We’ve potions and pills,Curing all ills,Dispensed by the great Nokop,
We’ve potions and pills,Curing all ills,Dispensed by the great Nokop,
We’ve potions and pills,
Curing all ills,
Dispensed by the great Nokop,
was taken up by everyone regardless of time and tune. We were particularly pleased with a gentleman in the second row who conducted the song with much greater success than the salaried official before the footlights. After the third encore, several entire strangers in the second row rose and shook his hand, while a person in a brown bowler hat and knicker-bockers appeared in the wings and made frantic signals to refuse further demands. Von Graussman, who seemed to be feeling the heat in the dress circle, here endeavoured to address the audience to the exclusion of King Caskowiski, who had just made an imposing entrance, and the following dialogue ensued:—
K.C. (in a dignified manner), ‘Welcome my dusky subjects.’V.G. (suddenly struck by K.C.’s state robes), ‘You vas a Broctor.’K.C. (continues), ‘Let our wives attend us to the palace.’V.G. (apparently reassured on the former subject), ‘My vriends he vas a Mormon.’
K.C. (in a dignified manner), ‘Welcome my dusky subjects.’
V.G. (suddenly struck by K.C.’s state robes), ‘You vas a Broctor.’
K.C. (continues), ‘Let our wives attend us to the palace.’
V.G. (apparently reassured on the former subject), ‘My vriends he vas a Mormon.’
At this point a bulky and uniformed official intervened and von Graussman’s companion, a spectacled scholar of Cecil’s, was hustled out of the theatre without a chance of explanation, just as Sotite came forward to sing his famous song. The chorus of this, beginning:
‘It’s tails I win and heads you lose,’
‘It’s tails I win and heads you lose,’
‘It’s tails I win and heads you lose,’
is peculiarly tricky, and even the energetic sportsman in front was unable to keep the field altogether, for the orchestra finished first by a short bar, followed by Sotite and the Barabbas party, the rest of us being left at the post. Verimisti indeed, continued to sing the refrain through the whole of the next verse.
The landing and entrance of the English party created immense enthusiasm, though I failed to see why the Hon. Mrs. Charteris should come ashore in a skirt considerably above her knees, and Angus MacPhee’s topper and frock-coat seemed peculiarly out of place on a Cannibal Island. After the inevitable chorus, there followed the ‘Three Wives’ song, which received seven encores, and then Freddy, who, we understand had seen the piece before, declared that there was nothing of interest to follow, and drove us outside, ‘being,’ as heremarked, ‘Called to the Bar.’ Before we could regain our seats the curtain had fallen on the first act, and finding it impossible to remain in the crowded saloon, we paraded the street for ten minutes. When we got in again we found the second act in full swing, Ginsling and a chorus of female cabin-boys in a cake-walk receiving repeated encores, after which the self-appointed conductor went out to drown the microbes, returning just in time for Mrs. Mopper’s song on the perils of the ocean. The last verse of this was entirely lost through the attempted entrance of four members of the Snorters’ Club from Tydvil College, who were eventually ejected—after having embroiled most of the audience near the door—by four uniformed officials, assisted by the box-office clerk and two programme boys. But we afterwards discovered that Ironsides, the heavy-weight champion, left a limb of the law on the door mat, while a programme boy who had clung to him was deposited on a hay-cart in the yard of the Hyde. The sympathies of the audience were all with the Snorters, and after a brief though stirring speech from Reggie on the rights of Englishmen, the Barabbas men behind rose en masse and demanded somebody’s blood; but when the popular manager explained that the Lessees had gone home in a hansom they were appeased and resumed their seats for Queenie Hareham’s favourite song ‘They all of them have tried it on with me.’ After this the plot, in the fashion of musical comedies, was recklessly abandoned, and Jack Warmleigh did a Coon dance withLady Betty Backstays. But the Hon. Alan Charteris, R.N., who attempted to sing a love song totally unconnected with the piece, was greeted with loud shouts of ‘Go off’; and then ensued a general mystification of the audience by dressing every character as some one else, including Mrs. Charteris’ appearance as the Cannibal Girl, which finished the first scene and gave another interval for lip-salve. Our little refreshment cost us nothing this time, as a complete stranger from the dress circle, who described himself in quavering tones as the ‘Great Mogul,’ absolutely insisted upon providing us all with lotion, though Freddy’s back teeth were already under water. Owing to a free fight which took place in the ladies’ cloak-room between de Beresford and a most indigestible looking person from Llewellyn’s, whose face he said annoyed him, we did not regain our seats until the next act was well under weigh. A gentleman from Barabbas’, after having kissed my hand, insisted upon my sitting on his knee, and addressed me fondly as ‘The Queen of the May.’ Owing to this and a tired feeling which came over me about this time, I saw nothing for quite ten minutes. When I next looked at the stage I found that the theatricals at Berehampton House were going strong, and the tableau representing Eileen Mervyn as Venus with King Caskowiski as Apollo balancing an apple on his head, was hailed with rapturous applause. The next tableau showed a lady wrapped in little else but mystery pointing to the sky, but before I had time to enquire what she was supposed to be, the gentlemanon whose knee I was sitting suddenly shifted his position and I fell rather heavily to the floor. During the tableaux a fearful din prevented any songs reaching us, while the party from Barabbas’ appeared to be having a concert to themselves. At last the curtain fell amid cries of ‘Speech’ from all sides, and something in dress clothes with an enormous paste stud and a Roman nose advanced in front of the members of the Company and their respective bouquets. His lips appeared to be moving, but as there was no abatement of noise the curtain soon fell for the last time and we felt our way out while two King’s men strove heroically to remove the big bassoon.
We enjoyed a most successful supper with our lady friends, at which Verimisti failed to put in an appearance. On our way home we danced the Lancers at Carfax, and after vainly demanding a speech from the Principal of Barabbas’, whose house looks onto the High, retired to bed.
Reggie said the departure of the Company on the following morning reminded him of a Roman General’s triumph, and proved a positive harvest time for the cabbies. The smallest computation put the number of undergraduates present at a hundred and twenty, but the Proctor on his arrival only succeeded in entrapping eleven, of whom three had leave to go to town and one had come to meet his uncle.
The state of Accrington’s clothes, after spending half-an-hour in the lamp-room, was the cause of much profanity,while Squiff, who had climbed into a coal-truck, proved quite unrecognisable. But the adventures of the immaculate de Beresford put these misfortunes quite into the shade, for he was carried off in a horse-box to Stow-on-the-Wold, and only returned about 10 p.m. minus his watch-chain and cigarette-case, which he left at that remote spot as security for his dinner and return ticket.
However, even the solemn Pilot admitted that it was a very good week.
The credit of the idea must be given to Reggie; he suggested it at a time when we were all in low water and when his birthday gifts from loving uncles and aunts had just poured into Reggie’s receptive hands, so no mercenary motives can be imputed to him. If the idea did not turn out the brilliant success we anticipated, that was due to faults in the system, and not in the promoters.
We were all in Reggie’s rooms one day, forming a small committee of Ways and Means, with, as Squiff said, plenty of ways and no means, when Reggie suddenly remarked, ‘Why shouldn’t we have a fund?’
The Pilot, who conceals a tendency to make obvious and painful puns behind a solemn demeanour, had just begun, ‘The fundamental principle—,’ when Reggie remarked sadly, ‘I am serious.’
When the Pilot had been suppressed with two cushions and a syphon; Squiff inquired, ‘A fund, what for?’
‘For mutual help,’ answered Reggie.
‘Oh! a sort of coal-and-clothing-mothers’-meeting-keep-the-baby-warm kind of article,’ put in Freddy.
‘Not at all,’ said Reggie, ‘it will be something like this. I propose that each member—’
‘Who are the members to be?’ interrupted Squiff.
‘That,’ replied Reggie with an airy wave of the hand, ‘we can settle later. Each member shall contribute say five or eight pounds a term, which will be handed to the Treasurer and kept by him—’
‘If Squiff is made Treasurer the money will certainly be kept by him,’ interjected the Pilot.
After I had picked up the china ornament and the table-leg which were broken in the subsequent scuffle, Reggie continued, ‘The money will be kept by the Treasurer, who will not be a paid official, and used in time of stress by the members. For instance, supposing a summons has to be paid, or a railway-fare to town is required, the member needing the money will go to the Treasurer, and after pledging his word that the circumstances are urgent shall withdraw just as much as is needed and no more. There will also be special rules about repayment.’
‘They will be needed,’ I remarked; ‘and we must also have “urgent circumstances” clearly defined, as I foresee trouble on that score.’
‘Well,’ said Squiff, ‘if every one is agreed, that some such Society is needed, let us draw up the rules at once. If an undertaking like this is left under discussion after the first week of term the subscriptions will have to be lowered to five shillings, and that won’t be much use.’
‘Rule 1,’ said Reggie, tapping the table with a paper-knife, ‘That this Society be known as the “Cecil College Mutual Help Society.”’
Rule 2, ‘That the terminal subscription be five pounds with no entrance-fee, but that the membership be strictly limited.’
‘I think—’ began the Pilot.
‘Wait a moment till I have read out what I’ve written down and then we can discuss it,’ said Reggie.
Rule 3, ‘That all repayments of amounts drawn out over and above a member’s own subscription be made within eight weeks.’
Rule 4, ‘That every member before drawing out money must pledge his word that the circumstances are urgent. Such urgent circumstances must be taken to mean the entire lack of money on the borrower’s part, and the immediate necessity for a loan. Urgent circumstances do not include the need of theatre tickets, bouquets, suppers, payments of accounts before a solicitor’s letter has been received, or payment to any tailor or photographer.’
Rule 5, ‘That no money be borrowed during the first two weeks of term, and that no member who has failed to make repayment within eight weeks may avail himself of the privileges of membership until such repayment be made.’
Rule 6, ‘That in the event of all funds being exhausted before the last week of term, the Treasurer—who shall be elected terminally—shall call a meeting to announce the fact.’
Rule 7, ‘That any money left over—’
‘We can dispense with that rule,’ remarked Squiff, ‘there never will be any money left over.’
‘That’s all I’ve got down,’ said Reggie, ‘discussion may now commence.’
‘Supposing,’ remarked the Pilot, who is always ready with an objection, ‘supposing that the Treasurer himself borrows all the available funds at the beginning of the third week, or that he goes away leaving the money locked up, what is to happen?’
‘I propose rule seven,’ said Squiff. ‘The Treasurer to be unable to borrow without consulting two members, and in case of absence to appoint a deputy.’
‘Of course he must keep accounts,’ said Freddy; ‘and is responsible for collecting repayments and subscriptions.’
‘It’s a good idea,’ I said; ‘but will it work?’
‘We can but try,’ replied Reggie. ‘It saves incessant borrowing and is simple; both of which are great points in its favour. Are we all agreed on these seven Rules?’
‘Oughtn’t we to limit the borrowing powers of each member?’ asked Freddy.
‘That wouldn’t be any use,’ said Reggie; ‘but we can frame rule eight. That each member only borrow sufficient for his urgent need, and give to the Treasurer a statement of his reason for borrowing. That ought to be sufficient.’
‘I think so,’ agreed Freddy; ‘but we ought to exclude betting from the Urgent Circumstances.’
‘Right!’ said the Pilot, ‘and now for the members. There are five of us, Accrington will be six, von Graussman seven, and Fatty eight: that gives us forty pounds, which will do to start on. Suppose we appoint Fatty treasurer, he has a good head for figures.’
This proposal was unanimously carried, as Fatty was not present to decline the honour, and the meeting adjourned till the following evening in Fatty’s rooms. In the meanwhile the objects of the Club were explained to the other three in moving terms, and they promised their adherence. Von Graussman, whose father is a great Austrian financier, had grave doubts about the scheme, and wrote to his people for advice; meanwhile however, we collared his subscription, and he became, however unwillingly, a member.
A proposal by Fatty, who does not play cards, to exclude Bridge from the list of Urgent Circumstances was negatived by seven to one. The Pilot also was as usual full of objections, but these were overruled, and the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society started on its brief, but bright, career.
The first fortnight of the term was uneventful, and marked only by sustained attacks on the integrity of the Treasurer, by bribery and threats in order to induce him to break rule five. These having failed there was nothing to do but wait. On the first morning of the third week—it was a Saturday—Accrington and Squiff met at 9.15 at the bottom of the Treasurer’s staircase, and a race ensued for Fatty’s bedroom. The officialhowever declared with unnecessary heat that business hours did not begin till 10.30, and so they were obliged to retire till then. At a quarter past ten, Squiff, who is an adept at manœuvring, returned and began a conversation with Fatty who was at breakfast, which lasted till the clock struck half-past and Accrington’s step sounded on the staircase, and then he jumped up and remarked quietly ‘I want two tenners out of the Fund.’ Accrington, who arrived almost breathless, only required a modest fiver. Fatty took a seat at table with a large account-book and a stylo. He took Accrington’s case first as being the simpler, and was quite ready to advance the money, but some difficulty occurred in interpreting the rules.
‘How does one pledge one’s word within the meaning of the Act?’ enquired the Treasurer plaintively.
‘I should make him swear horribly,’ remarked Squiff; ‘I don’t think he’s the sort of person I should trust with the funds of any Club.’
The roll which Accrington threw at him did not hit him, but finished the career of a small china dog which had belonged to Fatty’s grandmother, and smashed two liqueur-glasses into fragments. When peace had been restored, Accrington produced a summons from Tuneham and Keighley—the piano-people in the High—for ‘the hire of piano for two years, tuning, replacing broken keys, do. wires, do. candlesticks, do. pedals, £5/2/: paid by cash, 2/-. Total owing. £5.’ Thisconvinced Fatty, who handed over a cheque for five pounds without demur, and Accrington left rejoicing.
Squiff’s case was harder:
‘At the end of last term,’ he explained to Fatty, who had assumed a judicial aspect, ‘I had to raise money on my motor in order to have four nights in town and do the Rugger Match properly. It is still in Goldstein’s clutches: yesterday I got a telegram to say that my Uncle Terence—Sir Terence MacGurkin, my mater’s brother—who gave me the car, is coming down here, and wants me to take him for some nice spins. If he finds I’ve pawned it, there’ll be the devil to pay, and the uncle certainly won’t pay him, nor me. I shall have to run up to town to-day, get the mo-mo, pay Goldstein, and drive it down here, ready for Uncle Terence to-morrow; and,’ he concluded rapidly, ‘if the urgency isn’t apparent even to you’—‘Don’t be rude,’ interpolated Fatty—‘then nothing will ever penetrate your brain.’
‘I think,’ Fatty had begun, when hurried steps sounded on the stairs and von Graussman appeared clad in a most curious costume, and with unbrushed hair. To him Squiff immediately said, ‘I don’t think, old chap, that you ought to present yourself in a costume like that before the Treasurer of the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society, you look as if you hadn’t been to bed all night, and then had got up too early, if such a thing is possible.’
‘It vos alright perhaps that I must be given nineteenpounds by Mr. Fatty from the moneys of the lately formed-and-much-to-be-commended-by-needy-gentlemens-’Elp-Clubs,’ he remarked in one breath.
‘Once more!’ shrieked Squiff ecstatically.
‘I vos not repeading,’ replied von Graussman with dignity, ‘in der worts of Bilate vot I vos say I had shpoken.’
‘What Pilate really said—’ began Squiff, when Fatty who had sunk into a sort of reverie, suddenly awoke and thumped on the table vigorously. ‘The valuable time of the Treasurer is being frittered away,’ he remarked solemnly. ‘The case of the O’Rossa is under consideration. He has explained his need for twenty pounds; the only remaining formality is the pledging of his word. When he has done that I will hand over the cheque.’ Squiff, who had been speaking to von Graussman, hurriedly pledged his word and left to catch the 12.10 to town, while von Graussman proceeded to pour into Fatty’s ears a long and disconnected tale in which the words, ‘Boliceman,’ ‘damnable,’ ‘fraulein,’ and ‘gompensations,’ appeared frequently, so Fatty gathered that it had some reference to an escapade in town during the week before term. However, as von Graussman was prepared to swear to the urgency of the circumstances, he saw no reason why he should not advance the amount, but discovered to his horror that there were only fifteen pounds left. He explained this to the German, who replied that ‘he could sew der matters up mit so much,’ and went off with theClub’s last money. Fatty, who saw in this a speedy ending to the worries of a Treasurership, contentedly entered the amounts in his book, and then took a cab to his History Lecture at James’.
It was only when Freddy casually applied for two pounds to pay Foundry deceased—on account—that he discovered that the end of the money did not imply the end of his troubles.
‘You lent twenty pounds to Squiff,’ screamed Freddy; ‘why, you know he’s overdrawn his next month’s allowance and pawned his dressing case.’
‘I didn’t know,’ replied Fatty placidly, ‘besides, it seems to me that those are the very circumstances in which the Club becomes useful and even necessary.’
‘Yes, but,’ retorted Freddy, ‘he won’t be able to pay it back for weeks, and I know I shall want to borrow next week.’
‘Come early and leave early,’ remarked the Treasurer irritatingly. ‘If you’d come at half-past ten when the office opens you might have got something. As it is you must wait till some one pays in.’
‘Anyhow,’ remarked Freddy, ‘by rule six you must call a meeting and announce that all funds are exhausted, and I don’t envy you the job, as I know Martha was coming round to borrow in the morning, and Reggie is sure to be hard up as well.’
The meeting fulfilled the expectation of Freddy; it was stormy on the part of Reggie and myself, placid on Fatty’s, and calmly indifferent on the part of theoriginal borrowers. Freddy demanded a further subscription which Squiff and von Graussman opposed. Eventually we arranged a compromise by which everybody was to pay in three pounds within three days, and the meeting broke up. For the next few days events progressed quietly until another meeting was suddenly summoned to report that Reggie and I having borrowed a tenner each, and Fatty himself—by permission—the remaining four pounds, funds were again exhausted, and as the time for repayment had not nearly expired we were once more at a standstill. Eventually a motion was passed by six to two, Squiff and von Graussman dissenting, that the time for repayment of the original loans should expire on the following Saturday. This caused great perturbation among the borrowers, but by the help of an overdraft at the bank von Graussman scraped up the money, and Accrington paid in his five pounds without any difficulty. The real blow to our Club fell upon us on the Sunday when the third meeting within three weeks was called to announce the absence of funds: this positively staggered us, but we had not counted on Squiff’s presence of mind. On the day before, which was fixed for paying in, he had given Fatty his cheque for twenty pounds, and had immediately afterwards drawn out the available twenty pounds—paid in by von Graussman and Accrington—on the plea of Urgent Necessity, which we discovered to be the paying of the overdraft which he knew he must have at his bank, but as the overdraft turnedout to his great surprise to be some forty pounds, of course they would not cash his last cheque, and the funds of the Club shrank to a worthless cheque for twenty pounds: this last manœuvre gave Squiff, as Freddy foolishly pointed out to him, another six weeks in which to pay off his debt to the Club, and a proposal to make all loans repayable in three days was lost by one vote. The numbers were equal, all who had borrowed voting against, and all who were free of debt, for the proposal. However, as Fatty had the casting vote, and owed the Club four pounds, the motion was lost. Our attempts to find a method of putting the Society on its legs again failed, and we agreed that we must bury it in the depths of forgetfulness.
As a gallant attempt to find a solution to a most pressing question it was very praiseworthy, but as a working institution it was a regular fiasco. Fatty explained his subsequent failure in Divvers as the result of having to settle up the somewhat confused accounts of the defunct Club; myself, I attribute it to the fact that he defined Lydia—the purple seller of Thyatira—as ‘a province in Asia Minor.’
It was on a Wednesday morning that I repaired to the Maison Squiff and found Freddy in a well-worn blazer perusing a coroneted letter signed ‘Paunbrough,’ which he silently handed me to read. I discovered that it was a communication from the noble owner of Coffington Castle, County Down, enclosing Butler’s bill with a dirty card attached. The latter enquired in terms more direct than polite why the hot place Freddy had been distributing his father’s cards about Oxford, and stated that he, the noble Earl, was condemned if he would pay thirty shillings for a bouquet to a low ballet girl. It concluded with the final slap that Messrs. Swindell and Rooke, the family solicitors, had instructions not to pay over another monthly allowance until they received Butler’s bill receipted. This crushing communication was pointedly signed ‘Your loving father,’ and a postscript demanded the return of any more of his Lordship’s cards which Freddy might have purloined.
‘Rather rough,’ I said, ‘but you can go on for another month anyhow, yesterday was the First.’
‘Not much,’ said Freddy, ‘the governor’s sharper than you’d think to look at him, and he telegraphed to the sharks to stop my instalment yesterday.’
While we were discussing this trying situation, Mrs. Corker appeared bearing a blue envelope which she shot into my lap. It was addressed to—
Viscount Gilderdale,129 St. Aldate’s, Oxford,
Viscount Gilderdale,
129 St. Aldate’s, Oxford,
and so I handed it on to Freddy, who courageously opened it. The contents proved to be merely an official confirmation of the noble lord’s own letter, which, as Freddy ruefully observed, was ‘rather like rubbing it in.’
‘Can you pay Butler for me, and then I’ll get my thirty quidlets?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t got a penny,’ I replied, ‘but can’t Squiff supply the needful?’
‘Oh! he’s worse off than we are; but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind our taking his silver candlesticks round to Ranger’s “for one night only,”’ said Frederick. ‘They ought to fetch thirty shillings, and then we shall get thirty pounds, and twenty to one are good enough odds for me.’
‘Well, at any rate,’ I said, ‘Let’s try the Pilot first, and Accrington.’
‘Whatever we do, must be done quickly,’ said Freddy, as he searched frantically for a note-book, ‘I’m in for Contracts next week, and Anson is heavy on my chest.’
‘Let’s go along to College,’ I suggested, ‘Accrington’s working day and night for his second shot at Mods., so he’s sure to be in.’
As we reached Cecil’s the Pilot emerged from the porch carrying Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, and three large red notebooks; he is in for Honour Theology, but as in a recent essay he explained the word Gamaliel as meaning ‘the Pavement,’ while Gabbatha became ‘the lady who died after knitting coats and garments,’ we fear he is not very far advanced. Without any preamble we demanded thirty shillings, but the Pilot, whose money affairs are in fearful confusion, explained that he had just borrowed three pounds off his tailor, and could not possibly lend us anything.
We accordingly hurried on into College, and found Accrington surveying two summonses spread out on Hawkins’ Handbook to Logic, which invaluable work he was endeavouring to learn by heart before Monday.
Freddy had just begun ‘Can you lend,’ when his eye fell upon the blue documents, and the request died upon his lips.
‘No, I’m very sorry I can’t,’ said Accrington, ‘can you?’ But nobody laughed at this; the situation was altogether too grave.
It appeared from a perusal of these documents that Messrs. Hooper, of the High, and Daniel Dickens and Co., the picture dealers, had taken out a summons signed by a certain Frank Bolton, Mandatory,—whateverthat might be—which bade ‘Stephen Kirkbury Accrington appear personally or by his proctor at the Apodyterium of the Convocation House to answer the plaintiff’s claim.’
Some paragraphs on the back remarked ‘that if the debt claimed is more than six years old, that if you were then or are now a married woman, or have been discharged under the Bankruptcy Act, notice must be given three days before the hearing.’
These parting shots did not appear to give Accrington any comfort, and he said that he was trying to raise a loan from the family lawyer. We condoled with him, and then seeing clearly that there was no hope for us in that quarter, hastened back to pawn the candlesticks before Squiff’s return.
On the stairs of their digs we met Mrs. Corker, who was, as usual with her during working hours, very much out of breath, but she managed to pant at Freddy,
‘’Ave you seen Mr. O’Roozer, me lord?’
‘No,’ said Freddy, ‘has he been in?’
‘O yes, me lord,’ replied the old lady, ‘’e came in about ’arf an hour ago and asked for your lordship, ’e said as ’ow ’e wanted to see your lordship most pertickler.’
‘But about ten minutes ago,’ she continued, now in a tone of mingled wonder and indignation, ‘as I was a-goin up these ’ere stairs, I met ’im a comin’ down with them there ’andsome candlesticks under ’isharm, and when I says, “I’ll clean ’em for yer, Mr. O’Roozer, if that’s what yer wants,” ’e said, “No thank yer, Mrs. Corker, I’m afraid nothin’ what you could do wouldn’t be no use, I think I shall ’ave to soak them,” and then blessed if ’e didn’t rush out of the front door an’ get into a cab, silver candlesticks an’ all, a laughin’ most haffable.’
There might have been more of these appalling revelations to follow, but at that moment I caught sight of Freddy’s face, on which there had settled a blank look of consternation, and we marched upstairs together, much sadder if wiser men.
‘Well, what the deuce we are going to do now, I’ll be shot if I know,’ he said as we shut the door behind us. ‘Squiff’s gone and popped the only marketable commodity in the house, and there are thirty precious pounds in London simply waiting for me to send for them.’
‘I know,’ I said; ‘couldn’t Webster, your old scout in College, lend you thirty shillings for one day? I’ve been told that he runs a house at Margate, and is worth nearly five hundred a year. Some of these College servants are regular Croesuses.’
‘Yes, that’s not half a bad idea, Martha; in fact it’s about the only thing we can do; let’s go round and interview the old bird at once.’
So saying we descended the well-worn stairs again, and hurried round to see the mysterious Webster, whowears a coat like a banker, and always takes front seats at the best concerts.
The worthy man readily lent us the needful, and so that little trouble came to an end.
Misfortunes, however, never come singly, and only that evening Reggie and I and the Pilot were progged in the Hyde, and requested in the politest manner to call on the Junior Proctor at Gloucester at 9.30 next morning.
‘I suppose,’ said the Pilot, mournfully, as we moved off, ‘that this is a quid-touch, but where my adjectived quid is to come from I don’t know.’
‘Je ne sais pas, you don’t sais pas, and he doesn’t sai pas,’ quoted Reggie.
‘Freddy gets his oof to-morrow, but certainly not by nine,’ I said.
‘Then the only thing to be done is to ask the man to wait a day, and borrow the money from Freddy when he gets his cheque,’ remarked the Pilot, cheerfully.
On the following morning we dropped anchor in the Gluggins porch at 9.30, and asked for the J.P.’s rooms, which we found in the well-known row of cottages on the left of the garden, with three bull-dogs guarding the door. When our names had been taken, Reggie went in, and came out smiling after a short interview.
‘Told me to let him have it by one o’clock,’ muttered Reggie, as the Pilot passed in. ‘I said I expected a remittance from my aunt.’
In a moment the Pilot also returned looking assolemn as usual. ‘He got rather angry when I mentioned a remittance from my aunt, but let me off till one o’clock,’ he remarked.
When I was shown in, I found the J.P., a round and pompous little man, robed and banded, standing by the table.
‘I suppose, Mr. Cochrane,’ he began at once, ‘that you, like the other two gentlemen whom I have just seen, are expecting a remittance from your aunt.’
‘No, sir,’ I replied meekly, ‘my great uncle always attends to these matters, but I am certainly expecting a remittance from him.’
This soft answer, instead of turning away the dignitary’s wrath, caused him to grow purple in the face, but he controlled his temper very creditably and merely said,
‘Very well, Mr. Cochrane, I give you till one o’clock, but if the twenty shillings are not in my hands by that time I shall communicate with your Provost and make matters unpleasant for you, er—good morning.’
I joined the other two, and Reggie returned with me to breakfast, but the Pilot, who had to attend the Dean’s lecture at ten, put off his meal till eleven.
As we made our way through the buttered eggs it became more and more clear that Reggie had a grievance, and at last it came out.
‘Here am I, a working man’—this is where I coughed, but Reggie did not appear to notice it—‘with two lectures between now and lunch, both of which I am compelledto cut because an unfeeling Proctor is dunning me for a pound, which I must borrow from some one before one o’clock.’
‘Yes, it is very hard,’ I agreed. ‘But still I believe you have occasionally steeled your heart to cut a lecture even when there has been no Proctor in the background, and after all he can’t help it, it’s his business; I daresay if you knew him you’d find that he smoked a meerschaum and swore very much like other people.’
‘Yes, I know, that’s all right,’ said Reggie, who never likes to pursue an argument after he has got his own particular complaint off his chest, ‘we’ll wait for the Pilot to have his brekker and then go round to see Freddy.’
‘He’s sure to have his cheque by then,’ I said, ‘and of course he’ll lend us the wherewithal.’
The Pilot finished breakfast at 11.20 precisely, and then after carefully perusing the current society divorce case, we made our way to St. Aldate’s.
We found Freddy crouching in an arm-chair murmuring to himself passages from Anson, and instantly demanded if the money had arrived.
‘Oh, I dare say it’ll come some time to-day,’ said Freddy, crossly, and muttered to himself, ‘Agents of Necessity.’
‘That’s no earthly good,’ replied the Pilot, ‘we must find three quid by one o’clock and the oof-tree bears no fruit at this time of year.’
‘What’s the money for?’ demanded Freddy.
‘Progged in the “Shades,”’ responded Reggie laconically, ‘and you are going to pay the fine.’
‘I didn’t know it before,’ Freddy answered, ‘but of course if the money comes in time it’s yours.’
‘We must manage it somehow,’ I said, ‘when’s the next post?’
‘Ring and ask the Corker, I don’t know.’
‘Which it sometimes comes at a quarter to one, and sometimes at ’arf past,’ said the old lady on being interrogated.
When he heard this the Pilot collapsed heavily into an arm-chair, while Freddy, who did not yet fully appreciate the gravity of the situation, went upstairs to search for a note-book in the other sitting-room.
Soon after he had left the room a raucous voice was heard downstairs enquiring for Milord Gilderdale, and the Corker appeared to be engaged in an animated discussion with the owner thereof.
From two heavy thumps on the ceiling I gathered that Freddy had heard the caller’s voice and did not desire to interview him.
Mrs. Corker now appeared, and after expressing surprise at Freddy’s absence, asked me to interview, and if possible dispose of ‘that there houtrageous man in the ’all.’
On descending I found a corpulent man, with a rubicund face and no perceptible chin, standing with a sheaf of documents in his hand.
‘Good mornin’, sir,’ he said, ‘Hi come from Dopinand Bleeder’s the ’orse-dealers, and I’ve got a little bill ’ere for yer, honly a matter of fifteen pounds, as I’ll trouble you to settle.’
‘Doping and Bleeder,’ I murmured, ‘I don’t know the people.’
‘Now look ’ere, sir,’ he said with an expression which betokened sorrow rather than anger, ‘none o’ these little games, you’re Lord Gilderdale, haren’t you?’
‘Certainly not,’ I replied crossly, ‘next time perhaps you will make sure of whom you are talking to before you descend to impertinence, my man; little games indeed.’
‘Ho, then you’re the O’Roozer,’ he remarked, ‘I’ve got a bill for you for twenty-three pounds seventeen and fourpence.’
‘What’s the fourpence for?’ I queried, but by this time the portly gentleman was getting somewhat angry.
‘Never yer mind, sir, it’s for value received, hand given,’ he said, ‘an’ our Mr. Bleeder says as ’ow ’e ’opes you’ll see your way to lettin’ ’im ’ave the money this week, or ’e’ll ’ave to take proceedings, which is always most repugnant both for you and hus.’
‘Now you’ve got that off your chest, you can go,’ I said, ‘I’m not Mr. O’Rossa nor am I Lord Gilderdale. Good-day.’
But the worthy representative of Messrs. Doping and Bleeder was not so easily disposed of.
‘Now look ’ere,’ he said, ‘Hi believe that it’s hall a bloomin’ ’oax, if yer aint Wiscount Gilderdale, an’ yer hain’t the Ho Roozer ’oo the blazes are yer?’
At this stage of the proceedings I opened the door and beckoned O.P. 281, who was lounging against the wall of the Town Hall opposite, to advance.
‘I give this person into custody,’ I began, but this proved sufficient, the man from D. and B.’s had fled with unprecedented speed, and so after pouring palm oil into the ever-ready hand of the worthy officer, I went upstairs.
I found the other three gazing anxiously at the clock, which pointed to a quarter to one, and appeared to be advancing terribly quickly.
‘Hadn’t we better call a cab,’ said the Pilot; ‘supposing the oof does turn up about five to, we shall have to drive to the bank before we can go to the Proctor.’
‘Yes, my aunt, I’d never thought of that,’ said Reggie, ‘It’ll take fully another minute and a quarter, say even one and a half, and minutes are exceptionally precious just now.’
At this juncture the Corker, who was as excited as anybody, rushed breathlessly into the room and gasped, ‘The postman ’as just left Thomas,’ me lord, an’ ’e’ll be ’ere in a minute.’
‘No, by Jingo, that’s ripping,’ cried Freddy, ‘we must be getting off then,’ and as he spoke we all rushed downstairs together.
While we were picking our caps out of the collection in the hall, the Pilot, who always acts the part of Job’s comforter on these occasions, remarked slowly, ‘I say, what shall we do if the draft doesn’t come?’
‘We shan’t do anything, we shall be done,’ I said.
‘Well, anyhow, here’s the postman and we shall know our fate,’ put in Freddy running to the door, as footsteps shuffled on the pavement outside. He threw it open, and clutched a packet of letters from the hands of the postman, and then for the first time for many a long day, he fearlessly tore open a long blue envelope, extracting a letter which he dropped on the floor, and a cheque for thirty pounds, which he carefully examined.
We then got into Morgan’s hansom and drove at an alarming speed to the Bank, but to our horror we found the doors closed when we got there, and the grey-haired man, who was sweeping the steps outside, informed us, what we ought to have remembered, that the bank shuts at one o’clock on Thursdays, and it was just striking the hour on Carfax.
‘Gloucester,’ shrieked Freddy, as we bundled into the cab, and shot down the Corn at a fearful rate in the direction of Gluggins. The black clock over the archway pointed to four minutes past as we got out, I clutching the draft, while Freddy waited in the cab, discussing the prospects of the National with Morgan through the trap in the roof.
The J.P. received us with a frown, and remarked coldly, ‘Punctuality is the politeness of princes, Mr. Arlington.’
‘I am afraid we put our trust in postmen, not princes,’ replied Reggie; ‘and ours was late this morning; however,if you wouldn’t mind changing this cheque, sir, we’re ready to pay you.’
‘Really, sir, your conduct in this matter is most surprising,’ said the Proctor; ‘first you come here unpunctually, and now you offer me a large cheque on behalf of yourself and your companions, whom I am afraid are no better than you are.’
‘But the bank is closed,’ put in Reggie.
‘How do you mean the bank is closed, Mr. Arlington?’
‘It’s Thursday, sir,’ chimed in the Pilot.
‘Well, Mr. Meredith, I don’t see, if the bank closes at one o’clock, why you didn’t go there before.’
‘But Freddy’s—I mean Lord Gilderdale’s—cheque didn’t arrive till one o’clock,’ said Reggie.
‘I fail to understand what connection Lord Gilderdale has with this matter,’ said the Proctor.
‘Oh,’ said Reggie, ‘none of us had any money just at present, but we knew Gilderdale expected a cheque from his solicitors this morning, and he promised to lend us a sovereign each.’
‘Oh, then, I am really fining Lord Gilderdale for your delinquencies; this is a very fine situation, Mr. Arlington,’ said the Proctor, with a nearer approach to geniality than we had hitherto seen.
‘Well, sir, hardly that,’ I put in; ‘you see all three of us really are expecting remittances of our own as we told you this morning, but as Lord Gilderdale’s arrived before any of ours he very kindly lent us three pounds.’
‘Very well then, gentlemen,’ said the Proctor, ‘I don’t know that this arrangement is quite regular, or that it would exactly meet with the approval of the Vice-Chancellor, but after all you have produced the amount of your fines, and it is no business of mine to enquire how you obtained that amount. I am sorry to say that I believed at first that your slight unpunctuality was due to disrespect, and that you were trying to do what I believe the present generation would call “pulling my leg” over these cheques, but I see that I misjudged you, and shall ask you to bring the money at ten to-morrow. Good morning, Mr. Arlington; good morning, gentlemen, good morning,’ and so saying the little man collapsed into his arm-chair, while we departed on our way more or less rejoicing.
Freddy, to whom we communicated the result of the interview, soothed our consciences with the very plausible, if somewhat immoral, argument:
‘It don’t do to give that sort of bird too much truth all in a lump, he ain’t accustomed to it; besides, if you start bringin’ him up on it, he’ll always expect it.’
On our return to 129 St. Aldate’s we took Squiff to task severely for daring to dispose of his own silver candlesticks on the previous day; as Freddy remarked, ‘What are things coming to when a man can do as he likes with his own property?’
‘I know where things are going to,’ responded Squiff, ‘and that is to Ranger’s in Beerage Street, I’ve had a breezy time lately; thank heaven term is nearly over.’
‘Ditto, ditto,’ remarked the Pilot mournfully; ‘if one looks back at the end of any term, there always seem to be so many things which one might have done and hasn’t; and such a lot of entirely unnecessary things which have come off most successfully. When I remember that, out of 751 allotted pages of Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, I have read exactly 57, the hollowness of life comes upon me with crushing reality.’
‘Poor old Pilot,’ laughed Squiff, ‘he’s got “the recollections” badly.’
‘I shall shortly have “the Collections” much worse,’ replied the Pilot.
‘Thank goodness,’ remarked Reggie fervently, ‘that terminal reports are not sent home to our “parents or guardians” from this University; what awful shocks they’d get.’
‘A printed record of gate-sconces and fines during residence should be given to every one on their departure, and the number of windows broken by the future B.A. should be certified by the Provost,’ I said.
‘Or even better,’ replied the Pilot, ‘a record of theatres attended, with musical comedies marked in red, should be sent to every Dean at the end of each term, by the theatre people.’
‘Great Scott, what revelations there’d be; why, some of the most respectable people would lose their characters at once. Poor old de Beresford, who went six times to “San Toy” and seven to “Florodora,” is supposed to be a model character.’ This from Reggie.
‘Chiefly,’ I remarked, ‘because he never cuts the Dean and always pays the Treasurer “the exact amount of his battels, not requiring change,” see College Rules.’
‘If we could all acquire good reputations as easily, how happy we should be,’ murmured the Pilot pensively; ‘somehow I never have been able to get the authorities to take me seriously.’
‘You must start by taking yourself seriously,’ replied Freddy, ‘but it all shows how little our Dons really know about us. Look at old von Graussman, noisy and addicted to beer, but hard-working and conscientious. His character among the Dons is “lazy, rowdy, and conscienceless”: you know after a row he’s always sent for first. Then take, as I said before, de Beresford, or Accrington, who conceals behind a constant attendance at early chapel and a habit of going about with a logic book in his hand, the most villainous and demoniacal mind and a rooted hatred of all in authority; he’s at the bottom of most ructions in College.’
‘It’s quite true,’ I said, ‘I am afraid on the whole we’re a bad and unvirtuous lot.’
‘Looking back on the past term, I see,’ remarked the Pilot pointing out of window, ‘a blue haze over everything; I can dimly descry several theatres, three twenty-firsters, many large dinners, four Saturday nights, and a couple of outings to town; these, with a slight admixture of lectures and a row in College, constitutes the employment of most of us for the last term; one or two have had schools, but for the rest this is “le monde ou l’on s’amuse.”’
‘True, O King,’ said Squiff, ‘but I am going to turn you all out now, as I’ve got to pack. I’ve got leave to go down to-morrow: I suppose, by-the-bye, I shall see you all in town on Saturday at the Rugger Match.’
‘If not at it, at least afterwards,’ I said; ‘we’ll say the Royal Leicester for choice, I think, and supper at—?’
‘We can settle that later; you must go now,’ said Squiff hastily, and so we departed, promising to speed the O’Rossa on his way at the station. The chronicles of the Rugger Match, and what happened after it, and before it, and how we all got to it, require a fresh chapter and a new pen.
It was Friday, the day before the Rugger Match, and every one was considering how to get away, as the College Collections were going on all the morning, and the match began at two o’clock. Those who had been in the Schools, of course, had no difficulty in getting leave; but the excuses offered by the rest were more numerous than truthful. The number of dentists with whom urgent appointments had been made was simply phenomenal, while several men had relatives who had chosen that exact day to leave for the Riviera, or to return from South Africa. The rush by the 12.52, which arrived almost in time for the match, was unprecedented. Freddy, who had been in for a Viva that morning, arrived at the station just before the train started, with a shirt in his coat pocket, and two ties and a collar rolled up in a copy of theDaily Mail. He also brought two bags stuffed with unnecessary things, bulging and unlocked; he is, I think, the most untidy person in Oxford. The Pilot, Reggie, de Beresford, Accrington and I were waiting for him on the platform; and de B. had just offered five to one against his turning up, but, unfortunately no one had taken him, owing to Freddy’sknown unpunctuality. We secured by the use of palm-oil, a carriage to ourselves, and played poker on the way up. We finished soon after Reading, and then the Pilot, who had been in an utterly penniless condition for two days previously, explained for our benefit how he had secured the necessary funds for this expedition.
‘You know,’ he began, ‘that picture “The Golden Dream,” by Dicksee; well, I bought that at Gill and Manser’s in the Corn, when I came up, and it cost me four guineas. Since then the value of the thing has gone up, and I got nearly seven pounds for it when I sold it to Pickington and Bluster. So I kept the fiver for this little trip; and sent the other people something on account.’
‘How did you know the thing would go up?’ inquired Freddy.
‘I didn’t,’ replied the Pilot. ‘But I knew it wouldn’t go down.’
On our arrival at Paddington we separated for various destinations: Freddy and I drove straight to Queen’s to meet Squiff who had been up overnight, and found the match had already started; so we made for our seats and proceeded to enjoy the game. It was an excellent fight, but resulted in a draw, which I always consider most unsatisfactory. However, the last ten minutes were so hard fought, and the relief so great, that Squiff, when the whistle was blown, out of pure joy planted his fist through the topper of an elderly and portly person with a gold chain, who was sitting in front; theold boy (who had been dancing on one leg and gurgling ‘Cambridge’ loudly) took no notice, but continued to yell, so we left him, and squeezed our way out. I got into a cab with Freddy and Squiff, and drove off to the ‘Cabin’ for tea.
‘Poor old Verimisti, who came to town with me yesterday, isn’t up yet,’ Squiff informed us; ‘he was very tired last night, didn’t arrive at the ‘Knavesmire’ till 4.30 a.m., and then gave the cabby sixpence and expected him to be satisfied. I had to come down in jimmies, pay the cabby, and help him to disembark. When I looked him up this morning he was having his fourth Laager, and at the mere mention of ham he turned a rich yellow.’
‘I gather, we’re all dining at the ‘Sphere’ at 7.30,’ I said, ‘we shall be the old crew plus Verimisti (if he’s well enough to come) and de Beresford. Is Fatty up?’
‘No,’ answered Freddy, ‘Fatty’s got a wealthy uncle in town who insisted on seeing the Bodleian and James’ Gardens this afternoon; but he’s going to shunt the old man at five, and coming up ready dressed by the 5.50.’
‘I shall go back and unpack after tea,’ I said, ‘where are the others staying?’
‘We’re at the Knavesmire,’ replied Squiff, ‘but von Graussman, and the Pilot and Reggie are at the Haverstock, while de Beresford and Accrington are doing themselves proud at the Great Trafalgar.’
The Cabin was crowded, but after some time we got a table, but no chairs, so I leaned against the wall,while Freddy sat on Squiff’s knee. This seemed to cause some surprise, until we found ourselves obliged to give our only seat to a lady who was standing, and as we couldn’t sit on the floor we left hurriedly and tealess. Two shillings-worth all round at the American bar at the ‘Cri’ seemed to revive us wonderfully, and after this it was time to dress, so we hurried home to the Knavesmire. When we had finished we found Verimisti painfully dressing, assisted by the boots, and looking very yellow about the gills.
‘Oh! Freddy,’ he cried when he saw us, ‘I have my tongue so like sulphur, and have my twelfth laager just drunk, and still thirsty am I!’
We both laughed most unfeelingly, and after he had bathed his aching brow in cold water, led him gently downstairs, and, having packed ourselves into two hansoms, made for the Sphere, which we reached, according to our invariable custom, ten minutes late.
We found the rest of the party already assembled in the big hall, and made our way to a table for ten which had been reserved for us. The whole family, especially von Graussman, were in a highly excitable state, and the stirring selections of cake-walks and musical comedies that were played by the band caused some of the parties who were dining in the room to perform most extraordinary antics. A popular Sousa march was accompanied by clapping of hands, while ‘Sammy’ was sung by the entire company.
‘Well! here’s confusion to the Examiners,’ saidFreddy, as he drained his glass after the fish; and when Freddy begins drinking—confusion or otherwise—after the fish, I know what is likely to ensue. Freddy had also just been ploughed in Contracts.
‘To ’Ell mit dem,’ added von Graussman, who had missed Law Prelim. again.
These sentiments having been duly honoured, we turned our attention to ‘Ponichets de Volaille,’ which Verimisti, who had got through a quart of moselle cup on his own, insisted on eating with a table-spoon.
‘There’ll be quite a clearance next term, I’m afraid,’ remarked Squiff; ‘such a number of the Unregenerate have failed in Law Prelim. or Mods., and they’re sure to be sent down.’
‘Yes, I was gone to drive mit a gountry vicar, next week,’ remarked von Graussman pensively, ‘and, oh! but the dullnesses vos ’orrible. Dere vos only von publig-house vour miles away, and dat they closes at ten hours. But,’ he added triumphantly, ‘I vos not a Brotestant, and I do not rise for der service at eight hours morning.’
‘Well, anyhow, we’ll make things hum in the summer,’ said Freddy; ‘it’ll be my last term, and Squiff’s and Reggie’s and several others, so we must create an impression, and a good one if possible, before we leave the ’Varsity.’
‘Don’t try and make an impression on the pavement outside the Royal Leicester to-night,’ said de Beresfordmockingly, ‘it’s asphalt and very hard. I know,’ he added feelingly, ‘I’ve tried it.’
‘Anyhow, let’s make this a record night,’ said Accrington, who bubbled with excitement.
This sentiment met with a cordial reception. Verimisti rose carefully from the table and commenced a long and rambling speech which was ended by the arrival of what the Pilot somewhat coarsely calls ‘The Settler.’ Its real name is Ponche Romaine, and it acts as an appetiser, enabling one to begin again hungry on the second part of the dinner. This proceeded somewhat more rapidly, as we found it was getting late. We honoured several toasts, including ‘Conspuez les dons’ from Verimisti, ‘Hoch der Kaiser!’ from von Graussman, and ‘The Unregenerate’ from Freddy, and then rather unsteadily the party made its way to the cloak-room, and got into its outer garments.
A slight sensation was caused by Squiff kissing the girl who sold buttonholes in the entrance hall, while Verimisti’s attempt to embrace the stately official outside caused that personage both surprise and annoyance.
The arrival of the party at the Leicester was accompanied by much noise, and loud cheers on the part of several other parties who were also disembarking. As we went up the steps, somebody clutched my arm, and turning round I found it was Blandford of Barrabas’.
‘Hullo,’ I said, ‘are you coming in?’
‘That’s the question,’ he replied. It appeared that he had already been thrown out, but wanted to come inwith our party again. ‘If I cram my hat down on my nose, and button up my coat, I’m sure they’ll pass me; I only want you to say I belong to you.’
‘I’ll try,’ I said dubiously, and we walked on to the barrier where I presented our ticket for Box 10 and our party passed in, accompanied by the audible comments of one of the officials on the size of the party. De Beresford, who came last, was stopped and had to take a five-bob ticket, for, as the man said, ‘Hi’ve passed hin nine gents for that borx already, and hits only meant to ’old six or seving.’
The scene within, well, everybody must know it; the ‘five-bob ring’ was absolutely full, ’Varsity men and members of the tender sex being nearly equal in number.
As we passed along to our box a person with a purple nose and a battered top-hat was singing about the brokers, and this was about all we saw of the performance that evening. We left our hats and coats in the box and then sallied out in a body in search of spirits both kindred and otherwise.
Owing to the very crowded state of the promenade we were unable to hold together, and I soon found myself sandwiched between Verimisti and von Graussman bound for an adjacent bar. As we were turning into the desired haven the Italian observed a small notice saying ‘No ladies served in this bar,’ and immediately sheered off with a pained expression on his very expressive face.
‘We are not ladies, but all the identical we cannot without female society be,’ he remarked in an injured tone and hustled us rapidly on to the passage at the further end of the promenade, where a uniformed official gave us tickets outside the big bar.
This was a scene of indescribable confusion, and as we entered two porters came forward leading between them a well-known member of the Cambridge team. He was very talkative, but his eloquence did not appear to move his captors in the least degree, possibly because none of his remarks were at all intelligible. After them there followed several more Cambridge blues and an elderly gentleman with a bucolic face who appeared to be very irate. The procession passed us with some speed, but we subsequently found the talkative Cantab singing a song on the floor of another bar, and discovered that this was due to the influence of the bucolic gentleman who was an old ’Varsity man and a legal luminary of very great brilliancy.
The front of the bar itself was hidden by two lines of ’Varsity men, nearly all asking for different things but all at the same time. However, I soon found a suitable inlet, and all was going well with us when one of the fair nymphs behind the bar unfortunately shot von Graussman in the nose with a lemonade or soda cork, producing an entirely unexpected effect.
The German fell into the lap of a lady sitting close behind exclaiming ‘Ach? I vos mortified.’ Her cloak covered his head for a moment, but extricating himselfhe tendered her his admission-ticket, and begged her in very broken English to let him out of the cloak-room. To his impassioned appeal she replied very volubly in German, and an affecting scene ensued when he fell upon her neck, and loudly claimed her as his long-lost mother. Within the space of two minutes a large and noisy crowd had gathered round, and were hoarsely cheering, so it was some time before Verimisti and I could push our way through. When we did get to the front, the lady was assuring von Graussman in a penetrating whisper, that though she was not his mother, she was willing to be his wife.
Von Graussman, whose impressionable heart was once captured in Buda Pesth and only redeemed at considerable expense, sheered off immediately, and confidentially informed us afterwards that ‘she vos a dam dangerous woman.’
Having made a vain attempt to approach the bar again, we fought our way back to the promenade, and discovered that ‘Mephisto’ was about to loop the loop. As everyone was anxious to see this, we regained our box, which we found crowded to suffocation, and by standing on chairs at the back got a view of the exciting item. Freddy, who having leant against the electric bell and ordered drinks round, had gone away and forgotten to pay, could not be found; so Verimisti shelled out, and after drinking his health, we moved out again. I may mention that this was the only item on the programme of which I have any recollection, as soon afterwardsall became dim for a short time, and I only revived in the further bar with Freddy and Accrington beside me. In the meanwhile it appears that Squiff and de Beresford, both of whom were ‘among the breakers,’ had made a determined attempt to throw one of the chuckers-out downstairs, and were now repenting their mistake in the cool air of Leicester Square; but they subsequently returned in a very dishevelled condition ‘by some secret way known to all but themselves.’
I am told that I had begun to make skilful arrangements for looping the loop with the help of two round topped tables, when a stalwart official requested Squiff and de Beresford to calm me down, which they had succeeded in doing with a handkerchief soaked in soda-water.
As soon as my sight was thoroughly restored we returned to the box, but did not feel well enough to take any interest in the performance.
Moreover, just at that moment we were alarmed by thunderous crashes on the door which Blandford hastily opened, and Verimisti rushed in followed by a heated and indignant official; he rushed to the front of the box and began to climb out, endeavouring to drop into the stalls, explaining meanwhile that he ‘must escape dese awful mens in uneform who put themselves upon my nerve.’
He became very indignant when Accrington caught him by the collar, and, in his subsequent struggles to escape, his dress coat was ripped up astern from top to bottom and part of his braces gave way.
The functionary who had chased him demanded his immediate expulsion, but when Reggie explained that he belonged to our box he retired peacefully after accepting a gin-cocktail that had grown upon the floor by some mysterious means.
As the door closed upon the officer, the voice of Fatty was heard from underneath a pile of coats in the corner.
‘I don’t know what is happening,’ he remarked plaintively, ‘but if somebody will fetch me an Angostura and ginger-beer and pay for it, I shall be quite happy for half-an-hour.’
‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Freddy, who was steadying himself by a clothes peg, ‘who is to fetch you anything; besides, if they did, do you suppose they’d get it here in safety?’
‘Yes,’ put in Blandford, ‘the person in pink plush with white extremities lost seven drinks off his tray on the way to the next box just now.’
Here a lady, whose only known name was Girlie, and who had been dumped down in the box by some member of our party who had completely forgotten her, demanded a sherry and bitters.
‘Who’s that?’ remarked Freddy unsteadily, as he let go one hat peg and caught another after two vain efforts. ‘Whashedoinere?’
‘Can’t imagine,’ replied Fatty; and then Freddy having incautiously lost his grip on his sole means ofsupport and fallen against the bell, the conversation was terminated by the appearance of the waiter.
‘This lady,’ said Accrington to the waiter, ‘wants to stand us drinks all round.’
Girlie then rose and commenced a protest which was more forcible than polite; but Accrington waved her aside with a regal gesture.
‘I daresay you didn’t mean to say so m’dear,’ he added, ‘but there are somanyqueerpeopleretnight.’
After the offended Girlie had left the box, Fatty was just proceeding to order the terrible mixture dear to his heart, when Freddy addressed the waiter as ‘Puddle darling,’ and enquired if he was going to Hardtopp-on-Sands for the mixed bathing.
The waiter’s reply was to slam the door from the outside, and Fatty’s ginger-beered Angostura vanished into the dim and distant future.
At this moment the last turn concluded, and the orchestra gave tongue to the National Anthem, which was caught up vigorously in all parts of the house.
It took us quite a quarter of an hour to collect our party, but when this had been done we made hastily for Jacques’ to make sure of getting something to eat and drink before closing time. Blandford, who belongs to the New Lyric, invited the whole party to sup there, but I dissuaded him; and as we afterwards found that the Club was closed indefinitely, my wisdom was justified. Crossing the Circus we lost Reggie; who subsequently scandalised the habitués of the GreatTrafalgar by reappearing about 11.30 next morning in evening dress with an improbable tale of a cousin from Peckham Rye, who had taken him in for the night.
At the entrance to the Restaurant, Freddy sighted an awful looking object with an eye-glass, which subsequently caused him much perturbation. An appeal to the presiding genius of the lobster bar to have the offensive person removed proved unavailing, and so we made for the supper room endeavouring to forget his glassy eye and pinched waist. Since it was no longer as early as it had been, the room was nearly full, each table being occupied by one or more young gentlemen enjoying assorted confectionery. Before we had time to do anything a fight between two ladies, late of Hamburg, but now of Aphrodite Mansions, according to the waiter, engrossed our attention. The subject of dispute was a weak-looking little man with pince-nez who gazed helplessly at the combatants, evidently wondering if his fate would be that of the baby in the case adjudicated by the late Solomon of Jerusalem! The end came quite suddenly, for a herculean official unobstrusively removed the two ladies, leaving the poor little man to consume a double portion of rum omelette in solitude.
By running two tables together we managed to keep our party united, and an invaluable waiter who appeared to know our wants by instinct, dumped down several dishes of devilled kidneys and two magnums of the best, which were consumed as though none of us hadhad a meal for a week. We were doing very nicely, thank you, and Freddy and Fatty had already fallen into a comatose condition when the room was electrified by the appearance of Ironsides of Tydvil carrying the offensive eye-glass person upside down by one leg. Several waiters clung unheeded to his trousers, and the manager followed giving vent to frenzied ejaculations. The creature’s disengaged leg had only just collided with the head waiter’s face, and swept three glasses off a buffet when the lights went out, and simultaneously a piece of grilled haddock found a lodgement in my eye. Those in authority raised a melancholy chorus of ‘time, gentlemen, please,’ with a foreign accent, and Freddy, having tucked a magnum under each arm, led the procession to the door, supported by Accrington with the bill pinned on to his coat-tail.