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