Related article: " Dolphin," or is it the ** Nelson,"
or some other of those rooms
whose identity is distinguished in
old-fashioned hotels by names in-
stead of numbers. Our window
looks out into the crowded
thoroughfare and, yes, certainly
the street is much more crowded
than it was in the days long, long
gone by when we walked its pave-
ments in cap and gown. Still,
how picturesque and old world it
all is ! There is no change in the
quaint and gabled houses though
their windows look out on much
changed passers by.
We sally out to stroll round by
college and church, by ancient
library and halls of learning. A
seedy-looking individual waylays
us at the door, probably thinking
that we look like unsophisticated
st^rangers. Perhaps even he hopes
that we may turn out to be
Americans, eager to be guided and
liberal of largesse. Can he take
us to see the objects of interest ?
** Wretched man, go away ; we
knew them before you were
born ! "
What a day for early November!
We said that floods of sunshine
poured upon spire and tower and
there is not the smallest suspicion
of the Oxford fog that received
us when we matriculated at this
same season, at a date when our
good Queen was still a young and
happy matron. How well we
recollect our governor's face of
doubt as to the future of his callow
offspring, when he was told by an
undergraduate friend, F. P. prince
of good fellows, good scholars and
good sportsmen, " Yes, it is a
bit damp here, but we support our
constitutions by drinking as much
port as we can get hold of." The
port at Oxford was good certainly
in those days — we are told that
the students are content with a
less carefully-stored and mature
vintage now. Are their con-
stitutions better or worse for the
change ?
We turn down by Broad Street,
The grey walls of the colleges are
blushing in their rosy mantle of
Virginia creeper. It does not
make them look young but gives
their age the air of **a lusty
winter, frosty but kindly." We
look into a gateway as we pass.
My stars ! what a crowd of
bicycles. What would Charlie
Symonds have said to such a form
of locomotion ? By the way we
never asked whether the stables
where Charlie Symonds ruled and
so many undergraduates ran up
ticks for horseflesh, still remain as
they were, one of the joys of
Oxford.
We look down the road towards
Wadham. Ah, that spot brings
another reminiscence to mind.
There was a ** town and gown "
and we with others, full of con-
{
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OXFORD REVISITED.
85
fidence in the accomplishments
acquired from Tom Evans (** him
as brought out Bob Brettle " was
his personal certificate of character)
.were seeking adventures. Sud-
denly, by the moon's pale light
there we saw three or four towns-
men holding down a violently
struggHng man, whom they had
cut off and overpowered. Our
arrival was fortunate. The roughs
were determined to leave their
mark on somebody and had sent
one oftheir number to fmda brick-
bat with which to knock out our
comrade's front teeth, which he
wore temptingly white and pro-
minent. The tables were quickly
turned and, reinforced by the stroke
of his college eight, irate and
eager for vengeance, we worked
our way to the place where the
battle was sorest. All that hap-
pened that evening is forgotten
except that towards the end of the
fray a small party were driven
down New College Lane by an
outnumbering crowd. Slowly we
retired. Our knuckles were sore
and we were getting blown and
overpowered. But a powerful
relieving force was at hand. New
College gate was thrown open and
the good and gallant grey-haired
sub- warden, dear old J. A., with
his gown girt up tightly, charged
forth at the head of a force of
undergraduates, scouts and col-
lege servants. Straight into the
melcc J. A. hurled himself and
planted his own dignified fist on
the nose of one of our foes. The
fight was sharp for the short
minute that it lasted, but we had
now the advantage of the big
battalions. " And now gentlemen
you will go into college at once
and stay there." Indeed Buy Fml Forte we had
had enough of it for one night and
were only too glad to obey. It
was a sorry crew that met at a
breakfast party next morning.
Black eyes and aching bones were
our lot, but if memory does not
betray our appetites were as good
as ever.
Here we are at our old college.
The porter, though he is mature
in years and, like all porters, has a
tendency to embonpoint, is long
after our date. As old members
of the college we are received by
him with all courtesy and he
allows us to penetrate to his
sanctum, where we may see por-
traits of generations of porters
who have held the keys and have
been the most important of college
officials. Ah — there is the photo-
graph of our old contemporary.
How often he has pricked off our
attendance at chapel. How often,
oh how often, has he reported us
for knocking in after statutory
hours. Next to the Head, who
looked upon an undergraduate
rather as an elephant regards a
mouse, we in old times grovelled
before that benevolent old servant
and sought his favour.
The chapel— of course we must
look in at the chapel. No change
here at any rate. The beautiful
windows still throw their glowing
prismatic shadows on the floor.
The orderly stalls are ranged as
of yore, and, in these days of
advanced ritual it is a comfort to
see the plainly furnished space
within the rails without any of the
meretricious adjuncts that would
turn an honest communion table
into a ** would be if it could "
altar.
The cloisters are hard by the
chapel, an ideal promenade for
thoughtful and lettered age, but
they did not often tempt us to
their seclusion in our hot youth,
except at Commemoration time
when they gave an ideal oppor-
tunity for a solitude a deux with
some fair visitor to Alma Mater.
In those days Oxford was still
monastic in its ways and it was
only on rare occasions that the