LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 192, 20 January 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE ST. SWITHIN’S JUNIOR PROCTOR. BY COMPTON READS, M.A. Chapter I. St. Swithin’s is a small and cozy college; small if you estimate size by number, cozy as regards its domestic arrangements. In respect of income, it has been by successive benefactions heavily endowed. Hence not only is its architecture gorgeously florid to the delight of photographers, but also its venerable buildings contain within their area a kitchen, presided over by a well-salaried artiste; a brewhouse, from whence issues nectar; a cellar, well stocked with vintage wines, which have never suffered sophistication at the hands of the wily wine merchant; a lofty hall, and a brace of common rooms. The institution, as a whole, is managed on the principle of a first-rate residentiary club; and if the junior members happen to be burdened by a few lectures per week, and by compulsory attendance at divine service, together with conformity to certain domiciliary regulations hardly irksome, they are compensated fully by possessing a home as nearly approaching the nature of an earthly paradise as is compatible with the total ex elusion of the peris. Let not the doctrinaire, however, sneer down St. Swithin’s as a fetid centre of useless luxury. The college from time immemorial, if it has dined more after the fashion of gentlemen than swine, in pleasing contrast to certain other institutions where the doctrinaire element ruled, has managed somehow to shine on the river, in the cricket field, and in the schools. St Swithin’s has been prolific in genius, has showed, moveover, a go jd average of talent; whilst its residuum of mediocrity has ever been cultivated and well-mannered, its downright stupidity rare. So far as regards the college. Now let us take a peep at the men of a date not more than half a century ago. Breakfast; a broiled sole, scrambled eggs, and a dish «f Oxford sausages. By the way, did you ever happen to eat those same saxieissons? If so, you will never again pollute your lips with the tasteless apologies which hail from the banks of sluggish Cam; experto crede. The first London restaurateur who has the pluck to establish Oxford sausages as an item of his menu will make his fortune. This by way of parenthesis. (Luncheon-bars, please note.) Discussing these homely delicacies sat two young gentlemen. Pompone, tall, handsome, heavy, with a black moustache of dimensions to destroy a Guardsman of envy. Temperly, fair, girlish, soft-eyed, without so much as a blade of down on his cheeks, yet withal rakish and mischievous-looking. Both were biting very hard indeed; whilst John Thomas the scout, who was in attendance (his name, for abbreviation’s sake, was commonly condensed into Jommas), sighed as his hopes of feeding a tribe of young Jommases on the remains of those same sausages vanished like the fabric of a vision. With the air of a disappointed man, the poor soul abruptly turned, and leaving the room, slammed the door savagely. ‘ Hie, Jommas !’ cried Mr Temperly, with his mouth full; ‘ J om-mas !’ But Jommas not replying, Mr Pompone dashed incontinently to the door, and, with a voice like an ophicleide, ejaculated : * Jo-hommas !’ This fetched the man back at a trot. He hated Mr Temperly, but he feared Mr Pompone. ‘ Yes, sir.’ ‘ O, Jommas,’ said Mr Temperly confidentialy, in a dulcet musical voice, * just go to the common room and get me a pint of moselle, and fill my cigar cafe with Bobos, and— ’ ‘ Haw,’ interrupted Mr Pompone majestically, ‘ Jommas. fetch me a long clay p’hipe, and, haw, a qu’haurt of sp’hiced beer; no, two qu’haurts; and look sharp—do you hear ?’ Whilst the faithful Jommas was absent to deport these luxurious necessaries from the junior common room, the college messenger entered with the morning’s letters. Each of our friends received a billet-doux bearing the same postmark, Leamington ; and, oddly enough, each upon hastily perusing his epistle exclaimed, after the manner of the ancients, ‘ By Jove !’ * Hey ?’ asked Mr Temperly. * Hey ?’ echoed Mr Pompone. ‘ Sweetest Lulu !’ rhapsodised Mr Temperly, affectionately embracing the little missive, and then from his heart transferring it to his nose, which, by the way, was rather retrousse than straight. * Sweetest Lulu ! Not of itself, but thee ! But I say, Pom, this is confounded awkward. They’re coming on Friday.’ ‘Haw, exactly. To-day’s Wednesday,’ oracularly responded Mr Pompone, patting his moustache.

‘ And we had arranged to go to town on Friday, you know,’ added Mr Temperly, pouting like a spoiled child. ‘ We’d b’hetter go to-morrow instead,’ remarked Mr Pompone, continuing to read his letter. Whereupon Mr Temperly began to think.

Whilst he is occupied in this to him unusual mental process, we will seize the golden opportunity of acquainting the courteous reader with the fact that Messrs Pompone and Temperly happened to be engaged

to two fair sisters ; whereof the elder, Dody, h i accepted Mr Pompone because he was h ir to a baronetcy and a fortune; the younger, Lulu, had hooked herself on to Mr Temperly, whose prospects were dubious, for the very schoolgirl reason because she had fallen head-over-ears in love with him. Per contra, whereas Mr Pompone was infatuated about Dody, who in her heart cherished a secret affection for an impossible and uncleanly music-master, Mr Temperly cared for Miss Lulu about as much or as little as he cared for his spaniel Fan, whom he would beat cruelly one moment and caress fondly the next.

From the above premises the reader can form his own conclusion as to the motives which induced Mr Pompone to be as reticent concerning the epistle he had received from Dody as his friend Mr Temperly was communicative about Lulu’s little love-letter, which was sweet and short in contrast to her sister’s, which being labored was long. At this juncture Jomxnas re-entered, having in his right hand a large silver tankard of spiced beer, in his right pocket a bottle of moselle, in his left pocket a tumbler, and in his left hand a corkscrew and Mr Tempering cigar-case. A man to utilise himself was Jommas.

Following in his immediate wake appeared a gentleman, bearing on his countenance a stereotyped and beaming grin, on his cheeks a pair of symmetrical ginger whiskers, and attached to his left eye a glass, which might have grown there, it seemed so fixed.

Need it be added that this was Mr Rapax, who, having by the aid of an ordinary eyeglass perceived that Moselle and spiced beer were journeying across the quadrangle in the direction of Mr Pompone’s hospitable quarters, followed the seductive fluids with a ze d that would brook no repulse. Mr Rapax may be met anywhere and everywhere. Thin, supple, and wiry, his constitution was capable of grappling with quantities of solids and fluids such as would have killed an ordinary organisation ; whilst as regards smoke, you could no more supply him with enough than a dozen Lascars can feed a hungry elephant, though they mow themselves into a fever.

Of course his advent precluded intimate confidences between our two friends. With the affiability and ease of his type he at once made himself at home. With the moselle he was so playful that J oinmas* had to be despatched for another pint ; to the cigars he took kindly but firmly ; whilst later on, he even went so far as to condescend to assist Pompone in dealing with the immense volume of fluid contained within the circumference of a two-quart college tankard ; an effort of politeness which perhaps did not raise him in the opinion of the expectant Jommas, who himself had a penchant for spiced beer about ten o’clock in the morning or thereabouts.

Mr Pompone having drank, warmed, heavily of course, but perceptibly. He stated authoritatively his intention of visiting the metropolis on the morrow. This, however, did not meet the notions of Mr Temperly, who happened to have other plans organised. ‘ Bother the petticoats!’ muttered that gentleman testily. ‘ I shall write' to Lulu, and tell them to put off their descent upon us till next week. ’

‘l’mbl’hessed if you do,’ rejoined Pompone ferociously, * I’m not going to have their proposal flung back in their face.’ ‘You’re confounded spoony,’sneered Mr Temperly. Now this remark would have ruffled a lesser being. Mr Pompone, however, piqued himself on his moral nature being mosquitoproof. Hence he at once acquiesced with, ‘Haw, perhaps so. One can’t breathe same a’hatmosphere with Dody without, haw, feeling, haw, hum— ’ *As if you wanted to kiss her,’ interposed Mr Temperly, grinning sarcastically enough. ‘Ki’hiss her? Exactly. Pass the beer, Rapax.’ There was a very ugly cloud gathering on the features of Mr Pompone; Mr Temperly’* quick instinct perceived it. ‘All right, old boy,’he cried, ‘you shall be humoured. I did want to have bowled against Exeter to-morrow; but never mind, we’ll go to town instead. First train—put on an ceger —cut chapel—and drop down by the 10.30 in the evening. Eh ?’ ‘ Good,’ replied Mr Pompone; and thereupon, solemnly putting on his gown, he strolled off towards the lecture-room of the senior tutor. • Chapter 11. On the morning following, just as the dean began in a semi-sleepy tone to address the undergraduates as ‘ Dearly beloved brethren’ from his stall in the college chapel, two young gentlemen emerged from the lodge gate, where stood in readiness for them a smart hansom cab with a long-legged horse of the Irish breed.

‘ Look alive, Pom !’ vociferated Mr Temperly to his friend, who had turned back to search for the college porter in the recesses of the lodge. 1 ‘ No letters for the next half-hour,’ replied that functionary in answer to the anxious query of Mr Pompone. In a trice the big dark man had leapt into the cab, endangering the springs, if there were any, and the fast horse was bowling away stationwards at a rate of fifteen miles an hour.

They caught the express by a couple of minutes, tipped the cabby for his admirable Jehuship, and with smiling faces were whisked off to the metropolis as fast as steam on the broad gauge could carry them; Mr Pompone having in his head a bright idea of purveying back from Covent-garden such a basketful of exotics and forced fruits as should astonish the Leamington young ladies on the morrow.

Leaving our travellers, we will retrace our steps to St. Swithin’s College, where the messenger is busy delivering letters, and the scouts are all of a clatter with tea, coffee, and grilled victuals. Mr Eapax, on this particular morning, did not happen to be asked anywhere to breakfast. Both on economical grounds and because he was gregarious in his tendencies, he entertained a rooted objection to eating at his own expense in his own room. He had therefore instructed his scout to take over his commons to the rooms of one Mr Bumpus, who, besides being of a devil-me-care disposition where expenditure was concerned, held the reputation of being one of the chief wags of the university. Mr Bumpus rose several inches above the height of a man, had quite double the volume of voice commonly bestowed upon the most virile of the species, with muscles to match, yet somehow there was a schoolboyish look and manner about him rather comical than not.

The moment Mr Rapax thrust his head in at the door Mr Rumpus seized him by either whisker, which, in spite of the other’s struggles, he pulled lik e bell-ropes, till the wretched man yelled for mercy. ‘ You thief, Rapax ! he exclaimed; ‘ I’m blest if you shall have a crumb of my breakfast !' ‘ Shan’t I ?’ replied Mr Rapax. smiling, in spite of his sore whiskers. * I’ll fight you for it.’ , , They were just about to begin a ferocious bear fight, when the college Mercury entering, handed Mr Rumpus a letter, the superscription whereof was in a lady’s hand, * Who’s that from ?’ asked Mr Rapax, sitting down and beginning to devour vigorously. * Only from one of my numerous wives. Stop, though; this is beyond a joke. Where are Pompone and Temperly ? Fact is’—this seriously—* there are some friends of theirs —hens, you know—coming up from Leamington to-day, and— ’ * Whew I’ whistled Mr Rapax. * That accounts for the milk in the cocoanut. Why, they’ve got a method in their madness. They’re in town by now, and out of harm’s way.’ ‘How, what, which?’ Explain. I don’t understand.’ * Simply this,’ replied Mr Rapax coolly. *1 was in Pom’s room yesterday morning, and they were discussing whether they should go up to town to-day or not. Pom was pro, Temperly con; Pom had his way, and they’re gone. That’s all.’ Mr Rumpus bit his lip. ‘ I call that cool he said. Look here. I happen to have the misfortune to be second cousin once removed or something of that sort, to a brace of doosid pretty girls. Not to be profane, I was rather smitten, bitten, bitten, or whatever you like, with the elder, Dody; but old Pom, with his corky moustache and precious swagger, made the running last Commemoration, and I am left out in the cold. Not that I grumble ; all’s fair in love. Rut 1 do think that if a man takes away a girl from another man —you understand me —the very least he can do is to stick to her, for she is sure to be spoilt for everybody else. Now, I’ve heard it whispered that old Pom is not as attentive as he might be ; and, by Jove, as if that wasn’t enough, he and Temperly invite these girls and their aged parent over here for the day, the girls accept the invitation, and then these two precious ■weeps slope, sir—simply slope—and leave me to do the entire hospitable trick. I say it’s mean. It’s —it’s—dashed if I know what it is r * Temperley,’ observed Mr Rapax, * didn’t want to go.’ ‘ Then,’ shouted the irate Mr Rumpus, ‘he might have stopped and done the civil. Upon my honor I never heard of such an nngentlemanly and amazing proceeding before. Hey, Rapax ?’ Rut Mr Rapax, having eaten his own breakfast, was now too busily engaged in ■wallowing that of Mr Rumpus to pay much attention to mere words. So Mr Rumpus continued meditatively. To be continued.