THE WHOPPER.
ilNCE we last had the pleasure of meetmg
our hero, the Lent and May terms have
glided happily by; the hot suns of the
long vacation have passed over his head, and we
renew our acquaintance with him at the beginning
of his second October term. No longer a Fresh-
man proper, but in aU the budding dignity of a
Junior Soph, Mr. Samuel is quite looked up to as
an old hand by various Freshmen of the year below
him. He has improved his opportunities of ac-
quiring a sound elementary knowledge of many
manly sports and pastimes. His whist, though by
no means good, shows a considerable advance on
what 't was when first he quitted Oakingham. At
billiards, such is his improvement, he now rarely
gives a miss; and he has acquired a knowledge of
the theory and practice of pool, under the express
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 323
tuition of Mr. Pokyr. This game he finds at pre-
sent exciting but expensive, as his lives go very
fast before the sure aim of such proficients as the
Captain T. F. O'Higgins and Mr. Pokyr. But
whilst as a sportsman generally our hero has made
rapid strides, his scholarlike attainments have been
rather on the decline. On a fine October morn-
ing, a few days after his arrival at St. Mary's, Mr.
Sneek, meeting our hero on the staircase, inti-
mated to him that his tutor wished to have a pri-
vate interview with him. Naturally, on hearing
this news, Mr. Samuel was thrown into a state of
considerable trepidation, in wondering what he
was about to be " hauled" for.
" He's had," observed Mr. Sneek, pointing in the
direction of the tutor's rooms, " a good many on 'em
up this mornin'. Mr. Popham was one."
" What is it for, Sneek?" said Mr. Samuel.
"That I do not know, sir. But," he added,
after a moment's reflection, " it must be for some-
think."
"Dear — oh, dear!" said Mr. Samuel, who had
been out to a quiet little supper the night before.
" My cap was changed for this disreputable thing
by some one or other. I must borrow George's or
Pokyr's."
They're both on 'em out, sir," said Mr. Sneek.
2
a
324 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" That cap '11 do, sir. Pull it off directly you go
m, sir.
So, straightening the battered board to the best
of his ability, Mr. Samuel proceeded at once to the
august presence of his tutor.
" Oh, Mr. Golightly," said the Rev. Mr. Bloke,
shaking hands with his pupil, " I wanted to see
you. You don't do very well at the lectures, the
lecturers tell me."
" No, sir," said Mr. Samuel, with much candour.
" Well, you know, you will have your examina-
tion here directly."
At the mere mention of this unpleasant fact,
our hero grew more uncomfortable; and, forgetting
that the cap he held was very slenderly attached to
the tassel, swung it about nervously, and without
in the least knowing what he was at.
" Yes, sir," he said.
"And don't you think you had better have a
private tutor, or you will be — "
"Plucked," said Mr. Golightly, smiling pain-
fully, and swinging his cap about by the tassel
more excitedly than before.
" Well, plucked was not the word I was going
to make- use of, Mr. Golightly, but it was what I
meant. You know, it is a serious thing."
" Yes, sir," said Mr. Samuel, now making his
Memoirs of ]\Ir. Golightly. 325
cap into a machine for illustrating the properties
of the centrifugal force, and causing it to describe
a complete circle in its revolutions round the tas-
sel, which was feebly secured to the rotten cloth
by a pin.
" And therefore, I think, everything considered,
you had better have a private tutor at once. Now,
you can go either to Mr. Major, or to some gentle-
man in the college. There are Mr. Brown, Mr.
Jones, and Mr. Kobinson — all very successful in
getting their men through. "Which should you
prefer, do you think?"
In a moment of fatal hesitation, ISIr. Samuel's
cap parted from the tassel, and, unhappily, caught
the Reverend Mr. Bloke a blow full under the
left eye. Our hero's alarm at such a catastrophe
may be more easily imagined than described.
" Dear me!" exclaimed the tutor, gasping, and
holding the place where the sharp corner of the
board had struck his soft and fleshy cheek, whilst
our hero picked up the offending missile, and
poured forth a profusion of apologies. " I'll see
you again, Mr. Golightly — I'm afraid I must
bathe it at once;" and with this mild reproof, the
reverend gentleman disappeared into his bed-
room.
"What do vou think I have doner' said our
326 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
hero, bursting into his friend Popham's rooms, and
relating his misadventure in a breath.
Mr. Popham cheered him as much as he could;
and some other gentlemen dropping in, conversa-
tion turned on the subject of " coaches." Mr.
Bloke had left Mr. Popham, like our hero, to
jhoose between Messrs. Major, Brown, Jones, and
"Robinson.
Gentlemen at Cambridge who are described, in
academical parlance, as those " qui honor es non am-
hiunt," are more commonly known as Poll men, for
they are many. Mr, Major, from his coaching ex-
clusively for the " Poll" degree, had acquired the
sobriquet of Poll Major, by which name he was
always known. Having made this necessary ex-
planation, we will now chronicle the conversation
which took place on this important subject.
" I strongly recommend you to go to Kobinson,"
said one of Mr. Popham's friends, who himself was
a " pup" of Mr. Robinson's. " He's a regular
brick. You can do just as you like: smoke your
pipe over your papers at his rooms — in fact, Eobin-
son's a brick."
" Do his men all passl " asked our hero.
" Very nearly all," replied Mr. Robinson's "pup,'
with emphasis.
" He's not half such a man as the Whopper."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly, 327
The " Whopper'^ was a favourite alias of Mr.
Poll Major's.
" I'll back the Whopper against any of them —
and I've coached with three or four. They've dif-
ferent ways of putting it into you; but old Poll i^
alwavs clear — there's no doubt about him."
"How do you mean"?" said Mr. Popham, much
interested in the merits of the rival preceptors,
who were all devoutly believed by their supporters
to be in possession of a Eoyal road to passing.
" Well, I mean this, you know," said the Whop-
per's " coachee" — a heavy, stolid-looking young
man from the shires. " Look here — you're doing
your classical subject. You come across some
darned thing or another you can't make out.
What's the good of a dictionary] Turn the word
up — what then"? Buttmann says it may mean this,
and Dindorff says it is supposed to mean that, and
Spitzner the other thing; but," said he, bringing
his fist down on the table with a crash, " give me
the Whopper. He tells you what it is!"
The value of such an instructor could not be
gainsaid; and, accordingly, both our hero and Mr.
Popham determined to throw up Messrs. Brown,
Jones, and Robinson, and enlist themselves under
the standard of Poll Major.
" His tips are worth any money," said the gen-
o
28 TAe Cainbrid^:'e Freshinan ; ^r,
tleman who had just favoured the company Mith
his views on disputed classical points. " I haven't
got through myself, certainly; but that's my fault,
not Poll's. His tips in arithmetic are something
splendid. I can do anything now at it, and regu-
larly stump the examiners. At my last Little Go,
I had this : — ' What ideas does the figure 7 convey
to your mindr Well, I stumped the beggars.
The AVhopper gave us the same question two days
before. There, now!" said his enthusiastic "pup,"
" what do you think of that? But," he continued,
with a melancholy pull at the pewter of beer by
his side, " that infernal Paley always floors me."
" I wish Paley had never written his confounded
' Evidences,' " said another.
"Ah!" sighed the first speaker, "if that had not
been done, somebody else would have written some-
thing worse for examiners to make you get up. I
used to wish Euclid had never been born; but it's
no good wishing such things — or you might wish
there were no examinations at all."
" I hate Paley as I hate the doose," observed the
young gentleman who had advocated the claims of
Mr. Robinson as a coach. *' I can't recollect the
stuff at all. I always mix the chapters up with one
another. I took the book in, but I'll be dashed if
I could tell where the answers were; and so I got
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 329
plucked in it, after getting through in everything
else."
" Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Poll Major's admirer, "you
should go to the Whopper. Needn't bother over
long chapters, or analyses that are worse than the
chapters themselves. Poll's got a system of his
own for Paley: reduces a chapter of thirty pages to
half a dozen lines. You can't forget, if you try."
"How'?" asked Mr. Samuel, with great interest.
" Why, here you are — here's the chapter all
about miracles. You can answer all the questions
out of this. The examiners always set some out
of it. This is what I call compression," said he,
triumphantly reciting the lines : —
"'Posterior ages — distant climes;
Transient rumours — naked rhymes;
Particular — otiose assent,
Affirmance of allowed event.
False perception — some succeed,
Some are doubtful — thousands feed.*
" Now," he continued, " I contend, if a fellow can't
remember that, he's a fool. Fifty different ques-
tions can be answered with that verse."
"Astounding !" said our hero.
" We'll take another chapter," said the former
speaker. " Don't they always ask, ' In what does
the Christian differ from all other religions?' Well,
330 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
here you are — "vvhole chapter in a nutshell. Take
you a week to get up a quarter of it — here you
have it in a second : — •
'No invisible world, no duties austere,
No impassioned devotion, no forwardness here;
No fashions depraved, no sophistical views,
No narrow mind this, like intolerant Jews';
This religion, and that from the hands apostolical,
Has no views political or ecclesiastical.'
" Well, now/' said the speaker, having glibly
repeated the Whopper's rhymes, " what more can
you have % "
" How very clever ! " said Mr. Samuel. "Pop-
ham and I have worked for days at that very chap-
ter."
" Ah ! and the beauty of it is, all the chapters
are just as easy. You can't forget the verses if
you try. But the doose of it is, you may put the
wrong ones to the questions, and you forget what
it's all about. But a memoria technicals a fine
thing."
That evening our hero — having previously
waited upon the Reverend Mr. Bloke, and made
fresh apologies for the wound he had inflicted in
the morning, and also announced his decision in
favour of Mr. Major — made his way to the Whop-
per's house. A great brick house, standing back
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 331
a few yards from the street, with a great front
door, and a bold brass knocker to it, was the abode
of the renowned Poll coach. The door stood a
little ajar, and our hero could see into the hall as
he stood waiting for the appearance of a servant in
answer to his knock. A strong odour of tobacco
came through the opening as he stood there. As
no one appeared, Mr. Samuel knocked again.
" Who's that knocking at the door T' demanded
a basso profundo from within.
Now, as our hero was a perfect stranger, it
seemed useless to reply " I," and equally im-
probable that the name of Golightly would be
known.
Before he had time to act, however, the voice
continued —
" You've all been told not to knock, times with-
out number ; " and, simultaneously with this re-
mark, a trim servant-maid came, and ushered our
hero into the presence of Mr. Poll Major.
When Mr. Golightly had stated his business to
Mr. Major, he looked about him.
The Whopper was a tall man, a stout man, and
a very jovial-looking man, and was seated in his
arm-chair by his fireside, smoking his pipe, and
drinking beer out of a flagon. Our hero had ex.
pected something more like his old tutor, Mr.
32
The Cambrids^e Freshman; or.
Morgan, than this BacchanaUan personage before
hira.
The Whopper spoke in a mighty voice—
!;i!!'A. kxC^ll;
^% mm
.l^i^-V.:
OUR HERO S FIRST INTERVIEW WITH POLL MAJOR.
" I beg your pardon, I'm sure, but I did not
know you were a stranger ; and we've hundreds of
fellows coming in and out, and if they did not let
'emselves in, we should have nothing else to do.
Metnoirs of Mr. Golightly. 333
Always walk straight in, and look about in the
rooms till you find me. I'll set you to work."
The Whopper now passed the beer to our hero,
and told him to sit doAvn. Mr. Samuel, having
taken a pull at the flagon, sat down opposite the
great man.
" Now," said Poll Major, smiling, " what don't
you know, Mr. Golightly V
Our hero did his best to tell his coach what
he knew, and left him to infer what he did not
know.
" I hope you will get me through, sir," said Mr.
Samuel.
" Ah, there's the mistake that's made ! You
must get yourself through. I shall do the same
for all of you. I think you will be all right."
Mr. Samuel asked why Mr. Poll Major came to
this conclusion.
" Well, sir," said the Whopper, smiling, " they
say "—puff— " that the Little Go"— puff, puff—
"is an inane attempt to fathom the" — puff' —
" depths of human ignorance. It may be. Now,
there are two sorts of ignorance. There's simple
ignorance — that's where a man doesn't know any-
thing in the world, and knows he doesn't know
anything. That's curable. Then there's compound
ignorance — that's when a man doesn't know any-
334 ^^^^ Cambridge Freshman; or,
thing, and doesn't know that he doesn't know any-
thing. You follow me ? "
" Perfectly," responded our hero.
" Well, Mr. Golightly, I'm in hopes your case
belongs to the former category."
" I hope so, sir."
" Well — now begin at once, is my motto. So
take this paper on Latin Accidence, and sit down
in the next room, and see what you can make of
it. By the time you haven't done it, a lot of men
will have come; and we shall begin the Cicero
and Paley for the Little Go."
In accordance with Mr. Major's instructions, our
hero went into the room indicated, took his seat at
the extreme end of the long table — covered with
baize once green, but now black with years of
ink-spots — and tried his hand at the Accidence
paper.
In half an hour, numbers of gentlemen came
trooping in, and the room was filled to overflow-
ing. Mr. Major, planting himself against the wall,
with one foot on a chair, and holding before him a
folio volume of Cicero, commenced his disquisition.
Having put the history of the period before his
pupils in terms as brief as the Paley verses before
enumerated, he proceeded to construe a chapter.
This done, he said —
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 335
" Now, gentlemen — look at your books, there.
Attention ! Come, Mr. Green, you can talk pre-
sently. Now, we will pick out a few of what I call
the hard words."
An instance illustrative of Mr. Major's theory of
compound ignorance soon occurred.
" Parts Q>iedo, Mr. Green."
" Edidi-editum ! " in breathless haste.
" You know the meaning ef edo here 1"
" Yes — to eat, of course."
" No — that's precisely what it isn't."
The next gentleman to Mr. Green having made
a successful shot at edo, the Whopper proceeded.
" What part of the verb is gerendum, Mic
Noodeir'
Mr. Noodel's gaze became riveted on his book,
but. he said nothing.
" Is it a gerund or a supinel"
« Supine."
" No."
« Gerund, then."
"Which'? There are three — di^ do, and dum.
Now, which is this % "
" Gerund in di"
"What! gexendum?"
" In do, then," replied the pupil.
" No."
The Cambridge FresJwian ; or,
" Well, then, in dumj''
"Ah! now you're right. You must be careful,
old fellow, or you'll never do for the examiners."
Matters proceeded pleasantly enough, enlivened
MR. MAJOR BRIDGING OVER EIGHTEEN CENTURIES.
by such episodes, to the end of the chapter. The
Paley was then begun ; and here, as it is not gene-
rally taught in public schools, the shots were much
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly 3,37
more wildly speculative than at the Cicero. The
Whopper took up his post on the hearth-rug, and
dictated the verse, to which he had reduced all that
was likely to be required of the chapter in hand.
Some of his illustrations were very original, and his
proofs unique, of their kind. He connected his
pupils Avith Apostolic times by stretching his legs
wide apart, observing, as he did so —
" Now, here we are in the nineteenth century —
right leg; left leg, first century, a.d. Well — now.
then, you perceive the connection between 'em."
And then Mr. Major stepped off the space of
eighteen centuries, twelve inches at a time, giving
a succinct history of the same as he went along.
His system was rapid, if not thorough. The Whop-
per was the very prince of crammers, and earned
;!^2,ooo a-year at it. Mr. Samuel found his lectures
quite as amusing as they were edifying.
33^ The Cambridge Freslujiaii ; or.
CHAPTER XX.
OUR HERO FINDS A SEAT IN THE SENATE HOUSE
PLACED AT HIS DISPOSAL.
N the nineteenth chapter of this authentic
history was laid before our readers a truth-
ful and graphic sketch of an hour spent
at a Poll Coach's lecture. Enough — it has been
said by our great Tupper, and, indeed, by many
smaller lights before him — is as good as a feast ;
therefore, we shall not ask our readers to accom-
pany us again, with Mr. Popham, our hero, and
others of their friends, to the matinees or soirees
held de die in diem by the Whopper. Suffice it for
our purpose to say that, all through that eventful
term, our hero, Mr. Samuel Golightly, steadily re-
garded all the mundane objects which presented
themselves to his gaze through a haze of Little Go.
Did he quaff his college ale : it smacked of the Pre-
vious Exam. Did he smoke the pipe of solace, or
puft" the fragrant cigar : they were flavoured with
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 339
Little Go. For Mr. Samuel sagaciously reflected,
that neither in his beer nor in his bacca would
there be comfort for him — if he missed his Exam.
" George," he said to his cousin, employing un-
wonted slang, " if I'm ploughed for this infernal
Exam., what will my Fa say? I can never look
Aunt Dorothea full in the face again."
"Don't be in a funk about it, Sam!" said his
cousin. " You're bound to do the examiners."
"Am I?" asked our hero, mopping a cold per-
spiration from his lofty brow. " I wish I felt sure
of it. The papers I may do all right, if I have good
luck ; but the mva voce is safe to stump me. I shall
be as n-nervous as a baby in arms, George," pro-
ceeded Mr. Samuel, in a sudden burst of perspira-
tion. "Coolness I have tried to make a practice of;
but I feel the courage that might serve to make a
man march up to the cannon's mouth without fear
is, in fact, nothing to what is wanted when one has
to sit down at a small table opposite an Examiner."
Many men fail to attain the success which is
within their reach through underrating the difficul-
ties with which they have to contend. It will be
seen, from the conversation quoted above, that this
was not our hero's case. As, day after day, he drew
his pen through one of the days that intervened
between him and his Little Go, he grew more ardu-
z 2
340 ^'^f? Cambridge Freshman; or^
ous in his application to the seven subjects of which
he would then have to display a competent know-
ledge.
During the last fortnight, he shut himself up like
an anchorite, and worked at his sums with the re-
gularity of one of Mr. Babbage's calculating ma-
chines. He attended twice daily at the Whopper's,
and covered quires of paper in expressing the ideas
conveyed to his mind by every one of the nine nu-
meral signs ; and even noughts were not neglected.
His mind became an arithmetical chaos, in which
vulgar and decimal fractions, compound practice,
and double rule of three heaved and tossed in vol-
canic eruption. Perpetual attention to his Paley
had inseparably mixed all the famous nine first
chapters in hopeless medley. It was only too plain
that his health was giving way.
Under these distressing circumstances, he told his
cousin George to write, in his next letter home, a
hint of his state of health; so that, in case of a
breakdown, he might at least have that excuse.
Mr. George's letter struck terror into the hearts
of the family at the Rectory. It was the first im-
pulse of the ladies to rush off to the rescue of their
dear knight, and snatch him from the clutches of
Vice-Chancellor and Dons. But the Rector's wiser
counsel prevailed. They remained at home. And
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 341
now the peculiar temperament of all the members
of the family circle exhibited itself in their methods
of treating "poor dear Samuel's" case. The Rec-
tor wrote a letter full of fine thoughts, couched in
finer language; Mrs. Golightly packed up and
despatched a goodly hamper of jams, and other
appetizing confections, for which she is justly cele-
brated; while the two maiden aunts did a still
wiser thing. Miss Dorothea wrote a note to her
nephew, in which she expressed her great regret at
his invalid condition, and her admiration of the
hard study that had brought it about ; and, further,
recommended him daily horse exercise. Such ad-
vice was kind, thoughtful, and eminently practical ;
but what was much more so was the cheque that
accompanied it. At the same time. Miss Dorothea
urged her nephew to bear up with spirit for the
examination, and, after it was over, purchase the
horse of his fancy.
These several marks of the affection of his family
considerably reassured our hero ; and on the event-
ful morning which ushered in the first day of the
examination, he was quite as calm as could be ex-
pected. He awoke in a state of feverish expectation
For him, breakfast was a hollow sham. With cap
awry, and gown half on, half off, and rapidly turn-
ing over the pages of his Euclid, Mr. Samuel made
542 TJie Cambridge Freshman; or,
his way along King's Parade, to the edifice at the
end of it, wherein the inquisitors await their vic-
tims. Our hero was among the first to put in an
appearance, and was conducted to the place pre-
pared for him by the senior bull-dog in attendance.
He now had time to look around him — for he had
pocketed his book on the steps of the Senate House.
His name, "■ Golightly, St. Mary's," was printed on
a little label, and stuck on the long table before
him. There were other Gs above him and below
him. Messrs. Pokyr and Popham presently took
their seats, almost close together, at another table.
He saAv many men he knew enter and take their
seats; but there was no friend near him. In a few
minutes the great Hall was full. The Examiners,
in their caps, gowns, and M.A. hoods, appeared on
the scene with bundles of papers, which they dis-
tributed along the tables. Then began a tremen-
dous scratching of pens, which never ceased till the
clock struck twelve, and the three hours were up ;
and—'
"Happy then the youth in Euclid's axioms tried,
Though little versed in any art beside."
To his own great astonishment, out of the twelve
questions on the paper, INIr. Samuel was able to
write out eight " props." to his entire satisfaction.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 343
The Whopper's " tip propositions " had all turned
up trumps ; and, as soon as the morning's work was
over, he rushed off exi;ltant to his Coach, whom he
discovered surrounded by "pups," who were de-
tailing, with appropriate animation or dejection,
how little or how much they had been able to do
of the morning papers ; wdiile others, whose turn
was still to come, w^ere busily getting up tips for
the afternoon.
Our hero next met his friend Popham, who was
exceedingly downcast in spirit. Although he had
taken in a number of " props.," ready written out
on Senate House paper, kindly supplied by friends
who had bagged it in previous Exams., such was
the exemplary vigilance of the Examiners and
their attendant myrmidons, the bull-dogs, that
poor little Percy Popham could never once " cheek
it," as he expressed it, to pull the papers out of his
trousers. He brought them out as he had taken
them in — though rather more crumpled, from lean-
ing heavily against them. As he put it, he " knew
well enough he was a dead pluck already ; " but
!Mr. Samuel encouraged him to go on, and not
give up so soon.
Mr. Pokyr was more lucky. He had adopted a
system of cribbing entirely his own — which, he
said, had " come off like a book." It consisted of
344 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
a series of scraps of paper, covered with micro-
scopic signs and symbols, which the ingenious in-
ventor, probably, alone coiil^. decipher. Next day,
Paley came on for discussion. Again our hero
wrote away for three hours with great rapidity;
and, as he counted twenty sheets of paper scribbled
over, felt sure he had " done enough." Mr. Pokyr
took " Coward's Analysis " in — and used it, while
the Examiner read the Revue de Deuce Mondes.
Mr. Popham answered six questions ; but, un-
fortunately for him, the Examiner in this subject,
Mr. Blunt, had not the least taste for poetry, and
Percy's answers were metrical. They consisted
entirely of the Whopper's memoria technica verses,
a specimen of which we have already given.
Arithmetic, the day after, passed off easily for
everybody, as the gentleman who set the paper —
the incumbent of a college living close to Cam-
bridge — was a merciful man, deeply versed in
classic lore, and possessing a natural dislike to
figures. Accordingly, his questions were simple,
and his standard low.
Then came the horrors of classics, Latin and
Greek, the pitfalls of Greek Testament, and the
ordeal of viva voce examination. Our hero felt
afraid that his performances in translation were
anything but up to the mark. Mr. Pokyr, who
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 345
had employed a little boy to read the cribs through
to him daily for a week before — and took the
books in besides — admitted he had " got through
everything sKck," while Mr. Popham confessed to
having done more than he expected.
AVhen our hero saw man after man coming back
from the terrible vwa voce, when every minute
brought him nearer the dreaded vis-d-vis with an
omniscient M.A., he felt absolutely ill. His turn
came. He marched into the middle of the hall, and
seated himself opposite Savage, of Magdalen. Mr.
Savage had the reputation of plucking nine shaky
men out of ten. Our hero trembled ; his cheeks
flushed, and his tongue became dry. Opposite
him sat a cadaverous and wholly unsympathetic
personage, who positively leered with diabolical
malice over his white choker at the prospect of
another victim.
" Mr. Golightly, St. Mary's," said Mr. Savage,
without looking up from his list of names.
" Y-yes, sir," gasped our hero, faintly.
" Look at the fifth verse — where the pencil
mark is — and read four verses."
Mr. Golightly read four verses of the " Gospel
according to St. Mark."
" Go on — translate," said the merciless voice of
his tormentor.
34^ The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
Our hero stammered through the verses. No
motion, no word, no sound came from the Exa-
miner to say right or wrong to what he did.
Mr. Savage simply sat and stared. Presently he
spoke. It w^as in a sepulchral tone.
" There is a reference here to Angels."
" Y-yes," gasped our hero, looking wildly for it
in his book.
He had lost the place for the third time.
" Can you tell me how Angels are first men-
tioned by name ?"
Mr. Samuel pressed his brow, and thought.
Verses and texts, familiar friends, rose in his
troubled mind ; but as yet he racked his memory
in vain.
Suddenly his hand fell, his eye lighted. As if
by inspiration, he had it.
" ' Legion,' " he gulped out, " ' for we are
many.' "
Mr. Savage smiled — horribly.
Our hero felt his foot was in it.
" I will ask you another question referring to
Scripture history," said the Examiner, awfully.
"In verse seven, we read of a 'merciful man,'
Whom do you recollect as the most merciful man
mentioned in Old Testament history."
Again did our hero think — deex^ly, silently.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 347
Seconds flew by, and Mr. Savage only read his
list. He gave no hint — no sign.
" Og," at last timidly suggested Mr. Samuel.
" Who, sir?" demanded his questioner, angrily.
" Og, the King of Bashan, sir."
" Why, sir \ "
" B-because — I mean, ' F-for his mercy endureth
for ever.' "
" That will do, sir. Send up the gentleman
who sits next you."
And our hero's Greek Testament m-ca voce was
over.
He got through his two other similar ordeals in
the same morning, and left the Senate House as
full of fears and hopes as a maiden in her first
love.
At Mr. Poll Major's, he found Mr. Pokyr and
other friends assembled, talking in a jubilant key.
" I know I've floored the beggars this time,"
said Mr, Pokyr.
" That's all right," returned the Coach, who was
not so satisfied of a successful result as his pupil.
" Now you had better look up your Mechanics, as
you mean to go in for the next General."
" No more work this term, sir," said Mr. Pokyr,
quite aftectionately ; " besides, I know my Mecha-
nics better than anything."
348 The Cambridge Fresllniaii; or,
" Now, here's the first question," said the Whop-
per, reading from a paper in his hand. " Tell us
how you do that!"
" What is it \ Gravitation % ' If a pin be placed
perpendicularly, with the thinner extremity, com-
monly called the point, downwards, on a horizontal
plane surface — as, for instance, a mirror ' — it won't
stand. Why does it fall, and all that "? Well, now,
look here ! I should deal with that in this way.
If a pin were placed on a mirror with the thicker
extremity, commonly called the head, downwards,
it would not stand. Therefore, a fortiori, it won't
stand on its thinner extremity, commonly called the
point!"
" That'll never do," said the Whopper, laugh-
ing.
" I know the Examiners like the light of nature.
Look here— in my Greek Test, paper they asked
me to make a map tracing the course of the river
Jordan. I couldn't do that, you know. Went on
to the next. ' What is the modern name of the
country on the other side of the Jordan T Well,
my answer was, ' It all depends upon which side of
the river you stand, you know.' So it does, of
course. Scored there, I think. Tickle the Exa-
miner's fancy. ' Clever fellow that Pokyr, of St.
INIary's — let him through.' "
Memoirs of Mr. G alight ly. 349
" Well, good-bye, old fellow," said the Coach,
shaking his precocious pupil by the hand. " See
you again next term, I suppose % I hope you're all
through."
" Now, Golightly," said Mr. Pokyr, linking his
arm through that of his friend, " we will go down
to old Wallop's stables, and look at what he has
got."
" Very well, Pokyr," returned ]Mr. Samuel. " I
rely on your judgment, mind, for I never bought a
horse before in my life."
So they strolled down to Mr. Wallop's together.
" What sort of a boss is it, Mr. Pokyr, as your
friend wants'?" asked the dealer, who had been
roused from his after-dinner nap to see his cus-
tomers.
*' Let us see what you have got, Wallop," said
Mr. Pokyr, warily.
An ancient, charger, that had seen service in the
yeomanry, was forthwith led out for inspection.
'' Won't do. Wallop," was Mr. Pokyr's remark.
" He aint much to look at, but he's all over qua-
lity," remarked the dealer. " Look at the way he
carries his head— and his tail an' all, for the matter
of that. Don't like him! Well, bring out that
little Irish cob I gave such a price for the other
day." .
350
The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Mr. Pokyr mounted the cob.
*' Quiet — like a lamb," said the dealer.
"Not much in front of you," said the connois-
seur.
"what, dont you like him?"
*' No; and there aint much behind you either, is
there] — and that's a balance."
"Goes rather dotty V
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
351
" Sound as a roach."
The gray's merits having been disposed of, a
groggy bay horse was produced.
"HE CARRIES YOU BEAUTIFUL!"
"What! don't you like UmV asked Mr. Wal-
lop, in a marveUing tone of voice. "Why, that
hoss can jump Hke a kitten; clever at his fences;
never stumbled in his life. He's the best roadster
352 The Cmnbridge Freshman; or,
in the county. Meant to keep him for myself.
Never was sick nor sorry in his life. 'Appy 'orse
'e is — never off his feed. Sound as a bell of
brass."
These remarks were jerked out, one at a time;^
in reply to remarks of Mr. Pokyr's.
Our ]iero, at Mr. Wallop's wish, mounted this
unique specimen of horseflesh. The animal re-
sented the liberty by refusing to go one step for-
wards, and by backing, at a great pace, against the
stable wall, and nearly jerking Mr. Golightly out
of the saddle.
" Only his play — ^just at starting," observed Mr.
Wallop. *' He carries you beautiful! Look at his
head — always up in the air, showing hisself off ! I
call him a gentleman's horse — that's what I call
him."
Probably our hero's innocent and unsuspecting
appearance had made Mr. Wallop parade these
"crocld^" — as Pokyr termed them — for his inspec-
tion; for the wily dealer soon found " metal more
attractive" in a showy little bay cob, rising six, and
very taking in all his paces.
" That will do," said our hero, giving his friend
a nudge.
After some half an hour or so spent in trying the
animal, discussing his various merits, and haggling
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 353
over the price, the bay cob became the property of
Mr. Golisrhtlv at the moderate fii^ure of forty-five
pounds.
" And now, I ask, where is he a-going to stan'
at livery, sirr' said Mr. Wallop, addressing our
hero ; " for that cob, he's so sweet on his quarters
here, that he'll never be easy in his mind nowhere
else in Cambridge."
AVith a promise that, when his master was up,
his horse should inhabit the box so necessary to his
happiness and tranquillity, our hero and his Mentor
left the establishment of Mr. Isaac Wallop, licensed
dealer in horses.
2 A
354 ^'^^^ Cariibridge Freshman; or.
CHAPTER XXI,
OUR HERO SPENDS THE EVENING AT A
PERPENDICULAR.
R SAMUEL GOLIGHTLY and his new
purchase arrived safely at Oakingham, on
the day after the events recorded in our
last chapter. Miss Dorothea expressed herself per-
fectly satisfied with the use that had been made of
her cheque ; and all the family were astonished to
see our hero looking so well, after the trying cir-
cumstances in which he had, for some time past,
been placed.
It was on the neat little bay cob he had pur-
-chased of Mr. AVallop that Mr. Samuel trotted
over to the market town of Fuddleton, on the
third day after his arrival at home. An intelligent
observer might have noticed a considerable amount
of excitement in his demeanour; and it must be
confessed that, as they splashed along over the
soi^' sountry roads, the bay got more cuts from our
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 355
hero's whip than he either desired or deserved.
Mr. Samuel rode boldly into the yard of the prin-
cipal inn, where the family were in the habit of
" putting up," as it is termed, when they made a
stay of an hour or so in the town of Fuddleton
— which event commonly happened once a-week,
usually on a Saturday, that being market day.
Having dismounted, and refreshed himself with a
glass of bitter beer, our hero made his way to the
new telegraph office— which is situate in the
Market-square — and, with as much confidence *of
manner as he could assume, demanded of the clerk
in attendance there, if there was any telegram for
Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly. The official at
first did not condescend to make any reply— after
the manner of his class — being disposed to treat
the public generally in the light of impertinent in-
truders upon his particular privacy and retirement.
The personage whom we have called the official
was a sallow-faced and grimy youth of about nine-
teen or twenty. He was engaged — it being just
about twelve o'clock — in the engrossing occupation
of eating bread and cheese out of a piece of news-
paper, and was evidently amused with something
he was reading as he ate ; while his junior — the
little boy who carried out the messages — eyed him
with envious gaze.
2 A 2
35^ The Cambridge FresJnnaH ; or,
Mr. Samuel, who was never impatient or domi-
neering, Avaited until the clerk thought proper to
notice his remarks.
•' No, there aint," was the answer he received.
•' Well, I expect a message this morning," said
our hero.
" If it's sent, it'll come," remarked the official, in
the intervals at which the bread and cheese allowed
him to speak. " It aint come yet."
As there was no seat in the office, and no parti-
cular encouragement to remain leaning on the
counter, Mr. Samuel returned to his inn, and there
partook of a second glass of bitter beer, and per-
formed an exploit which he would have been quite
incapable of before he went up to the University —
namely, addressed some highly complimentary ob-
servations to the pretty and affable barmaid at the
Stag. Half an hour after his iirst visit, he made a
second journey to the office, and repeated his former
question.
The machine was clicking away, and the needle
rapidly spelling out its message.
" It's now come," said the clerk, who had finished
his bread and cheese.
Mr. Samuel seized the piece of yellow paper on
which the clerk had transcribed the message, and
read —
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 357
*' Sneek, Cambridge, to S. A. Goli(jht{y, Esq,,
Fuddleton.
" Goliffhtli/, first class ; Pokj/r, second ; Pop-
ham, plucked."
"Good gracious !'* said our hero, as he folded
the paper, and put it away in his pocket for further
perusal. " This is better news than I expected."
And then, thinking of his friend, who had not been
so successful, he added — " What will poor Popham
do when he hears the news?"
He returned to the Stag, mounted his cob, and
rode as gaily into Oakingham as ever he had done
in his life. The good news that our hero was
through his Little Go was received at the Rectory
with manifest symptoms of delight on all sides ; and
everybody coincided in regarding Mr. Samuel in
the light of a prodigy of learning and steadiness.
Our friend, the Rector, was perfectly satisfied ; and
testified his contentedness — when the Standard,
containing the list, arrived at Oakingham next day
— by making his son the object of an appropriate
complimentary speech.
The vacation passed rapidly away, and our hero
soon found himself back again at Alma Mater.
Here he met all his old friends; congratulated
Mr. Pokyr, and condoled with Mr. Popham.
35S The Cambridge Freshma7i; or^
The latter was reading hard for a second attempt;
while the former, out of play-hours, was busily en-
gaged upon an elaborate series of cribs for his Ge-
neral, constructed upon an improved system.
One day, as our hero was quietly sitting at lunch,
he heard an excited rap at his door, and in rushed
Mr. Eustace Jones, his neighbour overhead, making
profuse apologies for the intrusion — the reason of
which our hero could not quite comprehend. Si-
multaneously, Mr. Sneek appeared on the leads
outside the window, and something buff kept flap-
ping blindly against the panes of glass.
Then our hero learnt that Mr. Jones's owl had
escaped, and was the cause of all the commotion.
When the bird had been secured by Sneek, Mr.
Jones entered into some particulars of the origin
and growth of his great affection for British birds,
which had led him to try to tame an owl. A few
days after, the sly old bird — taking advantage of
an open window, after dusk — bade its master adieu,
with a loud " Too-whit, too-whoo!" which echoed
through the silence of the great quad. The mathe-
matician's next venture was a hawk, properly se-
cured against nocturnal flights by having had one
of its wings operated upon by our old acquaintance
Mr. Gallagher, who supplied him.
" If you please, sir," said the garrulous Mrs.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 359
Cribb to our hero, " you reclec' Mr. Jones's bird
bein' caught in your room'?"
" Yes, Mrs. Cribb," said our hero.
" He's got another now," said the old lady, put-
ting her finger in her mouth, and sucking it affec-
tionately. " Which, 'xcuse me, sir, a Howl I did
not mind, but a Nawk I can't abear."
" Oh," said our hero, " you don't like the hawk,
Mrs. Cribb! Perhaps you don't like birds'? Why,
I was very nearly being tempted to buy a parrot
myself, the other day."
" I do not dislike no gentleman's pets, sir, but
birds of prey bites horrible, and parrits is inclined
to peck when your eye aint on 'em. But, I beg
your pardon — here's this note the Master's servant
just gev me, and asked me to give to you."
Our hero found that Dr. and !Mrs. Oldman re-
quested the pleasure of his company on Thursday
evening, at half-past eight o'clock. This was the
first occasion on which he had been honoured with
an invitation to a Perpendicular, as such entertain-
ments are styled.
Punctually at a quarter past nine on the evening
in question, with his arm linked in that of Mr.
Pokyr, our hero rapped at the door of the Master's
Lodge. It was a curious, rambling old building,
of all dates and stvles — a long succession of Masters
^6o The Cambridge Freshman; ur,
o
of St. Mary's having lived in it, and added to it, or
taken from it, according to their particular notions.
Our friends were conducted by Dr. Oldman's portly
butler up a fine old oak staircase, into a very long
and charming antique picture gallery, hung with
many portraits of interest, from the Founder of the
College downwards. Here Mrs. Oldman — a lady
of the most prepossessing appearance and manners,
many years younger than her husband — was re-
ceiving her guests. Presently, a string of a dozen
gentlemen marched up from dinner in Indian file,
the stout person of the Master of St. Mary's bring-
ing up the rear.
There were among them a bishop, a great poet,
our old friend Dr. Fledgeby, and other University
magnates.
A move was now made for the drawing-room,
which communicated with the gallery. Here, our
hero had an opportunity of discovering the mean-
ing of the title by which these entertainments are
known among the undergraduates, as he remained
in a perpendicular attitude, with nobody to talk to,
for an hour and a half.
At last, Mrs. Oldman presented him to an old-
looking young lady, in amber silk, who occupied a
prominent position on an ottoman in the centre of
the room.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 361
This lady at once asked our hero if he was a
mathematical man, intimating that her name was
Hart, and that her father was the astronomer of
that name, and had been Senior Wrangler in
his year; and that she would have been Second
Wrangler herself if she had been permitted to go
in for the examination, as her father made her
work all the Senate House papers in " her year,"
as she termed it.
When she discovered that Mr. Samuel knew
nothing of those high branches of mathematics in
which she delighted, Miss Hart's interest in him
was gone, and conversation flagged accordingly ;
while, on his part, our hero could not form a very
favourable opinion of mathematical ladies.
Music, vocal and instrumental, having been given
in abundance, the great poet, at half-past eleven,
made a move for bed. Dr. Fledgeby wished his
old colleague, the Master, and his lady, good night,
and a general move was made into the picture gal-
lery again, where a cold " stand up " supper was
laid out — the table being decorated with numerous
decanters of the worthy doctor's curious old wine.
Our hero had the pleasure of seeing the poet eat a
sandwich, and of pouring out a glass of water for
Mrs. Bishop. Her right reverend husband partook
of the same light refreshment; and the general
362 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
company having retired, nobody was left but the
undergraduates of the college who had been
honoured with the doctor's invitation.
They settled down upon the viands and the
claret with laudable determination ; while the
Master of St. Mary's and Mrs. Oldman stood by
the huge open fireplace, and looked benignly on,
and talked at intervals about the college boat. The
fifteen vigorous young gentlemen who represented
the undergraduate interest on the occasion, having
eaten their supper, shook hands with the doctor
and Mrs. Oldman ; and, as they fought in the hall
for their caps and gowns, declared " Old Tubbs " —
as the Master of St. Mary's was affectionately styled
in the collegiate corporation over which he reigned
— " was a jolly old brick, and his wife the nicest
lady in the 'Varsity."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 36
CHAPTEE XXIL
OUR HERO HAS DEALINGS WITH A JETV.
jHE present historian and biographer cannot
help perceiving that it is something of an
anomaly to call his hero a Freshman at
this advanced stage of his academical career. The
same notion may have crossed the minds of some of
his readers; and it is only doing justice to that
amiable and appreciative body to inform them that
the author is painfully aware of his shortcomings
in this and other matters. However, to resume our
history.
It was May, with all its associations of grass lamb
and spinach, buttercups and daisies; more than that,
it was late in the month — nigh on the Derby Day,
in fact — and Cambridge at the end of May is seen
at its best. The Carnival is kept then. Then the
ancient town wears its gayest colours ; and the men
run up astounding tailors' bills for plumage where-
with to dazzle the lovely girls who come to see
364 The Cambridge Ft esJwian; or.
them, with sedate and ponderous Pas and Mas in
their train.
The windows of our friend Mr. Fitzfoodel's rooms
opened on to the Parade. His habitat was on the
first floor, and the window of his sitting-room af-
forded a lounge at once comfortable and amusing.
His numerous friends availed themselves freely of
the advantages of this seat of an afternoon, idly
drinking iced Cup, and gazing at the various per-
sonages who strolled along the pavement in the sun.
Friends and acquaintances passing along came
in for a kindly nod ; little eccentricities of 'person-
nel were received with a wild halloo, worthy of a
troop of Mohocks ; objectionable cads were playfully
pelted with the debris of the luncheon table ; while
favourites in the money-lending and cricketing in-
terests were invited upstairs, to refresh themselves
with a " swig " at the beer tankard.
" Most confounded baw," remarked Mr. Fitzfoo-
del in his drawling way, holding out a note penned
by the fair fingers of his sister.
"What's that. Jockey 1" asked Mr. Chutney—
who, in a morning coat, with gorgeous monogram
buttons down it, which coat encased a gorgeous
blue and pink shirt, with startling studs in the
front, lounged in a charming neglige attitude in the
window seat. *' What's a baw, old boy T'
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 365
" Everything baws me, Tommy," replied his friend.
*' I declare, no matter what I do to protect myself,
I'm always being victimized."
On the tragic stage, Mr. Chutney would have
pulled a face as long as a well-known stringed in-
strument, and ejaculated, in orotund voice, "Alas!"
In real life, of course, he laughed at his friend's
misery. But Mr. Calipee, who was one of the
company, readily sympathized with poor Mr. Fitz-
foodel's troubles.
" Just my case, Fitz," he sighed.
"What's the row, then — in the note, I mean?"
asked Mr. Pokyr, bluntly coming to the point.
" Well, I never was a family sort of fellow, Jack,"
replied their host. " I mean, some fellows are in-
timate, you know, at their homes, and all that. I
never was — "
"Poor dev vie!"
" When I was a boy at Harrow, I always hated
going home for the ' vacs.' Feeling's grown on me.
Got a prodigal father, you see — try to be a forgiving
son, and all that; but there are things human
nature can't stand."
Mr. Pokyr playfully snatched the note from his
friend's hand at this stage of his homily.
"Oh — people coming up, that's all. Sisters
coming 1"
366 The Cambridge Freshmaii; or,
" Father — mother — brother — sisters — all at one
fell swoop," gasped Mr. Fitzfoodel. " Calipee, sup-
port me. What was that broke the thingamy's
backr'
" The — a — a — ^1-last straw," said our hero, ever
ready with his apt quotation.
"Ah, Golightly, minor — as we should have called
you at school if we had known you then — my back
is broken now."
Perceiving at once that this was pleasantry on
Fitzfoodel's part, Mr. Samuel laughed ; and as his
laugh was very good-natured and very hearty, every-
body caught it, and laughed too — till Mr. Fitzfoo-
del, their entertainer, began to feel himself a wit.
" Curiously enough," said our hero, " my people
are coming up too, this term ; for my Fa and Ma,
and both my aunts, are very anxious to come to
Cambridge in the race week."
" Miss Jekyll is staying at your house, I think?
I suppose she'll come to complete the party," ob-
served Mr. Pokyr.
At this remark, our hero was observed to blush
deeply.
*' I only thought she might be, you know," added
his friend.
Two London costers, with a cart-load of plants
Memoirs of Mr. GolightLy. 367
in bloom, uttering their familiar cry in an unfami-
liar place, next engaged the attention of our party,
"All a-blowin', a-growin' — a-blowin', a-growin' —
a-growin', a-blowin' ! There, gentlemen, buy a few
pots o' nice flowers."
" How much for the lot?"
" These here three pots four shillin's, sir. There
— a old pair o' bags, your honour, sir."
As it was evident, after some further parleying,
that no business was likely to be done — the older
coster of the two remarking to his partner that
" These gents wor too full of chafi" to be up to any-
thing ; " and further, as it was evident the flowers in
the cart would be watered gratuitously — the con-
tents of one jug had already wetted the road — the
flower cart drove slowly on.
Our hero was leaning a little way out of the win-
dow, when a greasy voice struck his ear.
" I knows a real genelman when I sees one. Beg
pardon, sir — how do, sir — you reelects me % I sold
you a beautiful parrot last term, sir."
It was true. The Jew, who, on his last visit, had
brought with him an aviary on wheels, now ap-
peared stocked with real fur rugs and noble pairs
of horns. Our hero fought rather shy of a renewal
of business relations with this child of the favoured
race, the last transaction having been against him
•^68 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
— for he bought a bird one day, described as " the
best talker in the world, but a leetle shy afore
strangers," for three pounds and a heap of old
clothes ; and was glad to change him a day or two
after, on payment of three pounds more, for a bird
that really could talk.
"Who's your friend, Golightlyr' asked Mr.
Pokyr.
" It's only the man I bought my parrot of last
term," replied our hero.
" Buy a nice pair o' horns, sir, to-day \ Do, sir
— take anything for 'em. Old clothes, sir — old
boots — anything. Looks 'andsome in a room, or
over a door, they do."
"Not to-day — future occasion, perhaps," said
Pokyr. "Be off!"
As fate would have it, the Jew vendor of buffalo
horns met our hero close to St. Mary's, and offered
his tempting wares in his most seductive manner.
" Not to-day," said Mr. Samuel, hurrying along.
But who ever could shake off a merchant of the
seed of Israel, whose keen eye to profit urged him
on? In a moment of weakness our hero listened —
hesitated — was lost !
"Well, come up to my rooms; perhaps I might
buy a pair — that is, if they're very cheap."
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 369
" Cheap as dirt, sir ; but I dursen't go into the
college, sir, with you. I've been put out afore —
often."
" Well, then, never mind," said Mr. Golightly.
" 'Xcuse me, sir — is one o' them your windows'?"
said the Israelite, pointing to a row of windows
within easy reach of the ground, in St. INIary's-lane.
" That is my window."
" I aint a-going to try for to get through, bein'
narrow — though I dessay I've got pals as could,"
said the Jew, eyeing our hero's lattice in a business-
like manner. " But just come and talk to us out
o' the vinder, your honour."
Our hero did so.
" I never brought such horns and skins up here
afore, sir. These are the real thing this time.
They're the sort that always used to be kept on
purpose for the London market; but now we gets
some of them for the country," observed the itine-
rant vendor of natural curiosities.
" How much do you want for that pair?" asked
Mr. Samuel, leaning out of his window.
" This here pair of beauties, sirT'
" No, the other pair — those under your arm, I
mean."
" O — h," said the Jew, winking with each eye,
and smiling in his most captivating way. " I
P B
370 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
like to deal with you, sir — now that I do. You
know a good article when you see it, sir. Now,
that pair of horns as you've picked out is the finest
I ever see in my life. What a eye you've got
"HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT FOR THAT PAIR?"
Our hero's firmness began to give way under
this fire of delicate flattery.
" How much do you ask for them?" he de-
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 371
manded, trying to hide a smile, lest the Jew should
put on something extra on the strength of his being
in a good humour.
" I am giving them away at anything under
thirty shillings, sir — there!" said the dealer, strik-
ing an imposing attitude, and putting the horns
under his arm.
The intention obviously was to convey to our
hero's mind the impression that any attempt at
abatement on his side would be rejected by the
Jew, who would march off to find a better market
for his wares.
Mr. Golightly, however, had profited by his ex-
perience over the parrot bargain.
"Ten bob, I think, is what they're worth. I
don't care about them at all."
At this the Jew put up one of his shoulders^
ducked his head, and laughed a long laugh of de-
rision.
At last, however, after some chafi'ering, a bar-
gain was struck for the best pair of horns, at ten
shillings and three pairs of trousers.
First, Mr. Moses put the half-sovereign into his
pocket, and then stowed away the three pairs of
trousers in his capacious sack.
Our hero demanded his pair of horns, and was
much surprised to find that his own way of count-
2 B 2
o
72
The Cambrido;e Fi'eshman; or,
ing and that of Mr. Moses differed considerably
— the latter gentleman calling Greens to witness
that " all he'd had was half a quid and two pair o'
bags."
A SPIRITED GAME OF PULL JEW, PULL GENTLEMAN.
Having both horns and "bags," he had the
best of the argument; and our hero reluctantly
found him another pair of trousers — keeping hold
Memoirs of ]\Ir. Golightly. 2>7
O/ 3
of the upper extremity, while the Jew seized the
lower. Having now the horns and half the "bags,"
our hero — to play the merchant a trick — began to
haul them up; and, for a second or two, a spirited
game of " Pull Jew, pull Gentleman" was played
between them.
It terminated in favour of the Oriental, owing
to the ill-timed advent of the tutor of St. Mary's
round the corner.
" Mis-ter Go-light-ly," exclaimed the Reverend
Mr. Bloke — "this is shocking indeed!"
Instantly recognizing his tutor's measured ac-
cents, our hero relinqtiifthed the " bags," and drew
in his horns at the window ; and waited in breath-
less expectation for a message that he felt certain
would soon arrive.
Mr. Sneek put in his head at the door.
" If you please, sir, ^Ir. Bloke wishes to see you
immediate, sir — if you please."
^Sk.
374 The Ca7nbridge FresJwian; or.
CHAPTER XXIII.
MR. GOLIGHTLY RECEIVES FRIENDS.
R. SAMUEL ADOLPHUS GOLIGHTLY
responded at once to the summons of his
tutor. Hastily donning his cap and gown,
he visited the angry Don — who declared, in forcible
though strictly tutorial language, that, in the whole
course of his experience as the friend and guide of
the youth of St. Mary's, it had never been his lot
to witness anything half so shocking. Our hero
was prudently silent — remembering the well-worn
adage, ^' qui s' excuse s^ accuse;'' so he sat on the ex-
treme edge of the chair, and looked as penitent as
he could.
" Had it been an after-dinner freak, Mr. Go-
lightly, I should not have been so much surprised.
But in broad daylight, and before the whole town
—if they chose to be spectators of such a scene ! —
.Shocking ! Really, I am surprised."
Here came a pause of a quarter of a minute.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 375
But our hero could think of no defence— having
oeen caught in flagrante delicto, by the Eeverend
Mr. Bloke himself.
" And such a clever evasion of rules I have so
stringently laid down. I have ordered the porter
at the gate never to admit any one of those itinerant
characters within the college walls. I never thought
of the possibility of a gentleman handing his dis-
carded garments out of the window."
" That was the Jew, sir," faintly remarked Mr.
Samuel.
" Doubtless," said his tutor. " It is not the sug-
gestion so much as the compliance with it that I
complain of I hope I shall never have to speak
of such a breach of all rules of decorum again."
Mr. Golightly heartily promised that he would
never hold dealings with Jew or Gentile from out
his window again ; and having made this promise,
was dismissed with the customary tutorial blessing.
"I hope you aint gorn and gort gated, nor
nothins: for it, sir," said Mr. Sneek. " Not that I
ever wear coloured bags myself, and Mr. Slater's
things — wdiich fit me to a T — is always kindly
given ; but I hate to see a gentleman dealing with
a Jew. It's odds on 'em, sir. Do you think they'll
be be't by gentlemen 1 No!" exclaimed the gyp,
with a proper degree of conviction in his tone.
3/6 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
"'and bless me!" he continued, "three pah' of
bags !"
Our hero had said nothing of the fourth pair,
surreptitiously obtained.
" — Three pair and ten shillings for them horns !
I could have bought you as good a pair for seven
and sixpence, and no bags at all."
Mrs. Cribb — who particularly disliked allowing
Sneek to have a private audience of any of their
half-dozen masters — now came in on the pretence
of having some trifling thing to do. The conversa^
tion that was going on interested her so much, that
she felt it her duty to remain.
*' I expect my people up," said our hero.
" Certainly, sir."
" I should like to give a large wine or something
the first night, just for my father to come to, and
see how we do it, and whether there has been any
improvement made since he was an undergra-
duate."
" To be sure, sir," said Sneek.
" Or a supper, sir," suggested Mrs. Cribb, with
an eye to larger perquisites. " Poor Polly, then-
Poll Parrot like a supper 1 Pretty Poll!"— the
old lady stood by the cage. " Scratch a Polly's
poll, then. Oh! my goodness me, how you do
bite 1"
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 2)77
It was indeed extraordinary how clear was
Polly's perception of Mrs. Cribb's hypocrisy, and
with what settled determination he waited for the
moment when her finger was timidly put inside his
cage.
"Naughty bird!" said the bedmaker, shaking
her head, while the parrot gave a shout of tri-
umphant satisfaction, shrill and loud, which rang
through the room.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Cribb. "I never
shall get poor Polly to take to me."
"Take to her, indeed!" said Mr. Sneek, with
scornfully indignant emphasis, when she had left
the room. " I wonder if Cribb would take to any-
body herself as was always giving of her pokes in
the ribs with a paper knife."
" You don't mean to tell me that Mrs. Cribb
thrashes my bird !" cried our hero.
" I do though, indeed, sir; and orfen I've thought
to myself, ' Sneek,' I've thought, ' it's your dooty to
tell Mr. Samwell Adawlphus Golightly of this here
misconduct of Betsy Cribb's."
" Certainly it was, Sneek."
" And then, sir, I've thought to myself, ' John
Sneek,' I've thought, ' ought you, as a man, to tell
of a woman ] And what should you do if a bird
took and pecked you awful? John Sneek,'" con-
37^ The Cambridge FresJunan ; or,
tinned the hypocritical gyp, with his notes of deep-
est solemnity, snch as he used in his responses to
the Litany on Sunday mornings, "'I hope you
would have the Christian fortitude and resignation
to turn the other finger also, and not go, like Betsy
Cribb, and strike a pore dumb animal with a paper
knife.' But, sir," he added suddenly, in his ordi-
nary tone, standing, his head on one side and his
arm behind him, "you won't breathe a word of
this as I've felt it my dooty to tell you, to Cribb,
sir?"
" Indeed, Sneek," replied his master, who could
not help laughing at his servant's transparent hy-
pocrisy, " I shall call IMrs. Cribb over the coals for
this, now."
The trouble of looking for her was saved by the
entrance of that individual.
" Talk of the devil," said Sneek, sotto voce.
"- Now there'll be a row — for Betsy's got a tongue
in her 'ead, she has."
" Oh, my good gracious ha' mercy on me!" was
the exclamation of the innocent bedmaker when
she had heard the charge. " Oh ! John Sneek, how
dare you go and take away my character — which
love all animals, keeping a little dog, two cats, and
a canary myself — before a good master — "
" Now, now, Betsy Cribb," said Sneek, advanc-
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 379
ing to a favourable position on the battle field —
" that'll do ;" and he pointed significantly over his
left shoulder. " We know all about it ; and what
I told Mr. Golightly is gospel truth, every word on
it; so the least said soonest mended, Betsy," he
added, being on his own account anxious to hush
the affair up.
"Least said, indeed!" said Mrs. Cribb, indig-
nantly. " Least said — there, don't wink at me over
the master's shoulder, for I scorn to take no notice
of your winks."
"Oh! Betsy Cribb, how can you say such things!"
put in the gyp. " I was only a rubbing my eye,
sir. I think I've got one of them river flies in it.
But there, a woman '11 make mischief out of any-
think ! I suppose, Mrs. Cribb," continued the gyp,
with much sarcasm, " if I was to venture so far as
to blow my nose, it w^ouldn't be high treason."
And he took out his handkerchief, and applied
it to his eye — which, I fear, had winked with a
view to stopping Mrs. Cribb's anger.
" S-silence, sir!" said our hero. "Now, Mrs.
Cribb, is there any truth in what I have been
tokir'
"Ah! tell the truth, do!" ejaculated the gyp,
in his religious tone of voice.
" Once, sir, after that bird had flown at me — "
380 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" Once !" exclaimed Sneek, in a growling under-
tone. " Once every Hower or two."
" Will you be quiet, or leave the room, Sneek T'
"C'rt'niy, sir!"
" — Well, sir, once when he flew at me, and
pecked my finger so — the mark's only just gone off,
though it's weeks ago — I said to him, ' Polly,' I
said, ' if ever you bite me again, I'll whip, whip,
whip you, you naughty bird;' and I was just a-
showing him the paper knife, which lay handy to
my 'and, when Sneek came in ; and this is what
he's gone and made out of it."
"Oh!" cried Sneek, vigorously advancing tore-
new the conflict — " oh ! you old — old — There,
I heven't got a word for you."
" And, sir," continued Mrs. Cribb, maintaining
the advantage she had gained — " not that I tell
tales, for it aint in my nature to do so — but one
day, when I was a-feedin' the bird in the vacation,
sir — which I waited on that bird hand and foot all
the while you was away — Sneek says, 'Birds is very
fond of Kyann pepper,' he says, holding up the
pepper box. 'Kyann!' I said, 'Sneek; why, I
never heard of such a thing. I'm sure, master
never gev him no Kyann.' ' Oh, yes,' he says; 'in
their own countries, they live on capsicums and
Chilies ; ' and he peppered that poor bird all of a
Memoirs of HI}'. Golightly. 38 1
moment, and before I could stop him, till I thought
he'd sneeze his very beak off."
Mr. Sneek met this narrative ^vith a flat con-
tradiction, calling most of the slang saints in the
Calendar to witness the truth of his assertions.
At last, after administering a suitable reproof to
his two servants, our hero dismissed them. He
was, however, doomed to hear the battle raging in
the gyp-room, out on the staircase, for a good hour
afterwards — where, without the restraint imposed
by his presence, the worthy pair went at it, as
Mr. Sneek subsequently remarked, " hammer and
ton^s."
'O'
Our hero carried out his intention of giving an
entertainment to his numerous friends in honour
of his father's \'isit. A supper, on a substantial
and entirely satisfactory scale, was furnished from
the college kitchens, while the champagne was
sent in to his rooms in great abundance from the
grocer's ; the stock of wine he had brought up
from home for his use during the term having
been consumed some time before.
The arrangements were very complete. Our
hero was to meet his father and mother, his
aunts, and Miss Jekyll at the station ; and — having
escorted the ladies to theii- hotel, and personally
382 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
3
seen that everything necessary for their comfort
had been attended to — he and his father were to
walk arm-in-arm to his rooms at St. Mary's, where
supper would at once be served; and Mr. Go-
lightly, senior, would have the pleasure of making
the acquaintance of his son's set. It was, there-
fore, with considerable disappointment that our
hero mastered the contents of a telegram from
Tuffley, Fuddleton, to S. A. Golightly, Esq., St.
Mary's, Cambridge, which ran as follows : —
" Sir — The family will come by first train in the
morning instead of to-night, as arranged. All well.
Sorry for delay."
It was plain that, as the supper was nearly ready
to be dished up when the telegram arrived, the en-
tertainment could not be put off. Determining,
therefore, to make the best of a bad job, our hero
apologized to his friends for the unavoidable ab-
sence of his respected father ; and it is only fair to
them to say that they bore the unexpected absence
of the reverend gentleman very well indeed — Mr.
Pokyr remarking that he " would have the old boy
at his diggings instead, another night." All our
hero's friends — Messrs. Pokyr, Calipee, Blaydes,
Chutney, Fitzfoodel, and a host of other gentle-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 383
men — were present, in the highest possible spirits,
and with undeniably good appetites ; the rear rank
being whipped in by the portly person of The
O'Higgins, who laid the lateness of his arrival to
"pool;" observing, at the same time, that, as they
had not commenced, there was no harm done.
The supper was eaten amid general festiveness
and the popping of champagne corks, cigars were
smoked, and songs were sung; and by the time
the long tables were broken up, and packs of cards
placed upon them by Mr. Sneek and competent
assistants, our hero had almost forgotten that he
had ever "put on the feed" in honour of his worthy
father.
Whist, loo, and vingt-et-un were played with
much spirit, and varying success. At the last-
mentioned game, it was observed by persons more
observant than our hero, that Mr. Timothy Fitz-
gerald O'Higgins turned up an ace very frequently
indeed. Indeed, the descendant of kings was pro-
verbially lucky at " Van."
At last, at a very late hour, the party separated.
Mr. Samuel — whose gait was very slightly affected
by the hot room and the smoke of the cigars — in-
sisted upon seeing some out-college men as far as
the gate.
" Wickens," he cried, kicking at the door of the
384 The Cambridge FresJiman; or,
porter's lodge — "wake up, ol' f'llr! Le' these
gen'elmen ou'."
Presently, when the porter appeared, grumblmg,
and muffled up in his nightgown, our hero gave
"the old cock" a playful push. The friends left,
and the gate was closed.
" Hallo, Golightly, you're not well. You shall
never walk back to your rooms,"
" Yes shall."
*'No!" and eight strong arms closed round the
feebly resisting person of our hero. " We'll carry
you."
" No sha'n't."
In an instant, Mr. Samuel was borne aloft at a
rapid pace towards a well-known piece of orna-
mental masonry in the middle of the great quad.
" Don't put him in the fountain," said somebody,
paraphrasing the well-known piece of advice.
And nothing less than the stout arm of his friend
Mr. Pokyr saved our hero from a regular ducking.
As it was, he was splashed by the trickling water
from the spout above, and taken off to bed, where
he soon gave the natural evidence of sound sleep.
In the morning, he felt himself rudely shaken
out of his slumber.
" I — I sha'n't get up yet, Sneek. No chapel
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 385
for me — not equal to it," he muttered, still half
asleep.
The shaking being continued, and Mr. Samuers
nerves being also a little out of order, he became
rather angry.
"C-confound it — go aAvay, will you!"
" Samuel — Samuel, what is all this 1" said a well-
known voice.
Our hero was wide awake in an instant.
" Oh, F-fa — how do you do"?" he said, extending
his hand from under the bed-clothes.
"A panel kicked out of your door, broken chairs
and glass in your rooms, and a horrid smell of
stale tobacco and the fumes of punch ! Oh, dear ! ''
continued the Kector, in a tone of mild reproof.
" And your aunts will be here in an instant ; and
I would not have them see it for the world. If
your aunt Dorothea takes it into her head that
you are wild, she'll leave all her money to your
cousin George. Oh, dear! what is to be doneT'
Our hero sent his father off to stop the further
advance of the ladies ; reproved Mrs. Cribb and his
devoted gyp for not getting the place into present-
' able order sooner — all in his long nightgown,- with
a travelling shawl hastily drawn round him — for
the occasion was too urgent for him to stop to dress,
before giving a few necessary directions. In this
2 c
386 The Cambrido-e Freshman; or,
o
costume, he was assisting his servants to move his
(lining table into its proper place, when he heard
the rustle of silks on the stairs, and Mr. Pokyr's
voice exclaiming —
" Those are his rooms. Ill rap him up for
you."
"Oh, goodness!" he exclaimed, as Mrs. Cribb
shut him in his china closet, and stood firmly with
her back to the door — "Fa must have missed them
somehow, and here they are! What will Aunt
Dorothea think when she sees the room'?"
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 387
CHAPTEH XXIV.
IN WHICH OUR HISTORY IS CONCLUDED.
E left our hero in his china closet. His
situation was not a very pleasant one.
The air of the place was decidedly stuffy
— there being a powerful odour of emptied but un-
washed jam and pickle pots. He could not unfold
the full dimensions of his manly form, for the brass
hooks sticking out from the shelves ran into the
back of his head if he did. Add to these causes of
disquietude that he was shivering in his nightgown,
and Aunt Dorothea's awful voice was to be heard
on the threshold of his disorderly, room, and it is
not difficult to imagine that Mr. Golightly felt su-
premely uncomfortable.
Mrs. Cribb stood with her back to the door of
the china closet, with an air of firm determination
to let no one approach within a yard of her m.aster's
place of concealment. Twice our hero tried softly
to open the door of his hiding-place the least bit in
2 c 2
^SS The Cambridge Freshman; or.
o
^he world, just to enable him to breathe ; but this
action on his side was answered by a resolute bunt
from the person of his gaoler on the other. He
gave it up as hopeless ; and crouched down among
the pots and pans, to be slowly poisoned by the
odours of decaying scraps of pickle and mouldy
jam.
" "When I do get out," he resolved to himself,
"I'll make old Mrs. Cribb wash these pots and
bottles, or turn them out."
" I don't believe the lazy fellow's up yet," said
the voice of Mr. Pokyr.
Our hero could unfortunately hear only too
plainly all that was going on.
" What a very nice part of the college Samuel's
rooms are in," said a rather masculine voice.
It was Aunt Dorothea's.
" Oh, goodness, how did Fa miss theml" groaned
Mr. Samuel, in the darkness of the china closet.
Then he heard a sweet, musical voice, the sound
of which he loved to hear, saying, in reply to his
aunt's remark —
" Keally, quite beautiful! And look at his name
up over the door!"
This was Miss Jekyll, he knew.
" What will she think when sht sees the room]
Hang it — it's too bad of Pokyr."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 389
There was a rustle of silks, and the half-closed
door of his room was pushed open by Mr. Pokyr.
" Oh, what a horrid smell of tobacco!" said Miss
Harriet.
" Samuel knows tobacco smoke always makes
me feel faint," exclaimed Mrs. Golightly.
Sneek and Cribb stood making a dozen reve-
rences, in their accustomed fashion.
Mr. Pokyr dashed into our hero's bed-room, cry-
ing—
" I'll wake him up."
But the bed was empty.
"And where is his father?" asked Mrs. Go-
lightly.
" Golightly 's somewhere about," said Mr, Pokyr^
observing our hero's clothes on a chair in his bed-
room.
"Golightly," he called out ; but of course there
was no answering " Here."
" Oh, dear me, what a very disreputable appear-
ance his room presents. Look, the door even is
broken!" continued Miss Harriet, pointing to the
bed-room.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Mrs. Golightly, not know-
ing exactly whether to side with her son or not.
" Beg your pardon, ladies. Party last night,"'
said Sneek.
390 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
" Mr. Goliglitly is always a most steady gentle-
man, ma'am," said Mrs. Cribb, addressing herself
pointedly to Miss Harriet Golightly.
But there remained the inexorable logic of facts.
" I thought Samuel's habits were very different,"
exclaimed the last-mentioned lady, pointing about
with her parasol.
" What do you mean, sister?" asked Miss Doro-
thea, sharply.
" I mean this room is a disgraceful scene, Doro
thea. Look at all those packs of cards hastily
tucked away, and look at the broken glasses !"
At this moment the Rector put his jovial face in
at the door, exclaiming —
" Oh, you are here!"
And Mr. Pokyr discovered the whereabouts of
the " landlord."
« Cribb," said he.
" Sir," said the bedmaker — while the gyp winked
at least a thousand and one winks with his working
eye, all intended for Mr. Pokyr.
" Golightly 's in that closet."
"Nothink of the kind, sir — which it's full of hiy
china and things," said Mrs. Cribb.
"In the china closet! Samuel in the china
closet!" exclaimed all the ladies in a breath.
"AYhy is Samuel in the china closet 1"
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
391
" Come, show us your head, Golightly — we won't
ask for anything more," said Mr. Pokyr, removing
Mrs. Cribb from the door<,
.^-^ tl-^
"oh, SAMUEL, THIS IS SHOCKING!"
Thus adjured, our hero put out his head, and
smiled very feebly, speedily popping it back again.
"Oh, Samuel, this is shocking!" said Miss
Harriet. " We are quite — quite shocked."
392 The Cambridge Preshman ; or,
The Rector and our hero's mamma waited ner
vously for the verdict of Miss Dorothea. They
feared the worst consequences; but the spirit of
the Normans, her ancestors, was strong in their
daughter.
" Who is shocked, sister'? " asked Miss Dorothea,
in her most contradictory manner. " Speak for
yourself, if you please."
"Well, sister, I'm sure — " the younger lady
began, apologetically.
" I'm sure of one thing," said Miss Dorothea,
tartly taking her up — " Samuel is a Tredsofte all
over. I had no idea the boy had half so much
spirit. T hate a milksop ; and Har-riet, I love the
smell of tomcco."
Miss Dorothea looked so warlike in her majesty,
that nobody dared reply ; but three persons in the
room breathed freely again. The reversion to the
dear old spinster's Consols was assured.
" Samuel, I'm proud of you/' said the good lady,
addressing herself to the crevice in the closet door
— for our hero had prudently closed it again. " We
shall wait breakfast for you at the hotel for half an
hour. Brother, give me your arm. Mr. Pokyr,
you will join us at breakfast, I hope."
And having thus spoken. Miss Dorothea sailed
out of the room with the majesty of an empress,
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 393
followed, at a respectful distance, by the rest of the
party.
When they were gone, our hero made a rush from
the china closet to his bed-room, and dressed him-
self in the highest glee. All had gone well.
" What a spirit Aunt Dorothea has ! " he thought
to himself more than once.
While Mr. Sneek pronounced her praises in the
w^ords —
"Well, the old lady's a ovi-an-outer — she is."
The sun shone brightly on the party as they
walked with Mr. Pokyr round the college, seeing
in turn the library, the chapel,, the bridge, and
everything there was to be seen. Good temper
soon reigned supreme again.
" I really must call on Mr. Bloke — not now, you
know — but before I go away," said the Rector to
Mr. Pokyr. " You must show me where his rooms
are."
"All right! — close here," said Mr. Pokyr, vault-
ing lightly over some iron hurdles placed in front
of the tutor's windows for the protection of the
grass plots. " Those are his wind — "
But before Mr. Pokyr had time to say the word,
an angry visage appeared at the open window. It
was the tutor himself.
594 ^/^^ Cambrido-e Freshman; or,
" Dear me, Mr. Pokyr, whenever I look out of
my window I see you jumping those rails," said the
irate Don, who did not see the Rector's portly
figure.
"And it is very curious, Mr. Bloke," said Mr.
Pokyr, presuming on the situation, " that whenever
I jump those rails I see you looking out of your
window."
" Oh dear, dear, Mr. Golightly ! I did not see
you. Your son told me you were coming up. Pray
come in."
The Rector, having pointed to the ladies and in-
troduced them, excused himself from paying a visit
to Mr. Bloke on their account.
Presently they all sat down to breakfast, having
been join-ed by Mr. Samuel, who, at Miss Dorothea's
request, sat next to her.
After breakfast, they commenced to do the lions
of the place; and during their stay, of nearly a
week, they were constantly occupied in the same
agreeable pursuit. They went every night down to
Grassy, to the boat races ; they visited the A.D.C.,
and accepted invitations to three dances and as
many dinners.
It was when the college ball, which is an annual
affair at St. Mary's, was beii^g celebrated with great
eclat^ that our hero led Miss Jekyll out of the heated
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
395
ball-room into the moonlight softly falling on the
cloistered court ; and there, without half the hesita-
tion that might have been expected of him, asked
her that question which all men ought to ask once
in their lives, and no man wishes to ask twice.
Her reply may be easily divined, when we say
that our hero, as he walked back to the ball-room,
after an absence of half an hour, with the beautiful
girl on his arm, looked very proud and very happy.
" Now I know I shall get tlirough my Degree
Exam, all right," he said.
And he did.
w"^"
yt
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