The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green Part 3

"But I've got nothing of the sort, sir; I must request you to keep your dog--" A violent fit of coughing, caused by a well-directed volley of smoke from his neighbour's lips, put a stop to Mr. Green's expostulations.

"I hope my weed is no annoyance?" said the gentleman; "if it is, I will throw it away."

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 27]

To which piece of politeness Mr. Green could, of course, only reply, between fits of coughing, "Not in the least I - a.s.sure you, - I am very fond - of tobacco - in the open air."

"Then I daresay you'll do as we are doing, and smoke a weed yourself," said the gentleman, as he offered Mr. Green a plethoric cigar-case. But Mr. Green's expression of approbation regarding tobacco was simply theoretical; so he treated his neighbour's offer as magazine editors do the MSS. of unknown contributors - it was "declined with thanks."

Mr. Verdant Green had already had to make a similar reply to a like proposal on the part of his left-hand neighbour, who was now expressing violent admiration for our hero's top-coat.

"Ain't that a good style of coat, Charley?" he observed to his neighbour. "I wish I'd seen it before I got this over-coat! There's something sensible about a real, unadulterated top-coat; and there's a style in the way in which they've let down the skirts, and put on the velvet collar and cuffs regardless of expense, that really quite goes to one's heart. Now I daresay the man that built that," he said, more particularly addressing the owner of the coat, "condescends to live in a village, and waste his sweetness on the desert air, while a n.o.ble field might be found for his talent in a University town. That coat will make quite a sensation in Oxford. Won't it, Charley?"

And when Charley, quoting a popular actor (totally unknown to our hero), said, "I believe you, my bo-oy!" Mr. Verdant Green began to feel quite proud of the abilities of their village tailor, and thought what two delightful companions he had met with. The rest of the journey further cemented (as he thought) their friends.h.i.+p; so that he was fairly astonished, when on meeting them the next day they stared him full in the face, and pa.s.sed on without taking any more notice of him. But freshmen cannot learn the mysteries of college etiquette in a day.

However, we are antic.i.p.ating. They had not yet got to Oxford, though, from the pace at which they were going, it appeared as if they would soon reach there; for the coachman had given up his seat and the reins to the box-pa.s.senger, who appeared to be as used to the business as the coachman himself; and he was now driving them, not only in a most scientific manner, but also at a great pace. Mr.

Green was not particularly pleased with the change in the four-wheeled government; but when they went down a hill at a quick trot, the heavy luggage making the coach rock to and fro with the speed, his fears increased painfully. They culminated, as the trot increased into a canter, and then broke into a gallop as they swept along the level road at the bottom of the hill, and rattled up the rise of another. As the horses walked over the brow

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of the hill, with smoking flanks and jingling harness, Mr. Green recovered sufficient breath to expostulate with the coachman for suffering - "a mere lad," he was about to say but fortunately checked himself in time, - for suffering any one else than the regular driver to have the charge of the coach. "You never fret yourself about that, sir," replied the man; "I knows my bis'ness, as well as my dooties to self and purprietors, and I'd never go for to give up the ribbins to any party but wot had showed hisself fitted to 'andle 'em. And I think I may say this for the genelman as has got 'em now, that

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 29]

he's fit to be fust vip to the Queen herself; and I'm proud to call him my p.o.o.ple. Why, sir, - if his honour here will pardon me for makin' so free, - this 'ere gent is Four-in-hand Fosbrooke, of which you ~must~ have heerd on."

Mr. Green replied that he had not had that pleasure.

"Ah! a pleasure you ~may~ call it, sir, with parfect truth," replied the coachman; "but, lor bless me, sir, weer ~can~ you have lived?"

The "p.o.o.ple" who had listened to this, highly amused, slightly turned his head, and said to Mr. Green, "Pray don't feel any alarm, sir; I believe you are quite safe under my guidance. This is not the first time by many that I have driven this coach, - not to mention others; and you may conclude that I should not have gained the ~sobriquet~ to which my worthy friend has alluded without having ~some~ pretensions to a knowledge of the art of driving."

Mr. Green murmured his apologies for his mistrust, - expressed perfect faith in Mr. Fosbrooke's skill - and then lapsed into silent meditation on the various arts and sciences in which the gentlemen of the University of Oxford seemed to be most proficient, and pictured to himself what would be his feelings if he ever came to see Verdant driving a coach! There certainly did not appear to be much probability of such an event; but can any ~pater familias~ say what even the most carefully brought up young Hopeful will do when he has arrived at years of indiscretion?

Altogether, Mr. Green did not particularly enjoy the journey.

Besides the dogs and cigars, which to him were equal nuisances, little Mr. Bouncer was perpetually producing unpleasant post-horn effects, - which he called "sounding his octaves," - and destroying the effect of the airs on the guard's key-bugle, by joining in them at improper times and with discordant measures. Mr. Green, too, could not but perceive that the majority of the conversation that was addressed to himself and his son (though more particularly to the latter), although couched in politest form, was yet of a tendency calculated to "draw them out" for the amus.e.m.e.nt of their fellow-pa.s.sengers. He also observed that the young gentlemen severally exhibited great capacity for the beer of Ba.s.s and the porter of Guinness, and were not averse even to liquids of a more spirituous description. Moreover, Mr. Green remarked that the ministering Hebes were invariably addressed by their Christian names, and were familiarly conversed with as old acquaintances; most of them receiving direct offers of marriage or the option of putting up the banns on any Sunday in the middle of the week; while the inquiries after their grandmothers and the various members of their family circles were both numerous and gratifying. In

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all these verbal encounters little Mr. Bouncer particularly distinguished himself.

Woodstock was reached: "Four-in-hand Fosbrooke" gave up the reins to the professional Jehu; and at last the towers, spires, and domes of Oxford appeared in sight. The first view of the City of Colleges is always one that will be long remembered. Even the railway traveller, who enters by the least imposing approach, and can scarcely see that he is in Oxford before he has reached Folly Bridge, must yet regard the city with mingled feelings of delight and surprise as he looks across the Christ Church meadows and rolls past the Tom Tower. But he who approaches Oxford from the Henley Road, and looks upon that unsurpa.s.sed prospect from Magdalen Bridge, - or he who enters the city, as Mr. Green did, from the Woodstock Road, and rolls down the shady avenue of St. Giles', between St. John's College and the Taylor Buildings, and past the graceful Martyrs' Memorial, will receive impressions such as probably no other city in the world could convey.

As the coach clattered down the Corn-market, and turned the corner by Carfax into High Street, Mr. Bouncer, having been compelled in deference to University scruples to lay aside his post-horn, was consoling himself by chanting the following words, selected probably in compliment to Mr. Verdant Green.

"To Oxford, a Freshman so modest, I enter'd one morning in March; And the figure I cut was the oddest, All spectacles, choker, and starch.

Whack fol lol, lol iddity, &c.

From the top of 'the Royal Defiance,'

Jack Adams, who coaches so well, Set me down in these regions of science, In front of the Mitre Hotel.

Whack fol lol, lol iddity, &c.

'Sure never man's prospects were brighter,'

I said, as I jumped from my perch; 'So quickly arrived at the Mitre, Oh, I'm sure, to get on in the Church!'

Whack fol lol, lol iddity, &c."

By the time Mr. Bouncer finished these words, the coach appropriately drew up at the "Mitre," and the pa.s.sengers tumbled off amid a knot of gownsmen collected on the pavement to receive them. But no sooner were Mr. Green and our hero set down, than they were attacked by a horde of the aborigines of Oxford, who, knowing by vulture-like sagacity the aspect of a freshman and his governor, swooped down upon them in the guise of impromptu porters, and made an indiscriminate attack upon the luggage. It was only by the display of the greatest presence of mind that Mr. Verdant Green recovered his effects, and prevented his canvas-covered boxes from being

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 31]

carried off in the wheel-barrows that were trundling off in all directions to the various colleges.

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But at last all were safely secured. And soon, when a snug dinner had been discussed in a quiet room, and a bottle of the famous (though I have heard some call it "in-famous") Oxford port had been produced, Mr. Green, under its kindly influence, opened his heart to his son, and gave him much advice as to his forthcoming University career; being, of course, well calculated to do this from his intimate acquaintance with the subject.

Whether it was the extra gla.s.s of port, or whether it was the nature of his father's discourse, or whether it was the novelty of his situation, or whether it was all these circ.u.mstances combined, yet certain it was that Mr. Verdant Green's first night in Oxford was distinguished by a series, or rather confusion, of most remarkable dreams, in which bishops, archbishops, and hobgoblins elbowed one another for precedence; a beneficent female crowned him with laurel, while Fame l.u.s.tily proclaimed the honours he had received, and unrolled the cla.s.s-list in which his name had first rank.

Sweet land of visions, that will with such ease confer even a ~treble~ first upon the weary sleeper, why must he awake from thy gentle thraldom, to find the cla.s.s-list a stern reality, and Graduates.h.i.+p too often but an empty dream!

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 33]

CHAPTER IV.

MR. VERDANT GREEN BECOMES AN OXFORD UNDERGRADUATE.

MR. VERDANT GREEN arose in the morning more or less refreshed; and after breakfast proceeded with his father to Brazenface College to call upon the Master; the porter directed them where to go, and they sent up their cards. Dr. Portman was at home, and they were soon introduced to his presence.

Instead of the stern, imposing-looking personage that Mr. Verdant Green had expected to see in the ruler among dons, and the terror of offending undergraduates, the master of Brazenface was a mild-looking old gentleman, with an inoffensive amiability of expression and a shy, retiring manner that seemed to intimate that he was more alarmed at the strangers than they had need to be at him. Dr. Portman seemed to be quite a part of his college, for he had pa.s.sed the greatest portion of his life there. He had graduated there, he had taken Scholars.h.i.+ps there, he had even gained a prize-poem there; he had been elected a Fellow there, he had become a Tutor there, he had been Proctor and College Dean there; there, during the long vacation, he had written his celebrated "Disquisition on the Greek Particles,"

afterwards published in eight octavo volumes; and finally, there he had been elected Master of his college, in which office, honoured and respected, he appeared likely to end his days. He was unmarried; perhaps he had never found time to think of a wife; perhaps he had never had the courage to propose for one; perhaps he had met with early crosses and disappointments, and had shrined in his heart a fair image that should never be displaced. Who knows? for dons are mortals, and have been undergraduates once.

The little hair he had was of a silvery white, although his eye-brows retained their black hue; and to judge from the fine fresh-coloured features and the dark eyes that were now nervously twinkling upon Mr.

Green, Dr. Portman must, in his more youthful days, have had an ample share of good looks. He was dressed in an old-fas.h.i.+oned reverend suit of black, with knee-breeches and gaiters, and a ma.s.sive watch-seal dangling from under his waistcoat, and was deep in the study of his favourite particles. He received our hero and his father both nervously and graciously, and bade them be seated.

"I shall al-ways," he said, in monosyllabic tones, as though he were reading out of a child's primer, - "I shall al-ways be glad to see any of the young friends of my old col-lege friend Lar-kyns; and I do re-joice to be a-ble to serve you, Mis-ter Green; and I hope your son, Mis-ter, Mis-ter Vir---Vir-gin-ius,--"

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"Verdant, Dr. Portman," interrupted Mr. Green, suggestively, "Verdant."

"Oh! true, true, true! and I do hope that he will be a ve-ry good young man, and try to do hon-our to his col-lege."