to promote a Pyramus-and-Thisbe-like intimacy between the thumb of one gentleman, and the eye of his antagonist. On the morning following the day already mentioned as the date of our Freshman's arrival in Oxford, two figures were seated in the apartment which we have just described. The principal one was that of a young man, whose jolly red face, rising out of a bottle-green dressing-gown, forcibly reminded one of a poppy which had found its way by mistake into a parsley-bed. His features proclaimed him to be about four-and-twenty; but the Jockey Club rule of "weight for years" seemed in his case to have been utterly disregarded-in fact, it appeared rather as if his age and size had been running a race, in which the latter had considerably outstripped the former. The bodily occupation of this individual, who was no other than Mr. John Raffleton himself, was the reclining in an easychair, accompanied by an attempt to make the least of his largely developed legs by keeping them in a crossed position. Mentally, he was engaged in the abstruse operation of following, book in hand, in the original Greek, a translation of Herodotus which his companion, a slim youth, with a barber's apron and a brown coat, which by the misfit had evidently originally belonged to his present patron and auditor, was slowly dealing out to him, sentence by sentence. As a counterbalance to this exercise of the intellect, there stood, at an easy distance from each of the parties thus engaged, a half-empty porter bottle, with its accompanying tumbler; which Raffleton had pressed into the service of the classics, much on the same principle that doctors wrap pills up in jam before they give them to children-namely, to make them go down as easily as possible. This present attention to external comforts arose from a former experience of the unpleasantness of reading without them; an unpleasantness rendered doubly bitter by the fact, that the result had been a total failure, in consequence of a somewhat liberal translation of "Impositique rogis juvenes ante ora parentum," into "And the boys were imposed upon by rogues in the very teeth of their parents." In order to prevent the recurrence of a similar misfortune, he had been staying up during the vacation to avail himself of the assistance of the barber's boy in reading to him, with a view of doing better at the ensuing examination. "Yes; I think that will do very well for to-day, Willett," said he, closing his book, and motioning to his companion to do the same. "Take some porter, Willett. Who did you say the kings of Cyrene were ?" What with the porter, and what with knowing as much of the classics as an automaton of chess, Willett did not seem to remember much about the matter. He referred to the book again, however, and informed his interrogator that there were four rejoicing in the name of Battus, and four in that of Arcesilaus. "Ah, that's all very well-but I always forget, Willett," rejoined Raffleton. "How am I to remember that, Willett? Let me see-Ah-that may do-Four Bats, and four Asses, in layers. Talk of Herodotus! Natural history I call that. Put the gloves on, Willett." Willett accordingly put the boxing gloves on with an air of the meekest resignation, being fully aware of the unpleasant part he was about to play in the domestic tragedy to which this was the prologue; as well he might be having been knocked down regularly every day of the Easter vacation, by way of keeping his patron in exercise. On the present occasion, the porter had, as has been observed, rather got into his head; and being furthermore incensed at the unusually uncivil treatment of his features, he so far forgot himself, after standing up to be made a mummy of for about half-an-hour, as actually to venture upon putting in a gentle blow in return; a measure which instantly procured for him his daily knock-down, and a reprimand from Raffleton for letting his nose bleed over the carpet. "What an infernal nose that is of yours, Willett; always bleeding!-there-never mind-put it in the bill with the Eau de Cologne-and the imposition for the Proctor-and the wig, and the rest of it, Willett. Ah! there-it's stopped now; I knew it would," continued he, taking off his neckcloth. "Now shave me, Willett." Willett forthwith proceeded to obey, looking all the while as if he would have cut his tormentor's throat without hesitation, if he had not had some doubt as to whether, in case of his dying intestate, bills for boxing and reading to him in his lifetime would be considered as lawful claims in the Vice-Chancellor's Court. He accordingly completed the operation with only a single remembrancer in the way of a slight chin-gash, and had just been dismissed, when Raffleton was disturbed at his toilet by a gentle tap at the door. - One half-muttered anathema, neither pious nor polite, on the intruder one sigh for the bedroom which communicated with his old college apartment, and formed a retreat in the hour of peril—and Raffleton had gathered up the flowing folds of the aforesaid green dressing-gown, and was in the act of flying to post himself behind the door in case of its being opened,-when he was arrested midway by a second tap, and the entrance of a young gentleman in a blue frock-coat, and a particularly new and glossy pair of black evening trousers. There was a letter in his hand-it looked suspicious, to say the least of it. Raffleton gazed on him with fear and trembling. "Is Mr. Raffleton at home, sir ?" inquired the intruder, in a deferential tone, and almost an equal state of alarm with the individual whose privacy he had invaded. "No, sir, I-he is not at home, sir,-he is gone to Stow, sir, -and his spoons are locked up-and his purse is gone with him, sir,-and if you're come to dun him, you'd better go after him, sir, or, if you object to the coach fare, I, as his particular friend, shall be happy to kick you there, sir." "Sir," said the Freshman, for he it was, getting very red in the face; "I have brought this letter for Mr. Raffleton, and 66 99 Anything to pay?" interrupted Raffleton, coolly scrutinizing the letter, and beginning to think it might not be a bill after all. "Anything to pay, young man ?" "No, sir, there is not anything to pay. This is most extraordinary conduct, sir,I have never been used to this sort of thing at home, and I shan't stand it here. Pray, sir, whom do you take me for ?" said the Freshman fairly exasperated. "You are sure of that, young man ?" said Raffleton, without manifesting the slightest attention to this last question; are quite sure there is nothing to pay?" 66 you No, sir," said Eden; "I have told you once for all there is not, sir. It did not come by the post. I brought it." ton. "No bill, or any nasty thing of that sort ?" persisted Raffle "No, sir-it is a letter, sir — a private letter. Can you tell me where to find Mr. Raffleton, or not, sir?” "Then, sir," rejoined his tormentor, in the most deliberate and impressive tone of voice; "then in that case, sir, I think I may venture to be Mr. Raffleton. I think, sir," continued he, taking the letter between his forefinger and thumb, and turning it over for more minute inspection,-"I think, sir, the appearance of this letter fully justifies me in being Mr. Raffleton. Sir," added he, having torn open the document in question, and glanced hastily at its contents, "I find I have been mistaken in your character; circumstances, sir- circumstances must excuse me. Sir, I am the victim of an unnatural persecution-the hand-handwriting, I should say, of every tradesman in Oxford is against me- they haunt my sleep- they wear the paint off my door with knocking- -they disturb my readingthey ruin me in postage-they upset my nervous system. Sir, 1 took you for one of them. Forgive me. Take some porter, sir." Eden pleaded want of habit as an excuse for not drinking so early in the morning- an excuse, by the by, which would have been equally founded upon fact as applied to his drinking at any time of the day whatever; and Raffleton, having made up for his friend's defalcation by helping himself, resumed. "I find, sir, by this letter, that you are an acquaintance of my friend, Mrs. Myrtleby, and that you are to be an acquaintance of mine. Very good. Pleasant for both, that as the boy said when he tied the owl on the duck's back. I enjoy the prospect amazingly." Had Eden been aware that the prospect which his new friend contemplated enjoying was nothing more or less than sending him home drunk in a wheelbarrow on as many evenings as he could spare out of the week, the problem. which he was at present engaged in working, as to whether the pleasure of the proposed intimacy would be mutual, would have required no further solution. "Nice woman, Mrs. Myrtleby," continued Raffleton,—“ motherly, and all that nursed me in my infancy-till I got too big." Here Raffleton tried to look pathetic, and thanks to a long practice, with a view to attract the commiseration of the examiners in the schools, succeeded. He then tossed the letter across the table for Eden's perusal, with a remark that his correspondent seemed to have some idea of taking the change out of him now, for her before-mentioned delicate little attentions vouchsafed in his infancy. The document ran as follows: - "Marine Parade, Dover, March, 183—. "My dear Mr. Raffleton, I write this to oblige an old friend and schoolfellow, Mrs. Eden, with whom I have resumed my intimacy, since my stay here for sea-bathing for the boys. Her son is going up to reside at Trinity College; any little attention to him, which will not interfere with your studies, will be a charity. By the by, you will be glad to hear that I have determined to send the two eldest boys, Henry Brougham, and Arthur Wellington, (that was poor Mr. M.'s doing, to stand well with both parties,) to Oriel. Will you be kind enough to enter them on the College books? Also inquire if they could by any means be allowed to live in one room, (this on account of expense, entre nous; but before them I always talk of brotherly affection;) they always slept double at school. And if you could send an old cap and gown as a pattern, I think they could be made cheaper at home. Believe me, my dear young friend, yours everlastingly, "ELEONORA RUFFIN MYRTLEBY. "P.S. 1. If you stumble on a collar of Oxford brawn cheap, and can send it free of expense, Henry Brougham is very fond of it. "P.S. 2. Henry Brougham, and Arthur Wellington, have both had the measles, you may tell the Provost." Having duly perused this curious compound of friendly interest and maternal solicitude, Eden observed that he thought he must go and pay his respects to the College tutors, and rose for that purpose. "Ah! very right," said Raffleton; "I remember I did all that sort of thing in my first term. And then, if you'll sup with me at nine-I've a small party I'll introduce you to a capital fellow of your own college, and he'll put you in the way of everything. And you'll excuse what I am going to saybut what have you done with your cap and gown?" Eden replied that he had not yet procured those articles, having been equipped for chapel that morning in an old cap and gown belonging to his little scout. "Well," said Raffleton, taking hold of his coat collar, and surveying his costume from head to foot; "now let me give you a little piece of advice. Go and get a cap and gown instantly, and never stir out without them, till you've worn out that country-built coat and trousers; for, however convenient it may be to be taken by the Proctor for a townsman, yet it isn't so pleasant to be taken for a dun by an undergraduate, as I was very near showing you when you came in. Good b'ye—we shall meet again at supper-as Wombwell used to say to the wild beasts an hour before feeding time and to-morrow I'll take you to Embling's, where you can order some real trousers." THOUGHTS ON PATRONS, PUFFS, AND IN AN EPISTLE FROM T. M. To S. R. WHAT, thou, my friend! a man of rhymes, No, no,-those times are past away, His "little bark may sail attendant" Under some lordly skipper's steerage; Cuts both Star Chamber and the Peerage. Patrons, indeed! when scarce a sail |