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3T0KAGE-ITEn MAIM LIBRARY
LPA-B52F
U.B.C. LIBRARY
THE LIBRARY
THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA
Gift
Mr, Lester W. McLennan
(^
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
University of British Columbia Library
http://www.archive.org/details/cambridgefreshmaOOIegr
^
>//(
THE
CAMBRIDGE FRESHMAN;
OR,
MEMOIRS CF MR. GOLIGHTLY.
BY
MARTIN LEGRAND.
gUitk numerous EUustrntions bv |3hu.
LONDON :
TINSLEY BROTHERS, CATHERINE STREET,
Strand.
1871.
London:
sweeting and c o., printers,
80, gkay's inn road, HOLBCRN.
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" . . ^
,, 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 $0
,, V. — MR. GOLIGHTLY CONVEYS HIS IMPRESSION OF CAMBrUDGE 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 BUGLE OF WAR IN HIS EARS ........ no
,, Vin. — AN INTERMEDIATE CHAPTER BETWEEN THE ONE
BEFORE IT AND THE ONE BEHIND IT . . I34
,, IX. — IN WHICH SOME SCENES FROM "THE RIVALS"
ARE ENACTED OFF THE STAGE . . . I48
,, X. — CONSTABLES AND PEACEMAKERS . . . 1 70
,, XI. — TREATS BOTH OF THE STABLE AND THE UNSTABLE 1S5
„ XII. — IN WHICH OUR HERO MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE
OF THE REVEREND PORSON PLUNKETT, M.A. . 204
CHAP. Xlir.— CONTAINS MR. GOLIGHTLY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF HIS INTRODUCTION TO THE MUTTON CUTLET CLUB
,, 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
„ XV.
,, XVI.
,, XVII.-
,, xviii.
„ XIX. XX.
„ XXL— (
-OUR HERO PAYS A VISIT TO MR. GALLAGHER S ESTABLISHMENT AT SKY SCRAPER LODGE
-MR. GOLIGHTLY QUITS ALMA MATER FOR OAK INGHAM RECTORY
-RECOUNTS AN INSTANCE OF CHARITY ILL-BE STOWED
-OUR HERO PURSUES SCIENCE
-MR. SAMUEL ADOLPHUS GOLIGHTLY MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE WHOPPER .
-OUR HERO FINDS A SEAT IN THE SENATE HOUSE PLACED AT HIS DISPOSAL
OUR HERO SPENDS THE EVENING AT A TERPEN DICULAR
,, XXII. — OUR HERO HAS DEALINGS WITH A JEV.' „ XXIII. — MR. GOLIGHTLY RECEIVES FRIENDS . ,, XXIV. — IN WHICH OUR HISTORY IS CONCLUDED
223
279 2SS
30S
i22
354 363
374 3S7
THE
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 Gohghtly, 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 Kectory ; 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 Kector 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 t?ie 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 INIiss 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 Barke 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 sufficient 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 arc concerned and the
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
noble carl Avhose pedigree we 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-
pcctant, proper, on field vert;
tails borne erect.
Crest — An arm issuant, holding
whip flectant.
No worthier member of the
family ever bore these arms, in ^^^^^^i^r^-^^ 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 akeady been mentioned. Hav- ing now made our readers acquainted -with the family history and position of the Golightlys, we will, in our next chapter, give them a personal in- troduction to the various members of the family at the lv.ec lory.
Meinoirs of Mr. Go lightly.
CHAPTEH IT.
THE GOLIGIITLY FAMILY '^AT HOME."
HE -worthy Rector had come to the decision witli -which our first — and last — cliapter 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 ISIr. 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 arc 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 TJie Cambridge Freshman; or,
perhaps, with rather more than his usual satis- faction Avith 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 Tuffley, 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 — inde?d, 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 ]\Iargaux 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
Me77ioirs of Mj'. Go lightly.
days, when, aided by lier 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 Fresu7nan ; 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 Avell-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
Meinoirs of Ulr. Golightly. 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 w^;, 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, vrithout 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 wuth a stutter; and as he assured the infant Samuel's mamma that Lady Ealpli Penthesilea had tried it with great success upon iNIaster Ealph Pen- thesilea, and as the mention of Lady Ralph Pen- thesilea's name alone carries great weight with it in the estimation of ISIrs. 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. Go lightly. 13
Tuffley having now removed the tea-cups, the Rector endeavoured to resume, in the drawing- 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 shoidd 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 Ca7itbridge Freshman; 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 Rector: "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 w^hich 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 conies 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 legy And the conclusion of the game and the end of Mrs. Golightly'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
1 6 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
have said, without one moment's hesitation, the 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 licctor, "united with mental tranquillity under all circumstances, coUectedness 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, wealth)', 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 o??/y 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 ;
jllcmoirs of My. GoligJitly. 17
and tr}' — 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 — be calm — 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 Avhich 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 opportimitjr to send for the butler, to inquire if everything waiS
c
The Cambridge 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. INlr. 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 ]\Ir. Golightly. 19
Avhat he did with all his money: a hundred and fifty pounds a-ycar for being a curate and a tutor, and thirty pounds arising from the secure invest- ment of nine hundred and thirty-one pounds six shilhngs 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 ]\Iiss Dorothea won- dered what he did with his money!
Hark ! the jingle of glasses. In comes Tuffley 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 TJie 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-
Memoirs of ]\Ir. 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.
IF there was bustle and confusion in the house of Golightly on the night before, wliat ^Yas 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 ISIiss Harriet's Mere 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 —
2 2 The Cambridge Freshman; 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 with 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 — "AVould Mr. Samuel be so good as to step outside a moment?" And there was Betty, the cook, wlio had nursed him in his
Memoirs of Ilfr. GoligJUly.
infancy, Avitli a packet which struck rather warm through the white paper: — "Would Mr. Samuel please to accept it \ " And when opened it was found to be a plum cake, recently baked, and a pot of mixed pickles, with '■'■ Affection's Off'ering'' 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 Cambrids'e 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.
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
JManoirs of Mr. Golightly
-0
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 that were to fall in after-life to the lot of
2 6 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
his son — a brilliancy wliich might be reflected upon him, and brighten his declining years ^Yith a resplendent though borrowed lustre. Imagina- tion, too, carried him on, and suggested the possibility of " Letters from the Eector 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.
AVe are not always best at what we think we excel in. I know' the Hector 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 lie had the chance! Ah! poor, dear, simple Eector, 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 J\fr. Go lightly. 27
The Rector seized the idea. Poor Mrs. Golightly ben^c^ed to "o to the seaside. Tlic Rector said " To-morrow," and meant it. This lie thought was decision of character, energy on a magnificent scale, and so forth.
Poor man, when he found the only razor he could shave Mith 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. Xow% 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 Avith his uncle, his aunt, and his cousm 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 Freshman; or,
safely fixed on the top of the carnage, they drove oif, waving their adieux to their affectionate relatives. And it was lucky that the Eectory 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 Mr. Go light fy. 29
races," as IMr. 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 Adolphiis 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 BelVs 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 blowed if those old pigs would ever get them there within an hour of the time."
The Ca7ribridge FresJiman; or,
And our hero, of course, took the opportunity, every time it offered, of consulting his new watch; and it was not kind of George to say that, "If he had got a smarter ticker than other people, he need not be for ever pulling it in and out of his pocket."
How^ever, Mr. Samuel was used to his cousin's playful way, and made himself as happy as he could with his sandwiches and cherry brandy, and tried to think the "Cambridge Guide" w^as 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 Rumw^alla 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. PokjT, giving the Indian gentleman what is vulgarly but expressively styled
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 31
a dig in the ribs. "Why, that's old Golightly and his cousin Samuel in the flxmily 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," w^as 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. Cahpee — 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 Railway 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 flither wor afore him. He re- collected him just such another."
Ulcnioirs of M)'. Golightly.
The lu^•^•a^■c havino: been taken over to the up-platform —
" Now, then, any more for IJIctchley, 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 his 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 tlie 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 scries of tremen- dously exciting "blows," when it was painfully recalled by ]Mr. Pokyr's hand descending with
D
The Cambridge Freshman; or,
some force upon his leg, accompanying the ques- tion—
"And what arc 3'ou 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. INIust 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 lie 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 AVhistler 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 wliom tliis offer was addressed was in happy ignorance of what a " situation " might be; and therefore it was not reasonable to suppose that he would express a decided preference for tliat 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 showing 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 the 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 w^onderful chance. Had the tip direct from Newmarket, where he is
D 2
36 Ths Cambridge Freslnnan; 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 1 "
" AVhat has he told you." asked Mr, Georsre.
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 1 " 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 it?"
" 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 J\Ir. Golightly. 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, wliere 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 wliat 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 — bcdad, 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 Fi^eshman ; or,
The four gentlemen soon succeeded in filling the carriage ^vith 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, GolightlyT'
"Oh, ah!" said Mr. George; "of course, if he likes."
"Has your cousin ever told you anything about the CutletT' Mr. Pokyr inquii'ed, 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."
"ISTow, 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-Cfo was a prominent object, the background being filled in with the B.A. degree. And all the works of
Memoirs of Ulr. GoligJitly. 39
this artist are distinguished by a dense atmosphere of "grinding" and green tea.
They were at tliis 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 was a literary associationt" adding, that "such societies, he believed, affected 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 stopped 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 hoast a secre- tary, Ave 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, then?" demanded Mr. Samuel, in a rapture of impatient interest.
"FitzFoodel," said his informant.
"X-not Frederick FitzFoodell"
"That is the man, I believe; though we all call him Jockey FitzFoodel."
"Eeally," 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 ISIaga- zine").
" I have heard him sliout 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 ClubV 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 usV' 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 ? 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 youV
42 The Cambridge FresJwian; or,
^•All 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."
]\Ir. 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 fivour 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. I/Ct's do somethine:."
"Well, wake the Nigger, and let us have a mild rubber. You can play whist % " 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. Golightly.
43
" Yes — oh, yes. I have often ph^yed with my aunts."
" Come on, then," rcpUecI Mr. Pokyr, producing
A HAXD AT CARDS.
from his pocket a morocco case, containing two packs of cards.
Mr. Cahpec having been roused, and a board — which the guard had supphed before they left
44 The CaniLridge FresJwian; or^
Fuddleton — adjusted betAveen the four gentlemen 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 wdth 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.
Xt 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. Golightly. 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 ahvays 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 eafe if he did the same; and was greatly surprised to hear his partner inquire, in angry tones, "What do you mean by that?"
" I thought you asked me to mark for us," he rejilied.
" 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 ir 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 M'as 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
Jllcmoirs of JMr. Golightly. 47
sandwiches under one glass cover, two Queen cakes under another, a dish of buns, a cylinder of captain's biscuits, oranges, or Everton toffy. 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 ofl" 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. INIr. 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 jNIr. 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 when the man whose walk in life is replenishing
48 TJie Cambridge Freshman; or,
the srease-boxes arrived at the carriaije from the M'indow of Avhich Mr. GoHghtly 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 rufhan, evidently missing the point of the joke, replied in the negative ; adding that he thought —
"It was some people's heads, and not hairs, as wanted a-greasin'!"
jMr. 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. Xor 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 fir 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. Go lightly. 49
play till the train avrived at the platform at Cam- bridge.
Mr. Goljghtly thanked his cousin George for the cash he had lent him; and also found that the chief expenses of a railway 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 Freshman ; or,
CHAPTER IV.
SKIM. COLL., CAM.
[:E left our hero in a fly, with his friend, ^Ir. 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 Yicc-Chancellor. This building, however, he afterwards found out, was known as Addcnbrooke'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 arc concerned, to repeat here the names he first knew them by. Suffice it to
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 51
say, in justice to Mr. Pokyr's genius, that they Avcre more flmciful tlian 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 Rev. 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 newly painted white letters, on a black ground, the name " S. A. Golightly " met his delighted gaze. 'Witli 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 appearance 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 CaiJibridge 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 bowhig with a like intention.
" Please, sir — bedmaker, sir ; yes, sir ;— if you please, sir," said the lady.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 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: "svhcrefore Betsy or Cribb ; and either name an- swered to when called," said Mrs. Cribb.
" Sncek, 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 T^^^ 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 niinnit ; sha'n't we, sir 1 " 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-jDox; t^^■o sharp twinkling eyes, one of which -was about half an inch higher than the other; a large niouth, half of Avhich nature or habit taught him to dispense Avith, 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, tlic annual
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 55
gift of the Fellows, \yhose 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 worthy, directly Mrs. Cribb's back WHS turned, began to speak of her merits as fol- lows:—
"Now, that's just Cribb, 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, ]\Ius- 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 Ca7nbridge Freshman ; 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 INIr. 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? — 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'll go into tlie bins in the winders, and then there's that closet, and there's the cupboards in the book- case."
jNIr. 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. GoUghtly. 57
tlicst bill ; for sometimes, Avlien there was nothink ill 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.
"AVhat lies is that rascal telling now, Go- lightly]" demanded Pokyr.
Mr. Samuel Adolphus expressed a faint hope that his gyp was speaking the truth, the whole truth, et ccctera.
'• 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 Sneck, 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
58 The Cambridge FrcsJiman; 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 ]" 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 jSIr. Grantley come into these rooms ; but he never wanted to lock up nothink witli 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, wliicli is sucli a convicted martyr to tlie rheumaticks, 'ud be the gyp for tliis stair- case. As I've often said to different gentlemen as I've had for masters — wliich they all thought the same as I did — Sneek's habits is not suitable
J\Ic?jioirs of Jllr. Go lightly. 59
for such n place, as you'll find out afore you've know'd him long, sir."
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 riieumaticks," when Mr. Pokyr's servant called him to dinner.
We have stated tliat 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 his cousin, Mr. Calipee, and his host seated .when he entered. Durin"- the interval between the soup and the fish, lie 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 cither side of the mantelpiece ; above which were ranged pi23es 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 Ilariers," Cut- let Club dinners, " Lyceum" suppers, and racing fixtures for the current vear. Plants in blossom.
6o The Cambridge Freshman; or,
from the nurseryman's ; and beautiful busts and sculj)turcs from the studio of that celebrated Ita- lian artist, Signor Ariosto Kamingo, 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, wliich 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 cat their dinner.
" Gracious heavens ! " he exclaimed, starting to his feet. " W-what is being done'? What 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 what] 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. Golighily. 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 % "
Mr. Golightly could not agree with tlie native of India on this point.
"Champagne, sirV said Mr. Pokyr's man.
" Thank you," said our hero.
" How is your wine, Golightly 1 " inquired Mr. Calipee, at the same time tasting his own.
" Very good, tliank 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 tlian wine. This bottle is good," he added, with an air of melancholy resignation ; " but Miio knows what the next may be]"
Such was the Nigger's gloomy way of regarding the future.
In the room above them, ]\Ir. 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 Cambj'idge 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 X "
"Why do they call him J-Jamaical " 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, Gohghtlyr'
Our hero signified his readiness to do so. And, after coffee and a cigar had been discussed, he re-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 6
J
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 "INIurder" 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 1 Was this a ghostly freak, or was he at the wrong door ? lie was in a cold perspiration. But the idea of night- lights relieved him. Pie 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 knell, before he fell into a light and disturbed slumberj 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 liad been paid him in the night. As a truthful chro- nicler, I cannot say that ^Ir. George seemed sur- prised when he heard it. He said, encouragingly —
" Ah, you must expect these little things at first
Meinoirs of Mr. Golightly.
— just in your Frcsliman'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.
'• I'll 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', du'cctly ! "
He followed our hero into his cousin's bed-room.
" Now, what'Il you have for breakfast, old fel- low 1 Say the word. What do you like 1 "
]\[r. 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 j\Ir. Samuel.
" All right. Sneek, order a ' spread-eagle,' with mushrooms, and some sausages."
The gyp departed immediately for the kitchens.
66 The Cmnhridge Freshman; or,
" Now, my boy/' said George, " amuse yourself in the next room Avhilst 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 cofFeel"
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.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 67
" 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 1" 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 lleverend Titus Bloke unless I am sent for. So you'll excuse me from joining you in that visit."
T 2
6S 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.
" Ton 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- ingham six album portraits, done in the best style.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 69
" Now you want some bands," said Mr. Pokvr, 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 tailor, " at this early — "
Mr. Pok}r 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 knoAV 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 obliging Smith, as he bowed them out of the shop.
70 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Tlie 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 therel"
" 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 Dubhn, 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.
" What time does the sermon begins' 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 again, if I am up in time, I will come and sliow 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 Skimmery. Here, on going to Mr. Samuel's rooms, they found that the cap and gowm 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 Pve 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, sirl" he asked of Mr. Gcorire.
72 The Cambridge FresJunan; or,
" Xo 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.
" Xot as I care about wine," said she; "for, ^Yhen 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.
"AYhich, 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, wOio 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 pcrticklcr; for my poor husband, which, as John Sneek knows, is a con-
MefHoirs 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."
AYith Mr. Samuel's first appearance in a cap and gown, we commence a fresh paragraph. At first he felt a little awkward in his 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 efforts 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 wtII 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 l^fi^ Cambridge Freshman; 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 vrould 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 Mill lecture upon algebra from eleven to twelve. I hope, at the end of the term, they will both give me a good
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 75
account of you. If at any time you require my advice, you "svill 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.
Mr. 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 me once or twice ; but Pokyr's often going."
" Really !" 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 Pokyr 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. Golightly.
CHAPTER V.
MR. GOLIGHTLY CONVEYS PITS IMPRESSION OF CAM- BRIDGE TO HIS FAMILY IN A CIRCULAR LETTER.
ROBABLY 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-
yS The Cambridge Freshman; 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 dishked 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 circumstances; 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
Memoirs 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 Cambridge 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'? I 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 knucldes do^vn 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."
llie immediate ancestor of the Rector had, as wc 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 Avith a refractory churchwarden the parish had elected, the parson of Oakingham,
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 8i
though boiling 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 — Bobbleswick his name was — let who might say nay; — the day was Friday: he waited: in- dignant as he w^as, he waited. Tuffley took him up tea to his study at a quarter-past eleven, w^ondering " what could keep the master up, and me up too." As the last stroke of the midnight hour, by Oak- ingham Church clock, died away into silence, the Hector 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 w^as 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
S2 The Cavibridge FrcsJnnan ; 07',
minds than that of our hero. In the first place, he had forgotten to bring any note paper ^yith 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 ]\Ir. 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 <;losed; 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, thrusting half his head through the doorway.) "Mr. Eustace Jones, sir, have some readin' gentlemen to tea with him, sir. His is alius teas. Inexpensive and satis- lyin .
Of this mathematical gentleman it might be •said, as it was of somebody else, I believe —
"Tea venicnte die, tea decedentc blbebat;"
Memoirs of Mr. G alight ly. 8
o
which our huly readers will pardon us for render- ing thus —
" Tea he drank with the morning light: 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 pcrrpii-
u 2
84 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
sites of an indoor servant out of livery, at the two Universities, is called at each hy a different
name.
" At Cambridge ' gyp,' at Oxford ' scout,' Collegians call the idle lout Who bmshes 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 yvJ/, or aiyuTnde, 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 miffht 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 Illr. Golightly. 85
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, INIiss Harriet; reserving for IMonday 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 deah 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, lie did not stammer when he wrote — or sang) " in the letter I wrote to Aunt
86 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Dorothea. I must say, I like Cambridge very well, but I feel rather strange. I have not yet found out who screwed me in. I have not been screwed in since ; but, as somebody is screwed in. every night, I am expecting it again. Now I know all about it, I am not at all afraid ; as Sneek, the servant — or gyp, as he is called — can always * dig me out,' as they call it. Pokyr calls it ' un- earthing.' He is a very agreeable fellow, but rather given to practical jokes — things I very much dislike. I am sure, I should never think of playing a practical joke upon anybody. Then why should I be joked] is a question I ask myself. Yesterday morning, having attended the early ser- vice in chapel, and breakfasted, I left the col- lege for what I had been told was the University Church ('Varsity Church they call it, as you know). I dressed myself, as George told me, in my cap and gown. I put on bands like those you wear on Sundays — of which I was induced to pur- chase six pairs (they may be useful to you, and I will bring them when I come home for the vaca- tion)— my lavender kid gloves that Aunt Harriet gave me ; and, as the day was showery, I took my green silk umbrella. I noticed that I was stared at as I walked along the streets ; and when I arrived at what I liad been told was the University
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. Z']
Church, and was trying to open the iron gate — ■which, as it was t^vo minutes past eleven, I thought had probably been closed — I was startled by a loud laugh. It was Pokyr — who, with a friend named Blaydes, and an Indian gentleman, Calipee by name, were laughing very loudly at me. I saw at once that I was the victim of a hoax. Mr. Blaydes took off my bands ; INIr. Calipee told me to put my lavender gloves in my pocket ; and Mr. Pokyr said he would take care of my umbrella — 'mushroom' was the term he used. I found my umbrella was what he meant, as he took it from me. What he did with it I don't know. I have not seen it since. It had disappeared a minute afterwards, for I observed that he was not carry- ing it. The place was not a church, but the Uni- versity Printing Press. The architecture is eccle- siastical, and hence my mistake. You will say, ' Do not be imposed upon a second time.' I pro- mise you, I will not. Perhaps, if I had remem- bered your advice, I might have been more upon my guard. At the corner of a street we met a gentleman, De Bootz by name. I mention him because, as you are fond of genealogical studies, the arms of his family may interest you. Pokyr says they are on a field ermine, a boot stagnant, proper ; crest, a spur ; and motto, ' Usque ad finem
The Ca77ibridge Freshman; or,
luceaV — 'Shine to the last.' Mr. De Bootz was ahead of us Avhen Pokyr told me this; and Mr. Blaydes added, ' I believe that man's great great great grandfather invented blacking.' If so, the arms are very appropriate, and 3-ou won't think any the worse of him for this. Mr. De Bootz took us to the back parlour of a small cigar shop in Brownlow-street, where we found some other gen- tlemen drinking beer out of a huge flagon. Here they introduced me to a Miss Bellair — the Brown- street Venus, as she is called. She seems a very lively and amiable young lady, and deservedly popular, as her manners are very agreeable. Her mother was present also. It is her mother's cigar shop. After dinner, we had some wine and des- sert in Pokyr's room. He says he always keeps a chapel religiously once a-week ; so we all went in surplices, as it was Sunday. Sherry never used to disagree with me; but I felt very confused, and rather giddy. However, to keep myself awake, I read this sentence — which I found on the fly-leaf of the battered Prayer Book which was in my seat — ninety-one times during the service, keeping count of the number of the times. It was as fol- lows:— ' Strongbeerium coUegianum bibcre malum est justum antequam in chapcllam incas.' It is, as you will perceive, dog Latin; and I felt it was pe-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 89
culiarly applicable to me, and to sherry as well as beer; accordingly, I shall be very careful in future. I think it was the heat of the gas and candles. With kind regards to you all, I will here close this letter."
Our hero had given a promise many times to the members of his family, individually and collectively, that he would faithfully report to them the various incidents of his life; and, as will be seen, he en- tered upon this course at once. But he found very soon that he could not keep it up with advantage to all parties, and therefore it has Imppened that this history is a biography instead of an autobio- graphy. INIr. Samuel Adolphus had, in the next few da\s immediately following his Sunday visit to the home of the Brown-street Venus, so far im- proved his opportunities, that he already felt him- self very deeply in love. With that rashness and utter regardlessness of all ulterior consequences which is characteristic of the first attack of the great passion, our hero was seated in his easy chair, turning over in his mind the propriety of at once laying his virgin heart at the feet of his bewitching inamorata, and wondering what his Aimt Dorothea would say when he introduced Miss Bellair to the party at the Rectory as his
90 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
bride, when lie was aroused by a timid tap at his door.
" Come in," cried our hero, his heart beating fast and nervously.
A little boy — a precocious little boy he had not the slightest difficulty in recognizing as Mrs. Bel- lair's errand boy — entered, cap in hand, and pre- sented to Mr. Golightly's notice a tiny, scented, pink note.
He opened it hastily, and devoured the contents — as novelists say. These were as follows: —
" Dear Mr. Golightly — I cannot misinterpret your conduct. Your heart is young, tender, warm. You love me. Dare I say, without for an instant seeming to throw aside the veil of woman's modesty — her brightest jewel — that, from the moment I first saw you, I felt that there was something about you I had observed in no one else? Oh! do not, I pray you, put a wrong construction on these inno- cent words, written without guile at the prompting of Cupid; but the constraint under which we meet in Brown-street is too great for my nerves. So many are round, and my mamma is so very watch- ful over her daughter's conduct, we can never be alone. Say you A^ill meet me, then, in half an hour, at the Backs, beneath the third elm tree,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 91
opposite the gate of St. Mary's. There no one shall hear, but the -winds of heaven only be lis- teners to the words we speak. If I have not mistaken your feeHngs — come. If I have — which Heaven forbid! — breathe not this confession to mortal ears, as you are a gentleman, and an orna- ment to that gown you wear. — Ever yours (in a flutter of hope),
" Emily Bellair." " No. 91, Brown-street."
"Is there an answer, sir, please]" asked the precocious boy. " I was to wait for an answer."
"Who sent you?" demanded Mr. Golightly, in breathless haste. " Who sent your*
" Missis, sir."
" AVait one instant," said our hero, fumbling in his waistcoat pocket for a shilling, and nearly giving the messenger of Cupid a sovereign by mis- take.
Having done this, he retired to his bed-room, and read the missive again and again. He sponged his temples, heated with the delirious whirl of hope and love conflicting in his breast.
Calmer after this operation, he emerged from his bed-chamber; and, addressing the boy as uncon- cernedly as he could, said —
92 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
" The only answer is — Yes I"
He was under the trees at the back of his college for some minutes before the half-hour had elapsed, with the precious pink note still in his hand.
True to her time, the lady came.
How was it, then, that, when the thick veil "which had enshrouded her features fell to the ground — how^ was it that, "when ]Mr. Golightly, on his knees, was vowing eternal love, a cruel gust of wind tore off the cloak and revealed the form, not of Emily Bellair, but the startling truth that the illustrious hero of this history was at the feet of Miss Jane Sneek, daughter of Mr. John Sneek,
gyp^
The further account of this surprising matter is too important for the end of a chapter. "With it "we begin Chapter VI.
^i^-^
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly.
CHAPTER VI.
IN WHICH IT IS SATISFACTORILY EXPLAINED HOW IT CAME TO PASS THAT MISS JANE SNEEK APPEARED IN THE PLACE OF MISS BELLAIR.
^"X the present chapter of this eventful his- tory, our friend and able coadjutor, "Phiz," favours us with the portraiture of Mr. Go- lightly at the feet of Miss Sneek, the only daughter of the worthy personage who introduced himself as jNIr. Sneek, gyp, and whose Christian name of John was at the same time imparted by the com- municative Mrs. Cribb.
It remains for us, in accordance with the pro- mise which brought our chapter to a sufficiently exciting conclusion, to commence the present one by clearing up this mysterious substitution of one young lady for another, by a full and complete ex- planation of what took place both before and after, as well as on the momentous occasion itself.
We will plunge at once in medias res — or "begin
94 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
in the middle," as the little boy remarked when he bit the rosy-cheeked apple. Our hero, as has be- fore been recounted, was at his post — or rather, tree — some minutes before the time fixed for his meeting with Miss Emily Bellair by the sender of the pink note. He had no particular difficulty in discovering the spot indicated in the billet, as there were only three trees opposite the gate of St. Mary's College which oj^ened on to the Backs, and as those three trees were, though stripped of their leaves by the rough autumnal blasts — there had been a high wind ten days before — unmistak- ably elms. Indeed, it only required such a know- ledge of arithmetical science as will enable a man to count three correctly to discover which of those elms was the third elm. Mr. Golightly possessed the requisite knowledge; and, with characteristic promptitude, began to count the trees. Here he found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Count- ing from left to right, there stood the third elm. Counting from right to left, tliere stood the third elm. Metaphorically speaking, the trees changed places by the process; for No. 1 became No. 3.
Revolving this matter in his mind, he happily thought of a not very new, and perhaps not very true, classical quotation, wliich applied to his own case; and sa}ing to himself, "under the middle
MejHoirs of Air. Go lightly. 95
tree you will be safest," he stationed himself under the spreading branches of elm No. 2. The trees being only a few yards apart, he could easily see all three from the spot where he stood.
However, he did not stand still more than a second or two. His feelings were wrought up to fever heat by the missive he held in his hand. Ac- cordingly, he calmed his agitated breast, though only in a slight degree, by pacing up and down the gravel walk in front of the elm trees. In his fond clasp he still enfolded the pink note; and, while he waited for the writer, he read and re-read it several times.
The principal objects that were conspicuous in the scenery by which he was surrounded were the noble trees of stately growth which form the long avenue at the backs of the colleges. And, as he did not know from what point of the compass the fair Miss Bellair would approach their appointed trysting-place, our hero strained his eyes in his efforts to make their vision penetrate farther into the fast-gathering twilight of the autumn after- noon than any lover's eyes, constructed upon the common optical principles, were capable of doing.
At length — for, to the imagination of love, time flew that afternoon with very faltering wing, and
g6 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
seconds seemed hours, and minutes days and nights — as Mr. Gohghtly was very intently gazing in one direction, his quick ear detected approaching foot- steps in that opposite — soft footfalls, but fast. Oh, thought of rapture! Was it Miss Bellair? He wheeled round suddenly, in an imposing, military manner. He rather regretted that he was not in full academicals, as she had said the gown was an ornament to him — or stay, that he was an orna- ment to the gown he wore. Which was it? There was no time to decide ; for there, advancing with a step and mien worthy — as our hero thought — of any fabled fairy princess, came a lady down the walk from the college which he himself had trod- den, muffled and closely veiled, with a modesty as charming as it was becoming to the most graceful and candid of her sex. The lady was close to him. Mr. Golightly was near-sighted — a distinction he inherited from his mother ; but there could be no mistake, it was the figure of Emily Bellair. He felt somewhat embarrassed. He had never been placed in similar circumstances before. Somehow, he wished he had had a few minutes longer to think over some neatly turned and appropriate poetic speech. His heart went pit-a-pat with irregular beatings. His throat felt dry. His voice seemed to have tucked itself away
JMcmoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 97
ill as distant u place as it could. His courage, however, did not for one instant fail.
" A-h-m ! " said he—" a-li-m !"
Was it possible that, through her thick veil, Miss Bellair did not recognize him'? It seemed almost as if this were the case, for she continued her walk, and actually passed him, though at a slower pace.
Equal to this emergency, and breathing an in- nocent imprecation upon thick veils, Mr. Golightly instantly placed himself at the lady's side. They vsalked onwards for a few steps in silence.
" A-h-m ! a-Miss Bellair — may I venture — that is, may I dare to— t-a-ake the liberty of addressing you as Emily V
"What does this mean"?" said a musical voice, in its softest and most dulcet tones.
Eearing he had proceeded too hastily in the matter, and asked his first question too abruptly, Mr. Golightly continued, in his most captivating manner —
" Pray pardon me, Miss Bellair ; but, from the terms of that note which I hold in my hand " — here our hero pressed his hand, with the precious note in it, to his manly heart, in the most approved style of half-hoping, half-doubting lovers. And, ex- cept we believe that the language of love rises
H
98
The Cambridge F^'esh^nan; or,
untaught to the human lips, we may wonder where Mr. Golightly learned these arts.
" What does this mean % " again the lady asked,
with soft accent.
MR. GOLIGHTLY FINDS HIMSELF AT THE FEET OF MISS JANE SNEEK.
She stopped, and looked, from under her veil, full into our hero's face.
*' It m-means," replied the gallant Golightly,
]\Icmoiys of Mr. Go lightly. 99
construing her question as a rebuke for his own mistrustfulness, and an intimation from the lady that apology was quite uncalled for — " It means tliat I am f-fascinated by your — your charms, m-ray dear ^[iss B-bellair."
" Mr. Golightly/' said the lady, softly, " there is some mistake."
" Xot the 1-lcast mistake in the world," replied INIr. Samuel Adolphus. " My intentions are most honourable. L-let me call you Emily— d-do!"
The lady moved a pace or two forwards; Mr. Golightly placed himself elegantly upon his knees immediately in her path. His right hand covered the button of his coat that was over his heart. His hat and the pink note fell on the gravel path together.
"Em-Emily — you do not refuse me that privi- lege V
"I'm generally called Jane, which is my name," the lady was saying, when a sudden gust of wind blew off her veil, and revealed to our much-as- tonished hero the features of Miss Sneek.
lie was completely dumbfoundered — to use a Scotch phrase — by the shock his astonished nerves received. He looked down, abashed, at the gravel, trying to collect his thoughts, and recover his self- possession. When he looked up again, and was
II 2
lOO The Cambridge FresJiDian; or^
about to offer an explanation of his conduct and account satisfactorily for his present attitude, the lady was gone. Miss Sneek had fairly taken to her heels and run.
" Gr-gracious ! " said Mr. Golightly, fointly.
He was preparing to rise, and looking about him for his hat and the pink note, when he felt a gentle knock at his back. Startled and alarmed, he looked quickly round, and, to his utter confusion, beheld Mr. Pokyr's tall and athletic figure immediately be- hind him, with his hands spread over him in an attitude of benediction. At a few paces from Mr. Pokyr were three other gentlemen Mr. Golightly had no difficulty in recognizing as Mr. Calipee, Mr. Jamaica Blaydes, and Mr. De Bootz. One or two others Avere there, also, with whom he was not personally acquainted.
"Mr. Golightly, sir,'"' said Mr. Pokyr, sternly, " pray explain yourself What is the meaning of this unseemly attitude \ '"'
Mr. Samuel slowly rose, and stared vacantly around him.
" Put on your hat, sir."
" I-I don't l^now what I've d-done Avith my hat," Mr. Golightly replied, placing his hands on his head, to assure himself it was not there.
"Is this your property^' asked Mr. Blaydes,
Monoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. lOi
holding forth to view a pink note, somewhat the worse for wear.
"I-it certainly — that is, it w-was," replied our hero.
" I move that it be read," remarked Calipee, talking as if he were at the Union on a Thursday night.
" Have you any objection, Golightly \ " asked ]\Ir. Blaydes.
Our hero was now fairly surrounded by his friends.
" I would really r-rather you would not," said !)Ir. Golightly, plaintively.
" I think we must read it," said Mr. Pokyr.
Had ^Ir. Golightly's frame of mind been more calm, he might have perceived that, as his friend Pokyr carried his threat into execution, he did not require to refer much to the document itself: he seemed to know the contents almost by heart. This, however, our hero fliiled to observe, being, not unnaturally, absorbed in the peculiar circum- stances of the situation. The letter was read from beginning to end by ]Mr. Pokyr — the reader being many times interrupted by the gentlemen above- named, and by several others Avho had joined them — accidentally, of course. These interruptions con- sisted chiefly of cheers and congratulations. Under
102 The Cambridge F^'eshman; or,
different circumstances, Mr. Golightly would, with his natural politeness, have acknowledged these marks of attention and esteem ; as it was, he stood in the midst of the little knot of admirers that sur- rounded him, simply stupefied.
"All this must be explained," said Mr. Pokyr, when he had finished reading the note. " I must take care of this epistle myself."
" Others are interested," said Mr. Blaydes. " Other men are in love with Miss Bellair."
" They will be jealous, Golightly."
" There is Tommy Chutney, over head and cars in love," said Calipee, mournfully.
" Put your hat on, Golightly," said Pokyr. " It is disgraceful to see you out here without a hat."
" I wish I could," replied the hero of this his- tory, looking appealingly round for his hat, but altogether unsuspicious of foul play.
" There is the dinner bell," said Pokyr. "Come back to your rooms for your cap and gown. Did you come out without your hat \ "
" Cer-certainly not," replied Mr. Golightly, more hurt than indignant. " I had it on, of course."
" Where is it, then ? "
" Come, that won't do for us, Golightly," said ]\Ir. Blaydes.
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 103
"Where did you lunch'? and what was the tipple \ " asked another of his friends.
" I am pl-placcd in an awkward pre-predica- ment," Mr. Golightly began.
" You are, undoubtedly — especially as it is not improbable the tutor saw you."
" We saw a Don in the distance," cried several voices.
At length, !Mr. Golightly was taken under the protection of Pokyr and Blaydes, and, followed by his other friends, was walked off towards his own rooms, which were not many yards distant from the scene of his discomfiture.
" You are a model Freshman," said Blaydes.
!Mr. Golightly felt he was not.
" AVhy did Venus fly from Apollo," asked Pokyr.
" It w-wasn't Miss Bellair," said our hero, apolo- getically.
" Not Miss Bellair — who then?"
" The gyp's daughter."
" Sneek's ? " said Mr. Pokyr, sternly. " Go- lightly, you are a disgrace to us ! What can you see to admire in her \ "
" But I don't admire her."
" Then why were you on your knees'?" urged Blaydes.
" I will explain all," said our hero, taking refuge
104 ^^<^ Cambridge Freshman ; or,
in his own rooms, and heartily -wishing he conlcl find some excuse for not going into Hall to din- ner.
" Yes, we demand an explanation of this affair," said Mr. Pokyr. " An explanation is tlie least you can give us."
" Meet with it, I vote," said Mr. Calipee, emerg- ing from his rooms in cap and gown.
During dinner, Mr. Golightly was made the butt of many harmless little pleasantries ; and the pink note, and various not very accurate versions of the affair of love, went the round of Mr. Pokyr's set. Our hero retreated as soon as he had swallowed some mouthfuls of dinner: it became apparent to him that he was being rallied upon his late adven. ture.
He made his way across the quad, and, rushing "up his staircase, gained his own rooms, pulling to the door after him — or, as the phrase is, " sporting his oak" — for the sake of privacy. He felt it ne- cessary to be alone, that he might devise some scheme of action worthy of himself and his father's son.
But he was mistaken: ho was not the only oc- cupant of his room. Near his fireplace stood INIr. Sncek, in an unusual and defiant posture. The weight of his rather corpulent person was thrown
Memoirs of Mr. G alight ly. 105
upon his right extremity, wliilc his left ditto was slightly advanced. One hand was behind his back, the other pnlled a curly lock of hair that graced his classic forehead.
" Good hevennin', sir," said ^Ir. Sneek, taking the initiative in the discussion.
Mr. Golightly forgot his recent interview with Miss Sneek for the moment.
" Evening, Sneek," he said, in answer to the gyp's salutation, and without noticing the tone of mingled injury and defiance in which it was ut- tered.
"Good heve — nin', sir!" observed Mr. Sneek, with increased emphasis and rising colour.
" You have brought up some coals'? The coal- scuttle was empty before dinger, I know," con- tinued Mr. Golightly, glancing rather nervously at the receptacle for his coals.
lie recollected his little affair with Mr. Sneek's daughter; and, with an unerring instinct, he felt sure her papa had come with the intention of ask- ing an explanation, or '' kicking up a row." Mr. Golightly did not, at this early period of his under- graduate career, know of that speedy way out of almost all Cambridge troubles, where only a "cad's" wounded feelings are in the case. He was igno- rant of that healing balm — that salve of boundless
ic6 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
power — that silver key, potent to open every door as any fairy " open sesame." Had he fortunately knoAvn of this magic talisman, it Avould have ma- terially relieved his feelings; as it was, he felt con- siderably embarrassed as he seated himself on the edge of his sofa.
" There his coals m your box, if you please, sir," said Mr. Sneek, giving the curl a pull, and making a low bow. " Hand there is, likewise, coals in your gyp-room, sir; hand, I 'ope, as long as you keep on this staircase, coals — hif required — will alius be found at 'and. But it is not of coals I wish to say a word or two, sir — with permission" — here Mr. Sneek bowed lower than before — " and not taking no pertickler libbatty, I 'ope, sir."
The honest man smiled within himself — "tickled inly with laughter/' in I'act — when he had brought this speech to a satisfactory conclusion. He eyed Mr. Golightly, his master, as a snake might view a fine plump pigeon before he swallowed him up. His master devoutly wished that he had not "sported" his door, but left it open. He wanted Pokyr or his cousin George to come in, to put the gyp to flight. But the door was fiist, and assist- ance could not come. This fact was not lost upon IMr. Sneek.
Memoirs of Air. Golightly. 107
In turn our hero bowed, as an intimation to Mr. Sneek to proceed.
" The subjcck I should "vvish to mention, sir — under permission, sir — is delicate to a parent's feelin's."
Here ]\rr. Sneek sighed heavily — threw the weight of his body on his left leg — which bent and bowed slightly under it — advanced his right foot to the position his left had lately occupied, rolled his eyes about in an alarming manner, and placed the disengaged hand upon the place where his heart might be supposed to be.
*'G-go on," said his master, nervously; as one who would say, " I deserve it all."
" My daughter, sir, she says to me, when I was quietly a-taking my pint of buttery beer, usual at tea, she says to me — rushin' in of a sudden, and puttin' her mother into a state as nothin', I assure you, sir, on my word, but six of pale brandy neat got her round again — she says to me, my daughter says — ' Father.' ' Well, Jane,' I harnsered. ' Mr. Golightly, the new gentleman on your staircase, have behaved most extraordinary; and father,' she says — with your leave, sir — ' I think the gentle- man's mad.' "
"M-mad!" ejaculated our hero. " No doubt — no doubt."
io8 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
" 'Madr says I. *Mr. Goliglitly aint mad, not ill the least' — thinkin' the gal was making game on me. ' Well, father,' my daughter says, ' he ^yent right down on his knees.' "
" Too true," sighed Mr. Samuel.
" Xow, sir," said Mr. Sneek, with much dignity, *' my feelin's as a father— and as a parent — was hurt. ' Jane,' I said, ' your char-«cter is beyond dispute.' With permission, sir, may I ask the meanin' of this extraordinary conduct on your part towards a innocent and inoffensive young person]"
Mr. Golightly gave his gyp the best explanation he could of the affair.
" 'Oaxed is what you've been, sir, and no mistake ; but docs that pour comfort into a pa- rent's wounded bo-som, or restore a daughter's feelin'sr'
After some broad hints from Mr. Sneek, our hero perceived that a tip Avould put all right. He gave it readily. Mr. Sneek pocketed it with equal readi- ness. Holdiug the door ajar, he said —
" Which, sir, you've behaved in the matter like a genelman, and I'm satisfied of your havin' been victimised. I hope I shall always show my grati- tude. Shall I shut the door, sirr'
" If you please."
Ulcnioirs of Mr. Golightly. 109
With an expression of delight upon his features, the gyp did as he was directed. He was just hum- ming a favourite air when he was confronted by his daughtc]'. The hum gave place to a long, low whistle.
" Halves, father," said Miss Sneek, holding out her hand, and looking majestically inexorable.
" Halves — what do you meanr'
" I've been a listenin' outside, tie's gev you a sovereign. I know he has, so don't deny it, for it s no use."
Mr. Sneek vowed and protested all the way home, but to no purpose. He found himself in the position of one of Byron's heavy fathers, whose strong-minded daughter thus addressed him: —
" I knew your nature's firmness. Know your daughter's too!"
Like that lady. Miss Sneek was not to be put off with promises — to come due at the end of the term. All she vouchsafed by way of reply to her father's eloquent protestations was said in one word — " Halves."
1 10 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
CIIAPTEU VII.
IX THIS CHAPTER, OUR HERO MAKES THE ACQUAIXT- AXCE OF A DESCENDANT OF THE IRISH KINGS, WHO SOUNDS THE BUGLE OF WAR IN HIS EARS.
^T was not at all likely that a gentleman who had always inculcated in the mind of his son and heir the necessity of punc- tuality and promptitude to success in life, in all its multifarious walks, would long neglect to reply to his son's first letter from the University. Guile- less, hut not unambitious, the llcverend Samuel Golightly, Rector of Oakingham, had, from his son's earliest years, laid himself out to form his character upon a model after his own heart. This model, as Ave stated in a former chapter, was a bold admixture of Chesterfield engrafted upon Bacon ; and although, as a father, it was the Rec- tor's first wish and darling hope tliat liis son should become a man of the world, after liis own peculiar ideal conception of that character in its perfection.
Memoirs of Mr. Goli^htly. 1 1 1
still, as a parson of the Church of England, ortho- dox, and brimful of belief in all things of authority, the Reverend Samuel Golightly proposed, within his heart of hearts, to add to the compound of cha- racter above mentioned a third element — namely, a loyal and pious devotion to Church and Queen. "SVe have before hinted that Mr. Golightly, senior, entertained in liis full mind, now more pregnant than ever with great thoughts, the notion that his son and heir would become early in life a distin- guished man, and that some of the superfluous eclat arising from his doings in the great world of men might happily be reflected upon his father. We claim for this notion, on behalf of the genial Rector of Oakingham-cum-Pokeington, no extra- ordinary measure of originality. Many fathers have entertained similar opinions of the genius of their respective progeny, both male and female: opinions which have in various instances met with a greater or less degree of realization, according to the circumstances of their peculiar cases ; for, as I have often heard the Rector observe, and notably on occasions when after dinner he tells the talc of his having been attacked by the favourite bull of the tenant who farms his glebe land, "Man," he is in the habit of saying, " is, after all, but the crea- ture of circumstances. I might not have been
112 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
alive now to tell you tlie story had it not been for Presence of Mind and a green gingham umbrella, which I commonly carry when walking in the fields in bad weather. By the bye, gingham is a fabric which every day is less used among us." For such — if, in this hypercritical age, I may be permitted to make use of an ugly word — is the universality of my friend's mind, that it is no unusual thing for him to drop from metaphysical speculation or po- lemical discussion to the common objects of every- day life ; exempli gratia, as in the present instance from Presence of Mind to gingham gowns : as he himself observes on such occasions, "One thing very often suggests another." And this many-sidedness — so to speak — of the Sector's mind the better fits him for his duties in the high calling of a country parson ; for though in the pulpit he treats often of a Sunday of those holy mysteries of our faith which, to his judgment, the most require exposition and explanation at his hands, yet on the other days of the week he is never unwilling or unready to enter into the most minute details of domestic economy which are necessary to the welfare of his flock. Nevertheless, bcth in the pulpit and at the cottage door, the Rector ever speaks with tlie conscious authority of the Church, but with all the kindliness of the truest of friends ; and, not to speak too dis-
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 1 1 3
respectfully, his portliness of figure and almost episcopal bearing greatly enhance his qualification for performing the former of these functions to ad- miration. The sentiments he utters to this day among his parishioners, when they consult him upon their worldly affairs, are, as nearly as may be, the same as those with which he enlightened them when first he was inducted into the living of Oak- ingham, upon the nomination of that honoured gentleman and soldier, his father. And in the Church his sermons are year after year identically the same ; for, by an ingenious device of overturn- ing an old oak cabinet with silver inlaid rims, which is an heirloom in the family, and is believed to be made of the very Oak which providentially lent its friendly shelter to King Charles, and is turned to this reverent use partly on that account, the Rector contrives to begin on the first Sunday in January of every year with the sermon he preached on the first Sunday of the year preceding it. And so he goes through his stock of sermons seriatim and in their proper order, only writing a new discourse and sub- stituting it for one of his old ones on such occasions as he touches upon politics in the pulpit, which are very rare. These sermons, together with three he has preached before the honourable the Judges of Assize at the county town, when his brother, the
I
1 14 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Squire, was High Sheriff of the county, he intends some day to pubhsh under the title of " Sermons for Special Occasions," by the Reverend Samuel Golightly, M.A., Hector of the parish of Oaking- ham and rural dean. All these sermons are very sound in their theology, and safe guides against heterodoxy, heresy, and all schism. It has often been remarked that the best sermons preached in the parish are the Sunday afternoon discourses of Mr. Morgan ; and the Eector is very ready to give honour where honour is due, and feels no jealousy whatever at his curate's successes.
AVe have been gossiping sadly in entering upon these family details ; but our excuse is that the Golightlys are a family in which the son so com- monly takes after the parent, that, in affording this information concerning some traits of the father's character, we are really helping our readers to ap- preciate the peculiarities of the son's, the after- w^ards-to-become-famous hero of this history. "We have said that Mr. Goliglitly, senior, hoped to have some little share of his son's honours reflected upon himself. The question which arose was one which, at first sight, does not appear to be very easy of solution — how was the Kector to connect himself with his son ? How was the world to know, un- less duly advertised of the luct, that the Samuel
Maiioirs of Mr, GoUghtly. i r 5
Adolphus Goliglitly, of the University, the Bar, and the Senate, was the son of the Hector of Oaking- ham] After some days had been devoted to the study of this problem, the reverend gentleman was struck with the happy notion of applying to his copy of Lord Chesterfield's writhigs for assistance out of his difficulty. Pie had hardly done more than warmed his feet at his study fire, and read a few favourite passages, when he felt himself the subject of a thrill that vibrated from his toes to his spectacles. Here was the very idea. It had come, like the inspirations of all true genius, unexpectedly and in a moment. In this v/ay it crossed the Rec- tor's mind —
" Why not ' Letters from the Eector of Oakinjj- ham-cuni-Pokeington to his Son at the University'? Why not? Why, of course. I wonder it never struck me before."
Mr. Golightly rose, divested himself of the loose coat he wore in the study, put on his black swallow- tail, and went down to the draAving-room without more ado, and there intimated his intention to his family, though only in a sort of mysterious whisper — for the idea was as yet very new, and hardly matured in his mind.
" I hope you will not overwork yourself, Samuel, my dear," said his wife; "that is all. I am afraid,
ii6 The Cambridge Freshman; oi",
if you are so very active in the parish affairs and with Sunday duty too, it is ahnost too much. I am sure, I wish you had not left off hunting ; and I have often said so."
" But, my dear, I weigh nearly sixteen stone, I'm sure."
" But look at Squire Potterton — he weighs nearly twenty, I know."
" I am not Squire Potterton, my dear," said the Rector, quietly.
" I hope, if ever they are printed, it will not be at your own expense, brother," said Miss Dorothea, who was a very carefid spinster in all money mat- ters. " Think of that gentleman you once had here as locum tenens, when you were away. Poor man, he was always talking of the expense he had been put to over a volume of sermons ; and at last he had to give them all away, except the boxful he kept for himself"
" Time will show," said the Pector. There was a triumphant twinkle in his bright eye as he went upstairs again to his study.
This little domestic incident had occurred some months before our hero quitted the bosom of his family to be received in that of Alma ]Mater. lie was spending a week at the Hall with his uncles and cousins at the time The distance between
Memoh's of Mr. Golightly. 117
the Hall and the Tvectory was not great enough to allow his father to begin then. Accordingly, the first of this remarkable series of letters — which was begun with the intention of connecting the hidden talent of the parent with the reputation of the son — was deferred until the time of which we now write. In the hands of our professional story-tell- ers, long letters at frequent intervals between the heroines and their confidantes are often the most boring parts of stupid books ; therefore, I shall at once set the not unreasonable apprehensions of my readers at rest on this score : the Hector's letters do not appear set out at length as an ingredient portion of this history. But of these famous pro- ductions we only have occasion to give one or two, which may well serve as a sample of the rest: for, as my friend the Rector says sometimes — and not- ably of one family in the parish, in which all the children are much alike in feature and character, having indeed what in that part of the country are called Apple Dumpling faces — "^16 uno disce omnes;" making use of his Latin, in which he has the repute of being a proficient, in such cases as he finds tlic vulgar tongue insufficient to express all the meaning he desires to convey. The noble Stanhope began to write his letters to Stanhope, junior, when that envoy-extraordinary in embryo
ii8 The Canib7'idge Freshman; or,
was in nankeen breeches and a blue coat with gilt buttons, at the early age of five. The Rector of Oakingham felt that, as a system of educational philosophy, his letters would suffer from his first bei^inninc: to write them when his son had so nearly arrived at man's estate ; but as they had never been separated from each other for more than a few days at a time, and often on such occa- sions only an adjoining parish divided them, Mr. Golightly the elder held that, up to the period of his son's leaving home, the labour of epistolary correspondence would have been in some degree supererogatory.
The first of these letters is given to the reader just as it reached Mr. Golightly, junior, at St. Mary's, word for word, and without alteration or addition of any sort. '• My dear Son," it began — the Rector decided upon this form of commencing his letter after much debating in his own mind, for he was Avell aware that his illustrious prototype always began his epistles with "My dear Friend;" but the Rector felt that the custom of this age would hold the latter style cold — therefore his decision.
" My dear Son — In these parts, removed alike from the bustle of commercial ]\Iarts, the ceaseless
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 1 1 9
intrigues of Courts, and the elevated disputations of those ancient seats of learning and seminaries of sound knowledge and religious education, in one, and not the less distinguished, of which — for their merits are equal — you are now happily located, we are still engaged in the same dull round of ephe- meral and hebdomadary duties and pursuits in ■which you left us. But you, my dear boy, move in a more extended and spacious sphere ; therefore, I beg of you, lose no opportunity of making your- self intimately acquainted with the manifold pas- sions, peculiarities, and desires of Man the micro- cosm— "
"The phraseology is almost Johnsonian," Mr. ^Morgan said, knowing that Avhcn the Rector, who was reading the letter to him, came to a pause, he expected a compliment.
Mr. Golightly smiled, bowed, and went on —
"I.ose, then, no opportunity of mixing with men ol all sorts and conditions ; for I esi)ccially desire you to possess les manieres cVun honncte homme, ct le ton de la parfaitement bonne compagnie — and this is the surest way to acquire them. I have no doubt the heat of the candles affected you in the college chapel. I have often noticed a change
1 20 The Ca7nbi^idge Freshmafi ; or,
myself when, on a Sunday afternoon in winter, Bumpy — as you always called the beadle when you were a child — lighted the four candles to warm the air a little above the pulpit, and to en- able me to see my book. But in the matter of drinking wine, be cautious ; leave port to us old fellows, and adhere strictly to the lighter beve- rages of France and the Rhine. Viniim Mosella- niim est omni tempore sanum. Vinum Rhenanum is probably the same, and sana mens in sano cor- pore the result of drinking sound and light wines. Lastly, remember my advice, and try to be at all times cool, calm, and collected, and to rise equal to any occasion. Timorous minds are much more inclined to deliberate than to resolve. Let not little things disturb your equanimity, ^quam memento rehiis in ardiiis servare mentem: be neither transported nor depressed by the incidents of life.
" P.S. — All desire their kindest regards. Have you called yet on Mr. Smith"?"
This letter — in the matter of quotation, at all events — was not a bad imitation of the style of the distinguished man whose Letters have handed his fame down to the memory of posterity.
Our hero had just finished the first perusal of this powerful letter, and was somewhat astonished
Memoirs of Air. Golij^htly. 121
at the Avay in which his Fa could "come out" upon occasion ; further, he was just going to reach down his dictionary, for the purpose of aiding liim in making a rough translation of the several classical quotations — for the predisposition of our hero's mind being rather mathematical than classical, he was not a " dab " at translation at first sight — when there was a very loud knock at his door, and ' — without waiting for any " Come in," or other form of polite invitation to enter — in walked Mr. Pokyr and Mr. Blaydes.
" I think, if I were you, I Avould advertise for them," said Mr. Pokyr, in a confidential way.
"Advertise for whaf?" asked Mr. Golightly, in- nocently.
"Why, for your hat and your umbrella, of course," replied his friend, with decision. " You haven't found themT'
" N-no — I have not — that is, yet," said our hero, at first despondingly, and then more hopefully of the recovery of his chattels.
"The question I ask is, where are they]" said Mr. Pokyr.
" Precisely what I say — where can they have got tol" continued Mr. Blaydes, in his turn.
" Gentlemen," said Mr. Golightly, with the pre- occupied air of one who had exhausted all specula-
122 The Camh'idge Freshman; or,
tion on the painful subject — " Gentlemen, I have asked myself that question."
"And echo answered ' Where"? ' I suppose," said ISIr. Pokyr. "Golightly, my dear boy, you must advertise for them. It is the usual thing, is it not, Blaydesr'
i\Ir. Golightly understood Mr, Blaydes to cor- roborate the statement of their common friend.
"Cambridge is a queer place. You must try to conform to ye manners and ye customs of ye place and period, or you will be thought singular," said Mr. Pokyr.
" I wish to do so — in all things, I'm sure," re- sponded Mr. Gohghtly — who, so far in his under- graduate career, had found many things new to him, " ]My Fa — that is, my father — often said to me, 'Do not be a round man in an angular hole'" — his friends laughed — " or stay, I would not be quite sure," our hero proceeded ; " perhaps it was ' an angular man in a round hole.' It was one of these two, I'm sure. Yes, it was. My Fa used to say, too, 'At Pome do as Pome does.' He once visited Pome in the Spring, Pokyr. He means, of course — "
" JNly dear boy, of course we know what your dear Fa means. Don't explain."
*'But to come to business," said Mr. Blaydes,
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 123
joining Pokyr in interrupting our hero's anecdote of the Rector.
" Ah ! business," said tlie latter,
"Advertisements, you know," said Mr. Blaydes.
" Yes — in what paper 1"
" On small handbills, I advise," said Mr. Pokyr.
"I don't know what is customary; in flict, I am not ashamed to confess that I never wrote an advertisement for lost property in my life."
" Perhaps you never lost anything before."
" Oh, yes ! — very often — I often forget things — my purse, you recollect, the day I came."
" I recollect — I recollect," said Mr. Pokyr, hastily. " But there is no time to be lost : the bill ought to be printed to-night. I'll get it done for you. Now, let us have pons, ink, and paper."
Our hero produced his desk.
"You dictate — I will write. Fancy you arc Napoleon the Great, and I am one of your sixteen secretaries, all writing at once, and dasli it off like a man."
"No — you flatter me, Pokyr. I'm not like Na- poleon the Great. You don't think so." " What shall I write T' asked his friend. " I-I leave it all to you."
124 The Cambridge Freshman; or.
Without any trouble or apparent mental effort, Mr. Pokyr composed the following handbill : —
LOST,
BY A GENTLEMAN OF ST. I^IARY'S COLLEGE,
A HAT and an UMBEELLA.
1^3" THE FINDER WILL BE LIBERALLY REWARDED BY THE OWNER.
APPLY TO THE PORTER AT THE GATE.
*' Bravo," said Jamaica Blaydes.
" That seems capital, I think," said the gentle- man most intimately concerned. " Sh-shall I get them back, do you think \ "
" Sure to do it, my dear boy," exclaimed his friend Pokyr. "A bill like that must be seen. We'll print fifty of them."
" Cambridge is a very honest place," observed Mr. Blaydes. " The only reason that you have not had them back is, in all probability, because the finders don't know where to take them."
" In-deed," said Mr. Golightly, opening his eyes.
" Ya-as,*' said Mr. Pokyr, rising, and — what I believe is termed — tipping the wink to j\Ir. Blaydes.
Memoirs of Illr. Golightly. 125
" Please to read it again," said Mr. Golightly, in his usual irresistible way.
" Certainly — with pleasure, I am sure. Charm- ing little bit of composition, isn't it \ You read it to the gentleman, Blaydes. I don't like reading my own things — never did justice to them in my life."
" Have you written, then, Pokyr \ " asked Mr. Golightly, in astonishment.
" Every member of the Cutlet Club writes," was the epigrammatic and only reply of the Honourable John Pokyr.
This was strictly true — they wrote their names in the members' book. But I do not think that, if a duly elected member were unable to do this, he Avould on that account be refused admission.
Mr. Blaydes, having cleared his throat, and ad- justed the collar of his shirt, now read the handbill as set out above.
" There, tliat will do," said the clever author, rising, and shouting across the quad to his servant, who was just then passing — "Smith."
*' Yes, sir," touching liis hat to his master.
That gentleman, wlio liad flung tlie window open, dropped the "copy" down to his valet below.
" Tell the fellow to have it done to-night. Print fifty of the first edition."
126 The Cambi'idge Freshman; or^
" One moment before he goes," said our hero, nervously. " What is ^ lihemlly rewarded]'"
" Handsomely."
" I mean, how much'?"
" Oh, they'll take anything you like to give them," said Mr. Pokyr, in his offhand way.
" But I should not like to give very much; and I should be sorry if they felt disappointed, or that I had not acted up to my word," was the scrupulous rejoinder.
" What's your mushroom worth V*
" My umbrella was given me. A guinea, per- haps. Yes, I think it would be a guinea at Fud- dleton, you know."
"Oh, say five and twenty bob, out of respect to the donor's feelings. And your 'tile"?"
" Ten and sixpence, I think."
*' One fifteen six, then. Well, say you gave somewhere about double the value — three pounds never mind the 'tizzy' — that would be liberally rewarding the finder."
" It would indeed," sighed our hero, apprehen- sively. " Stay, I would rather not have the bills printed, I think."
" Don't name it; take you a week to write them, if you had Sneek and Cribb to lielp. They can go down to my tick."
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 127
" I don't mean that, exactly. It's the reward. Pray stop your man!"
" He's gone — there by this time. Now we'll help you to drink a glass of your father's capital Madeira."
After dinner that evening, Messieurs Pokyr and Blaydes, accompanied by De Bootz, Browne, and Calipee, strolled into Green's to pass a social hour over the board of green cloth at the game of pool, a diversion at which the players have been likened to the most rascally of pirates, as all their fun consists in " taking lives." Here the gentlemen above named found their friend Fitzfoodel and others of their own particular set already busily employed.
" Where is the Captain to-nighf? 'Pon my ho- nour, this is the first time I ever came into this room when there was a pool on, and he was not in it."
The speaker was Mr. Pokyr; and he had scarcely uttered his remark when, through the oval pane of glass in the door — un which was painted in white letters, " Please wait for the stroke" — a nose was visible — a very red and pimply nose. It was the Captain's nose.
'' Talk of an angel and — " said Mr. Pokyr, as the Captain entered the room.
128 The Ca7nbridge FreslLinan; or.
The Captain was a gentleman of about forty summers. His name was O'Higgins, and he had more than once told most of the people he knew that his family estates were to be found spread- ing their broad acres over a large part of the "West of Ireland. Why he was called the Cap- tain it is difficult to determine, as he had never been in any army. Possibly it had been origin- ally conferred upon him for the reason that the descendant of the ancient Irish kings should have, even in the land of the domineering Saxon, some courtesy title to distinguish him from other men. How it was he came to settle in Cambridge was another inexplicable mystery. Nobody could ac- count for his preference for the flat scenery of the Fen districts over the wild and magnificent landscapes, the castles, mountains, forests, trout streams, and deer parks of his ancestral domain. Another feature in his character was, that he oiilier employed a most negligent person to collect lus princely revenues, or his tenants lived rent \\vv\ for it is certain tliat no portion of his ex- t(Mi>ive rent-roll ever found its way into the pockets of the royally descended owner, the contents of whose capacious pockets generally consisted of pi(HCS of silver known in the profession as billiard sixpences — these being coijs that were sixpences
Memoirs of ]\Ir. Go lightly. 129
once, but, liaving seen many years of active service, had arrived at an intrinsic value of about three- pence each, and passed current at their nominal worth only as "lives" at pool. Pokyr called them the last of the silver plate of the O'lliggins fa- mily; and it was not strange that the silver pos- sessed by the representative of that ancient race should show signs of wear and tear. It is a fact, nevertheless, that how often soever the Captain disposed of them, they always, sooner or later, found their way back to him, as they were ho- noured nowhere else. For the rest, he was a very tall man and a very stout man, and wore a velve- teen coat, and a huge watch chain credulous Fresh- men looked upon as gold. Pokyr said the Cap- tain's nose had cost more to colour than all his own meerschaums put together, and that was say- in cr a irreat deal.
Something of the general character of Timothy Fitzgerald O'lliggins, Esq., of Mount O'Higgins, in the county of Galway, may be learned from another remark of Mr. Pokyr's — namely, that the Captain was " a fellow who smokes his cigars very low; and they have all been given him into the bargain, you know." For this observant young gentleman had often seen the Captain sucking his Havannahs down to the last (piartcr of an incl),
K
130 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
•and then reluctantly parting with even such small •stumps. From this it will readily be inferred -that the Captain had not enjoyed as many of Fortune's smiles as a royal personage ought to rx(^ceive.
" Late to-night, Captain," said Mr. De Bootz, as the scion of royalty removed his brown vel- veteen coat, and hung it carefully on its accus- tomed peg.
" It's late I am," replied Mr. O'Higgins, finding the key of his case, and extracting thence his own private cue.
" Where have you been. Captain, if it's a fair question"?" continued his friend, De Bootz.
" I've been to the Union. Chutney took me to hear him speak."
" What was the row]" asked Pokyr.
" Sir, the subject of debate was, ' That the abo- lition of the practice of Jewelling' (duelling) 'was creditable to English Societee.' Affirmative, Mr. Grenville, of Caius ; negative, Mr. Chutney, of St. Mary's; and now," said the Captain, "you Imow as much as I do myself about it. I won't be the one to catch myself there again in a liurrce."
" Why, Captainr'
" Sir, there's a draught in that Strangers' Gal-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 131
Iciee enough to take a man's head off. And I ■wanted to join you; for, on me honour as a gen- tleman, I lost money here last night."
" Oh!" from several players.
" The last ball is yours, sir," said the marker.
" Would Chutney show fighf?" asked Pokyr, suddenly, after the Captain had made his first stroke.
" Well, I don't know; but if tark goes for any- thing in this countree, he's the verybrath of a boy, and no mistake at arl about it."
After their play Avas over, Mr. Timothy O'Hig- gins went, in the company of Mr. Pokyr, to pay a visit to Chutney's rooms.
The result of the interview was that, in the morning, just as our hero was contemplating the nicely browned mutton chop which had been placed upon his breakfast table, he was startled by a most martially executed rat-tat-tat-tat at his door.
" Come in," he cried.
And in walked the Captain.
With his usual politeness, though considerably astonished, our hero rose to inquire the purport of this unexpected visit. Before, however, he could ask any question, the stranger began the conver- sation.
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132 The Cambridge Freshman ; or,
"Mr. Golightly, I believer'
That gentleman bowed in acknowledgment of his patronymic.
" Allow me, sir, to interojuice meself — me name is O'Higgins."
"Mr. O-OTIigginsr' said our hero, rather ner- vously and very inquiringly.
"TAe O'Higgins, sir, is me prawper title; for me fawthers bore it bee-fore me," said the stranger, in an unpleasantly martial way.
" Indeed, sir," said ]\Ir. Golightly to The O'Hig- gins.
" To be brief, sir, I am the bearer of a message from me friend, Mr. Chutney, which youll do well to attend to at once, for it won't keep at arl!"
" S-S-Sir!" exclaimed our hero, " I haven't the pleasure of knowing Mr. Chutney, though I have heard my cousin and — and others mention his name."
" Indeed, sir — then ye soon will have," said The O'Higgins, M'aving his hand a la militaire; " for I may tell you, me friend Chutney is not the man to be throiflcd with; and, as he has favoured ye with his address at the head of this" — here he handed a letter to our greatly astonished hero — " I'll just ]ave ye to answer it as soon as ye conveniently
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly.
can. Mv. Chutney will be found at home all the marning.''
And with this remark, and a military salute, Mr. Timothy Fitzgerald O'Higgins took his de- parture.
134 The Cambridge FresJwtan; or,
CHAPTEE VIII.
AN INTERMEDIATE CHAPTER BETWEEN THE ONE BEFORE IT AND THE ONE BEHIND IT.
HE society ^yhicll constitutes the little world within the walls of a college is marked by divisions into large parties and small par- ties, pretty much after the same fashion as the society in the great world outside. These parties, again, admit of minute subdivisions into cliques or sects, consisting of a more or less limited number of gentlemen whose tastes, habits, and pursuits may be said to be sufficiently alike to give them objects of interest in common. There are political parties, who fight great battles, with much elo- quence, in the college debating society — where a promising spirit of rancour is fostered between the sons of Tory fathers and the sons of Whig fathers, tending to maintain the integrity of the line which divides those great sections of the nation, on the existence of which, as we all know, the stability,
Memoirs of Mr. GoUghtly. 135
prosperity, and happiness of these realms so largely depend. There are likewise parties in boating affairs, in cricketing, and athletics ; and tremen- dous contests take place, once a term or so, when one party proposes that Mr. A. should be first cap- tain of the boats or president of the athletic club, wliile the other promotes the candidature of Mr. B., and a battle royal ensues between the supporters of these gentlemen. There are parties, too, in matters- of more serious concern than those above mentioned — rchgious factions, that come out in all their might and glory at the end of term, when the election to the offices of precentor and committee-men of the choral society takes place. Then there are the enthusi- astic gentlemen who fit up their gyp-rooms in the loveliest way conceivable, as little oratories, with real kneeling-desks in carved oak, and imitation of stained windows, with shaven-crowned saints, and brazen candlesticks with charming wax candles in them, and brazen vases for flowers, and censers for burning frankincense and myrrh, and incensing the rosy-cheeked little choir boys, in their short white surplices, edged with Nottingham lace, and their purple cassocks made on the most approved pat- tern. True, this use of their gyp-rooms may make it a matter of necessity that their cups and saucers and commons should be kept in what was con-
1 36 The Cambridge Freshman; or^
structed for a coal-box, and their coals in a box ottoman in their bed-rooms ; but of what account are the vanities of this world %
Arrayed in opposition to them, we find a party of gentlemen who regard all musical services with absolute horror, and in whose eyes any ecclesi- astical habiliment more iirononce than a Geneva gown is an abomination, and a potent source of mental and moral disquietude. And of all the battles fought to advance party interests, the hot- test and liveliest ones are the contests between these extreme divisions, who are in the daily habit of saying very unpleasant and uncomplimentary things the one of the other. Happily, at these choral, but anything but harmonious meetings, there is always present a third party, holding in its hands the balance of power; looking mode- rately at all things, and at all men in a spirit of charitable consideration.
Again, outside the walls of particular colleges, and drawing their numbers from the w^hole body of undergraduates, are other clubs and societies, in which the battles of the parties are fought with more or less energy, according to circumstances.
The Lyceum, the Cutlet, tlie Drag liave their members, who form themselves into special sets upon some unascertained but surely operating prin-
Illcnioirs of l\Ir. GoUg-Jitly. 137
ciplc, like Darwin's theory of natural selection. It was to what was known as the "tea drinking" party of the Cutlet Club that Horatio Clive Cliut- ney — more familiarly termed Tommy Chutney — belonged, whose communication, conveyed by the trusty hand of The OHiggins, had thrown our hero into such a state of nervous and apprehensive expectation in our last chapter. The epithet " tea drinking " may be thought to carry with it its own explanation. Briefly, it arose from the practice or custom of certain refined and rather young lady- like members of the club drinking tea at half-past four o'clock, successively, in each other's rooms ; and, in fine weather, airing themselves afterwards on the King's Parade, with flowers in their coats.
!Mr. Chutney, though a native of India, was looked upon as a true Briton — for he was of Eng- lish extraction, though very dark in colour ; and it was he who, with something of implied contempt for the darker side of human nature, bestowed the sobriquet of " Nigger " upon our friend, Mr. Calipee.
Chutney had acquired considerable notoriety in the Cutlet Club by the peculiarly happy knack he had of bestowing nicknames upon the honourable members of that society, which stuck to them in spite of their efforts to sink them in oblivion. On
o
8 The Cambi'idge Freshman; 07%
this account, Mr. Chutney was looked up to with considerable fear and respect by all those lucky individuals upon whom he had not as yet tried his powers ; while, on the other hand, those gentlemen for Avhom he had acted the part of a second sponsor, as a matter of course, rarely let an opportunity pass of recording the opinion that they "didn't see much in Chutney." Mr. Fitzfoodel, a great rider, he at once dubbed " Jockey ; " Mr. Calipee, as before mentioned, carried about everywhere the addition of " Nigger" — like Sneek's traditional suit of black, it fitted to a T. Upon a mighty athlete, whose name was Johnstone, Mr. Chutney conferred the sobriquet of "Jumper," and Jumper Johnstone he is known as to this day. A Quixotic gentleman, of ancient lineage, in whose high-bridged and de- fiant nose the Indian saw a resemblance to an eagle's beak, he christened "the Bird;" and be- hold, " Call upon the Bird for a song " was a com- mon demand at the meetings of the club, for the youthful Quixote had a tenor voice. More un- pleasant to bear up against were such nicknames as " the Cow," bestowed by this Adam of the Cutlet Club upon a youth who had very large black eyes, a vacant stare, and a most unchristian gait. The vasty deep was laid under contribution by the mother-wit of this bcstower of epithets to furnish
Memoirs of Mr. Golighily. 139
one appropriate to a South country gentleman who had a Somersetshire accent, and one day, after a chib dinner, told the same anecdote about a big ■*' vish " many more times than sobriety would have dictated; so he was called, after his story, the "Big Vish," or " Vish," ever afterwards — though the point of the tale has not yet been caught. The " Female Monkey," too, was answered to and po- litely acknowledged by another Mutton Cutlet — why, Chutney only knows. And little did poor Mr. Samuel think, when his cousin, Mr. George, took him, on that ill-fated Thursday night, to pay his first visit to the Union, and hear Mr. Chutney speak, that the debate to which he had listened with so much interest was so soon to take such a seriously practical turn. Introduced by his cousin, he paid his fees, and inscribed the honoured name of Golightly — preceded by Samuel Adolphus, and followed by St. Mary's Coll. — in the books of the Cambridge Union Society; and speedily found him- self one of a crowd of young men in the large and lofty room ia which the debate on the practice of duelling was proceeding, with unflagging vigour, among both " pros " and " cons."
Mr. Samuel Golightly 's intelligent and expres- sive features sparkled with more than usual anima- tion as he cheered the gentlemen who opposed the
140 The Cambridge Fi^eshman; or,
practice as " unworthy of a great, a progressive, and a civilized nation." While following the lead of others, he used his lungs with melodious effect in shouting "No! no!"' and "Question," when the opponents of the motion affirmed, with vehement eloquence, that the " abolition of this practice in England had left us without that means of satisfac- tion in the last resort which one gentleman had had a right, from time immemorial, of demanding from another. Mr. President — in refuting the wholly untenable arguments of the supporters of this motion, we point defiantly and triumphantly to the example of France ; and will honourable gentlemen affirm that France is not a civilized country]"
" Yes," cried our hero, boldly, joining his own with other manly voices; for, through the mazes of the logic and rhetoric pressed into their service by the Opposition, let it be recorded that Mr. Samuel distinctly saw the light of day. He little thought how soon he would be called upon to sacrifice his own convictions to other people's notions of ho- nour! All debates come to an end in time; and this one, after raging hotly for above an hour and three-quarters, terminated in a division ; the result of which, when announced to the House by the President, appeared to be — ^for the motion,
Memoirs of I\Ir. GoUghtly. 141
seventy-two ; against it, seventy-one. The result
was received with deafening cheers, in which the
voice of Mr. Samuel might have been plainly heard
by those near him. ]Mr. Chutney and his party
left the House, defeated but not disgraced. They
had lost their cause by a very small majority. The
victors laughed, of course — " let him laugh who
wins " — and the losers consoled themselves with
the recollection, pleasant in their memories, of
the good fight they had made ; while the moderate
thinkers were quite content, calling to mind that
line —
" Which country members ahvays cheer at, * Palmam qui meruit ferat!'"
And so the honourable members — both debaters and non-debaters — wended their way, upon their several businesses intent : some to " sap " at Sopho- cles or Tacitus, some to " grind " Optics or the Calculus for the triposes ; more humble men — owning to the possession of that honest thing, the " Poll mind " — to work religiously at those horrible first sLx books of the immortal Euclid, though hardly from pure inclination —
" Renouncing every pleasing page From authors of historic use; Preferring to the letter'd sage The square of the hypolhenuse."
142 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Others, again — and among them our friends Cali- pee, Pokyr, and the members of the Cutlet Club generally — not being of the kind the poet de- scribes when he has in his eye the man —
** Who sacrifices hours of rest
To scan precisely metres Attic; Or agitates his anxious breast
In solving problems mathematic " —
devoted their energies of an evening to the plea- sures of pool, tlie wild excitements of unlimited loo, brag, bezique, or blind hookey ; thinking that reading at night was a bad thing for their consti- tutions. Others, again, moved off to spend social evenings in their own rooms, in the milder dissi- pation of tea and talk — little coteries gathering themselves together to discuss the next great party cowp^ and plan the destruction of their opponents' schemes. And, after all, it is a happy thing that the academical year is divided into three terms, with good long slices of vacation intervening — for in the recess party animosities are forgotten, and men meet again friends at the beginning of every fresh term — or college society might not be the pleasant thing it is.
It has been said of a great living statesman and
Memoirs of Mr. Galightly. 143
orator, that he is in the habit of calming his mind, after an exciting debate in the House of Commons, hy reading for two hours from the Enghsh poets before retiring to his virtuous repose — an innocent and commendable practice. Young Chutney, whose mind was excited by his rhetorical efforts, and by the result of the division on the motion he had that night opposed at the Union, was engaged in the operation of calming himself down again to his normal pressure. Bat he adopted a different method from that mentioned above. He retired to his room ; and was sucking vigorously at a very large pipe, and taking sherry cobbler with it, when The O'Higgins and Mr. Pokyr, accompanied by Mr. Calipee, called upon him.
" I congratulate you, me friend, on your illo- qucnce, your logic, and your facts," said the first of these gentlemen, -when they entered. " It re- minds me strongly of what I have heard before, in another place," continued Mr. O'Higgins, waving his hand grandly. He did not specify the locality ; but may be supposed to have referred either to the Eotunda or his own ancestral halls, at some irrand gathering of the Chiefs. "I was compelled to lave your handsome edifice as soon as ye had done speaking yourself, for I — "
" Had other fish to fry. Eh, captain r' said Pokyr.
144 ^^^^ Cambridge Freshman; or,
"Me boy, you've hit the mark," replied The O'Higgins, with all the happy candour of his nation ; " for, on me word as a gentleman, I lost money in that room last night."
"You've got your losses back, with interest."
"Ah, you're after joking me, Pokyr, you are," said the Captain. " Xo, I like a man that can tark loike me friend; and bed ad, act up to arl he says, on occasion, bedad. And where's the man who'll say that Chutney is not a man of his word"?"
And Mr. Timothy O'Higgins looked round him with an air which plainly said, " I should like to see him."
" Awfully sorry I missed the treat, by Jove,'* said ^Ir. Pokyr.
" Just like my luck — forgot all about it," ob- served the fat Calipee.
" Sit down, and have some liquor of some sort," said their host, rising. " I don't think I did badly — in fact, everybody says I did very well."
" And ye mane every word ye said, and there's a clean breast of the matter," volunteered The O'Higgins.
" Of course I do," said poor little Tommy, un- suspectingly falling into the trap that his friends had laid for him.
" xVnd ye'd foight, I knew you would. I said
Llenio'u's of Mr. GoUghtly. 145
to me friend Pokyr — let Calipee correct me if I'm wrong, and every word is not the truth — I said, in the billiard room, before them all, ' Me friend Chutney is the man to protect his own honour, and wants nobody's help in the matter — that is, if tark goes for anything in this countree.' Didn't W
"And what did we say T' asked Messrs. Pokyr and Calipee, in their turn.
" 'Deed then, and you said the same as mcself," replied The O'Higgins.
"Whereupon the three gentlemen seated them- selves, and made themselves comfortable at once.
" Let me offer you a cigar," said Chutney.
'•' Thank you, I prefer a pipe just now," replied Mr. Pokyr.
''' No — not that one," he added, as Chutney handed him a mammoth meerschaum.
" Oh!" replied Chutney, " it's the jolHest pipe—"
"Yes," said Pokyr; "but, as I look upon all pipes, more or less, as levers for loosening teeth, I should prefer something smaller."
Chutney 's stock of pipes was large. A chibouk was found to suit Mr. Calipee, a meerschaum for jNIr. Pokyr; while The O'Higgins was accommo- dated with a prime Partaga, which he liked so ^•ery much that he was without much trouble pre- vailed upon to put three or four more in his case.
I.
146 The Cambridge FresJwian ; or,
The business of their visit then became apparent. Nothing Yvas clearer than the flict that ]Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly had presumed to fall in love with a lady for whom Mr. Chutney had often avowed the greatest regard. This was at once voted insufferably presumptuous in a Freshman. The same Freshman had likewise made the lady ridiculous by his attentions ; and a great deal more to the like effect.
At last, The O'Higgins put the question of a duel to Chutney point blank.
" Now, me dear boy, tell me, are ye the man I thought you were \ " said he. " He's hardly worth powder and shot, bedad; but honour, Mr. Chut- ney, is honour — at least, it was when I used to sit down to me dinner every day in Kildare-street, ex- cept when I was dining at the Viceragal Lawdge, which was often enough, bedad. Teach him a lesson. Don't kill him, you know; but just wing him, Bedad, it's manny a man I've winged me- self!" said the Captain, "to say niver a word of thim I've left dead on the field by dozens at a toime."
Here the Captain took a pull at his brandy and water.
Both ;Mr. Pokyr and Mr. Calipee felt it a duty to take all he said on this subject seriously.
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 147
" I would not give a halfpenny for a fellow that preaches what he does not practise — by Jove, I wouldn't," said Mr. Pokyr.
And the result of the visit was, that the three guests persuaded their host — who was an excitable and easily managed youth — to send that note to our hero of which Mr. Timothy Fitzgerald O'Hig- gins was the bearer.
e^
L 2-
148 The Cambridge F7'esJmian : or.
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH SOME SCENES FROM '"'tHE TtlVALS" ARE EXACTED OFF THE STAGE.
'LL just lave ye to answer it as soon as % ye conveniently can," and an intimation that Mr. Chutney would be at home all the morning, were, as our readers will recollect, the words of adieu with which The OTIiiri'ins parted from Mr. Samuel Adolphus Golightly' on the eventful morning when he placed the " mes- sage" of his injured friend in our hero's astonished hand.
Mr. Samuel's amazement at first, when the blus- tering descendant, of the Kings of Erin's green isle burst in upo 1 him and liis mutton chop, had been very great. It became still greater when T'hc O'EIiggins announced his stylo and title, and placed the note of a gentleman to whom he was a stranger in his hand. It culminated with The O'll.'s abrupt and most unexpected departure.
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 149
"Good gr-r-acious! what can all this be about ■?" exclaimed our hero, as he rushed to his window, and watched the retreating figure of Mr. O'Hig- gins pacing, with martial stride, across the quad.
" Wh-wh-what does it all mean, I wonderl"
But he did not long give himself up to ignorant wondering.
It has been said, by many wise and observing writers, that if a man receives a letter, among a number of letters, which he well knows to be an unpleasant letter, he opens all his other packets first, and makes himself master of their contents. Then he chips his q^^, and swallows a mouthful of toast or of tea, eyeing all the while the unpleasant epistle, and at last reluctantly opens that also.
We claim for our hero the merit of a different course of conduct ; at all events, in the present in- stance, he neglected the chop noAV cooling in its own fat on his plate — he did not even stop to sip his tea ; but the bearer of the missive was no sooner out of sight than he broke the seal, and satisfied himself as to the nature of its contents. He read, with rapidly varying expressions of feature, thus: —
"loi, King's Parade, Friday.
« Sir — As you have been pleased to make both yourself — which is of the slightest possible conse-
150 The Cambriage Freshman ; or,
quence — and Miss Bellair — whicli is of importance — ridiculous, by presuming to think yourself a pre- tender to her good opinion, and as I am further ad- vised you have made certain remarks concerning me of a disparaging character, though you are a Fresh- man, I suppose you know well enough the satisfac- tion one gentleman demands of another under such •circumstances as those above stated. Any gentle- man you may appoint to arrange preliminaries will jQnd me, and the friend who carries this message, in readiness to receive him at any time that is con- venient to you. — Yours indignantly,
" Horatio Clive Chutxey.
"ToS. A. Golightly, Esq."
It instantly struck Mr. Golightly, with very un- pleasant force, that the " satisfaction one gentle- man demands of another" meant fiq-htinsr, either with swords, pistols, or larger weapons, as might l)e agreed upon ; and that the " preliminaries " mentioned by Mr. Chutney were the prepara- tions necessary for the hostile meeting. If these were among the manners and customs of a University, Mr. Golightly, who was pre-eminently a man of peace — for though his grandfather had borne arms, it was only in the miUtia — began to Tvish he had never come there. lie recollected, on
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 151
the spur of tlie moment, that ho had never drawn a sword from its sheath, or snapped a pistol in his life ; for his late grandfather's weapons were kept hanging up at the Hall, where they were looked up to with due veneration and respect. Here was a pretty predicament to be placed in ! And what aggravated the matter, our hero not unnaturally felt that he was not in the least at fault, being the most amiable of mortals, and ready, aye ready, at the call of duty, to resign all claim to the hand of Miss Bellair, or any other young lady to whom any other gentleman reasonably considered that he had a prior right. Glancing again at jNIr. Chutney's letter, he noticed the day of the week at its head. "Friday" stared him ominously in the face.
" Y-yesterday was Thursday, and — and it — it is Friday," he said to himself; and his family pre- possession against that ill-fated day recurred to his memory with a vividness increased by present cir- cumstances.
" I'll — I'll go and talk to George about it, and show him the letter," continued our hero, still talk- ing to himself
Snatching up his cap, he put it on his head, and hurried down the stairs ; but his cousin George's door was "sported" very determinedly against
152 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
assault, and his knocks and gentle kicks remained unanswered.
He stood in the doorway looking on the quad, when ]Mrs. Cribb came up, with a can in one hand and a pail in the other. Our hero was first made aware of her presence by hearing her voice —
" Beg parden, sir," said his bedmaker, " but if the tooters should see you in your dressin' crownd, a-walkin' about of a mornin', they might objeck, which has been the case before."
" Oh!" said our hero, for the first time thinking of his dress — such was his excitement of mind on the present occasion, though ordinarily the most particular of men. '* I have — that is, I want to see my cousin."
" Meaning ]Mr. Golightly, my staircase ground floor," said Mrs. Cribb. " He's been gone out half an hour ago. I seed him myself, when I was a-pumpin' a can of water Sneek ought to have pumped an hour and a half before, a-goin' across the quad in his boots and ridin' whip, so I think p'r'aps he's gone for a ride or sometliing, sir."
This was bad news, indeed ; and Mr. Samuel's face fell accordingly. Just as George could have been of immense service to him, to find him gone — perhaps for the day ! What was he to do \ " Be cool " — that was clear, but not easy. Then, again,
Memoirs of Mr. Go lightly. 153
the honour of the family might or might not be at stake, according to the way in which you regarded duelHng. But his aunt Dorothea had cautioned him to " remember that he was a Gohghtly ; " and if the honour of the family were lost through him, what would his aunt say ? Write to Oakingham- cum-Pokeington 1 But his mamma would die of anxiety and alarm ; and he never could trust his father to keep the aifair a secret, for he knew all the family would insist on reading the letter, or go into instant hysterics if they did not. He was in a dilemma — a peculiar dilemma, of a circular sort, with horns all round. Two would have been no- thing to deal with. Turning these things over in his mind, he retraced his steps to his own rooms.
" You've gone and let this nice chop get cold, sir. Shall I put it before the fire for a few mi- nutes \ It would soon get hot again, wath a plate over it."
But her master had not the slightest appetite for chops, hot or cold ; and told INIrs. Cribb that such was the case.
" Dear me, now," said that worthy woman, in a tone of the deepest concern, as she cleared away his breakfast things, and gleefully put the chop into her basket, with the breads and butters and other perquisites it contained.
154 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
Mr. Golightly retired into the solitude of the little room dignified by the name of study, and there thought. He had not been so engaged more than a few minutes, ^Yhen he thought he heard a low and hesitating single knock at the door of his keeping-room. He advanced as far as his study door to satisfy himself of the truth of his surmise. The knock was repeated in the same timid fashion. He walked towards the door, and happening at the same time, as he passed his windows, to cast his eyes across the quad, he saw about half a dozen seedy individuals, of different ages and degrees of shabbiness, coming towards the block of buildings in which he resided. It struck him as being an unusual phenomenon ; but what with being near- sighted and much preoccupied in mind with the thought of ]Mr. Chutney's letter, Mr. Golightly failed to observe that each of these persons carried in his hands a hat, and in some cases an umbrella. By this time, the knock at his door was repeated in a louder and more determined tone, and he opened the door to an individual — who held in one hand the bill describing, in most effective type, the loss of a hat and umbrella sustained by a gentleman of St. INIary's College, and in the otlicr hand a battered beaver and a i-AXicxc^ imraj)lme.
Placing the bill in our hero's hand, the bearer
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. 155
took off his own liat, and, giving his curling fore- lock a respectful pull, said —
" Mister G'lighty — d'rccted here by the porter at the gate — said as you was the gen'clman as had lost a Nat and a Numbereller. Beggin' pardon, sir, is these 'um? They was found — upon my Dick, they was — a floatin' down the river agen Maudlin" (iSIagdalen) "Bridge. Out in the middle they was, upon my Dick ; and great trouble I had a-reskyin' of 'um."
]Mr. Golightly at once admitted that he was the gentleman who had lost a hat and an umbrella, and the bill produced referred to his property ; but he indignantly repudiated any connection wdth the articles produced. They were both in the last stage of decay, and must have been thrown into the river as the best means of getting rid of them ; but as they were quite dry now, and showed no sign of any recent immersion, our hero slightly doubted the assertion of the finder, and felt disin- clined even to believe him on " his Dick " — which was probably his way of invoking Saint Kichard in short, an oath he made use of with great solemnity of manner several times over.
This Bargee — as ]Mr. Pokyr afterwards styled him — had hardly got to the end of his narrative of the rescue from a watery grave of the hat and um-
156 The Cambridge Freshman; or,
brella he carried, ■svheii several other Bargees made their appearance, and urged their rival claims to credence ; addressing Mr. Golightly -with great re- spect, and each other with a considerable degree of contempt, and much more appropriate imagery in the way of language.
" X-no, no, no — none of them are mine," ex- claimed INIr. Golightly, whose room was, by this time, filled with the Bargees, and who did not know how in the world to get rid of them.
" 'Xcuse me, sir, but this un is yourn, and no mistake about it," cried one, holding up for our hero's inspection an old drab wide-awake.
" No, I never had such a one."
" Let the gen'elman alone. He knows his own — in course he do. This un's his ; my brother Billy seed it drop off his head."
And so each Bargee pressed his claims upon ^Ir. Golightly, with much volubility. At last, a man in a horsey suit of clothes and a bird's-eye neckerchief, who seemed to have come in with the rest "on spec," as he apparently had not found the identical hat Mr. Samuel had lost, remarked — •
" Well, if none of these hats aint the gen- tleman's, what I say is, What is he going to stand?"
*' That's right, Spot," said one.
Ulaiioirs of Mr. Golightly. 157
" Well done, Glanders! " said another. *'Go it — that's the ticket."
" 'It 'im agcn ! "
" Bravvo ! " from a 2:rcat many.
Encouraged by these remarks, Spot Glanders, their spokesman, proceeded —
" You see, sir, you are a gentleman, and these here men have taken a great deal of trouble to re- store your property to you ; and if the mistake is tlicirs, it's partly yours as well, for there isn't no description of the hat and the umbrella on the bills."
" Hear, hear ! " from all the Bargees.
" And time is time, and money too, to us work- ing men here."
'•' So it is, Spot."
A happy thought struck Mr. Golightly. lie had some silver in his pocket.
lie had proceeded to the distribution of several shillings as a recompense for the trouble the Bargees had taken on his account, when Mr. Sneek suddenly appeared on the scene. Placing himself in his favourite attitude in tlie doorway, and addressing the assembled roughs, the gyp said, "vvith a smile of irony —
" And what are you all here for? Come, clear out."
15S The Cambridge Freshman; or^
In Tain Spot Glanders remonstrated; in vain the Bargees protested or murmured at the hard- ness of their fate.
*' Clear out, or I'll have you all discommonsed," said Sneek.
Slowly and unwillingly, those who had not been favoured with the shillings left the room ; com- forting themselves, however, with the reflection, "We've got enough for a gallon or two o' beer among us."
"They're imposin' upon you, sir," said Sneek, as soon as they were gone. "I do hate imposition of any sort, and often I've said so to Cribb, w^hen I've seed her or anybody else a-takin' advantage behind my back."
"They brought what they said were my hats and umbrellas," said our hero, laughing, and for- getting his greater cause of disquiet in the recol- lection of the Bargee encounter.
" Your 'At and UmbercUer," reiterated the gyp, with a satirical sneer — "let them as sent 'em to you give 'em something for comin.' That's what I say."
Here Mr. Sneek gave a flip or two with his duster to the table legs, with an air of conscious rectitude very impressive to witness.
Our hero was again rapt in thought — the duel
j\Icnioirs of j\Ir. Golightly. 159
in prospective taking up the whole of his attention. He wanted a confidant very badly; and Sneek was certainly a man of sense, and versed in the cus- toms of University life.
He was within an ace of communicating some slight hint of his trouble to honest John Sneek, when Mr. Pokyr called to pay him a visit, and so relieved him of the necessity of unburdening him- self to his gyp.
"Good morning, Golightly," said Mr. Pokyr, with a sprightly but innocent air. "I have just looked up your cousin, but I find his door is sported. So I suppose he's out."
" George is out, I believe," responded our hero. " Mrs. Cribb told me she saw him go across the quad an hour ago."
"■ Early bird. After the little grubs, no doubt. Had anybody here this morning, my dear boy? Looking at you with the philosophical eye of an old hand, I should say your mental equani- mity is slightly disturbed. Whose pills do you take?"
" I do not often require medicine, thank you," said our hero, with refreshing innocence, " When we do, we have antibilious pills from Keele's, at Fuddlcton. I have had a number of people here this morning — "
i6o The Ca7nbrid(re Freshman; or.
" Yerse," said Mr. Sncck, " we har had them, as
you s
Before he had finished his sentence, the gyp ob- served that Mr. Pokyr was pointing imperatively in the direction of the door ; and there was also a dangling, swaying motion of his right foot ac- companying it which was not lost upon Sneek, who rapidly made his exit. "When he had closed the door behind him, and was out of danger — pointing back with his left thumb over his shoul- der, and at the same time winking his eye — he said to himself —
"You arc a-havin' him a rum un. All round the 'cop, and no mistake."
"What say, John Sneek'? " said Mrs. Cribb, who was in the gyp-room, just packing up her basket for departure.
"What do I say, Betsy Cribb? I say, get out o' the way," was the polite rejoinder. "What 'avc we got there]"
And Sneek proceeded carefully to overhaul Mrs. Cribb's basket, to assure himself that she had got nothing in it that properly belonged to him — conduct the bedmaker resented very indignantly indeed.
"Really, what a funny thing! Kind of them, thousrh, was it nof?" Mr. Pokvr said to Mr. Go-
Memoirs of Mr. Golightly. i6i
lightly, when he heard of the visit our hero had received from the Bargees.
" I have thought since, do you knoAv, that they must have known that the hats and umbrellas were not mine," replied Mr. Golightly.
" Not a bit of it, my dear boy, I assure you. All of them honest, poor fellows; and, after all, the working classes are very ignorant, you know. How were they to tell wliat style of hat you wore on a weekday?"
"We for-forgot to describe them."
"Ah, we did. But it was too bad of you to let Sneck turn them all out just as you wTrc 'liberally rewarding' them."
"AVas if? Do you think it was?" said our hero, vacantly — not in the least knowing what his queries meant. " Pokyr," he said, abruptly, " read that." And he placed the missive The O'Higgins had brought him an hour before in his friend's hand. " Head that letter. I don't know what in the world to do."
Mr. Pokyr stood with one foot on tlie window seat, and carefully read the letter.
"There's no doubt about it," he said, shaking his head, ominously. "You sec. Chutney is a very excitable fellow."
"Am I — am I ohlujed to accept it?" ad^ed Mr
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1 62 The Cambridge Fi'eshman; or,
Samuel, nervously, placing his hands behind his back, and staring at his friend.
"Ton my honour, I think you are. There seems no other way out of it. Ugly affair — pre- cngagement between Miss Bellair and Chutney, seemingly. But 'take a bull by the horns,' you know/' he added, cheerfully.
" But — but — but," said our hero, " I don't want to take a bull by the horns."
"All over by this tune to-morrow. Be a man. I'll telegraph result to our friends at the Rectory. Think all the better of you for behaving like a man of spirit, whatever may happen."
"Aunt Dorothea would," said Mr. Samuel, thinking aloud. " But suppose — "
Mr. Pokyr closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Do suppose a case — only suppose it, you know — suppose I did not exactly wish to fight — "
" The only way out of it now, I fear."
" Would not a sort — a sort of apol — "
"Apology] Oh, Chutney is the last man in the world to take any apology. The fact is, he loves a fight — swords or pistols,"
" The bloodthirsty little wretch," tliought ]^.Ir. Samuel.
" His speccli at the Union was in favour of duels, was it nof?" asked Mr. Pokvr. " I was not there."
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J
" It was," said our hero, with a deep-drawn sigh of despair.
" Screw your courage up to the shooting point. It's nothing, after all. Make your will first, and then you will have nothing on your mind.''
" But I thought duelling was quite out of date. I'm sure I've heard so."
" Not here. Universities are old-fashioned places. Old manners hang about for ages."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Samuel, in. great trepidation, "what would my Fa sayl"
"Your Fa would say, Fight. He would not see the family honour in the dust."
" But — but I never fired a pistol off in my life," urged Mr. Golightly, faintly.
" Never mind that — easiest thing in the world, I assure you," said Mr. Pokyr, stretching out his hand and imitating the action. " You can stand close together, you know."
" I should like to be some distance off. I do not wish to shoot Chutney."
"And he does not wish to shoot you, my dear fellow. Merely a matter of form, which must be gone through, or your honour is gone. You could not live here, and see yourself pointed at as the man who dared not figlit to rescue his own honour! Now, could your'
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164 The Cambridge FresJunan; or,
"But suppose anything happened^'
" Fire in the air — thus," said Pokyr, aiming ■with his finger at the ceiling. " Then you can't hurt Chutney, you know."
"I wish George had not gone out," said Mr. Samuel
" Yes, it is a pity. He would have told you as I do. You must accept the challenge."
In the end, Mr. Golightly commissioned Mr. Pokyr to carry his reply to the other side ; and willingly left all preliminary arrangements in his hands.
During the morning, The O'Higgins was busily engaged in keeping up the courage of INIr. Chut- ney— not an easy task ; and his mind was consider- ably relieved when Pokjr arrived with the answer of our hero, accepting the gage that had been thrown down.
Those gentlemen at once sat down to arrange between them the place, the time, and the weapons. This being done to their satisfaction, they strolled into the cigar shop of the teterrima causa belli — the Brown-street "\'cnus, otherwise Miss Emily Bellair. Giving Mrs. Bellair a nod as they walked through the shop, they passed into the little back parlour, which was styled, on the half-glass