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 the Daily 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’s known 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; the old 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,’ said Freddy, 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 Beresford mockingly, ‘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 in with 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 himself he 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 afterwards all 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 of support 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 Great Trafalgar 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 had had 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.

The subsequent adventures of the party were too varied to be described in full, with the exception of Fatty, whom we sent straight back to the hotel in a hansom, and who was discovered by the charwoman at 6.30 asleep under the billiard table.

The party that breakfasted at the Great Trafalgar next morning about lunch-time was reduced in number and unusually thoughtful; the latter, partly because it is extremely difficult to raise money in London on Sunday, and partly owing to the frequent lubrication on the previous evening. Freddy had already left by the Holyhead express for Coffington Castle, Co. Down. In the brief message left with the night porter for Squiff, he explained that he had been to see the sunrise from Notting Hill, and had only just had time to fetch his luggage. Von Graussman and de Beresford, who had slept in an hotel in New Oxford Street, left by the Pullman train at 11.0 for Brighton to recruit, as they said they had both had too much pastry the night before. All traces had been entirely lost of Blandford; it is only known that he arrived home three days later with a broken bowler and a couple of ladies’ cloak-room tickets, and went to bed for several days. The rest of us returned to Oxford to pack and go through Vivas. I think I endorse the opinion of Fatty, who afterwards remarked that ‘The wicked flourish like a green bay tree, though they much prefer the dew of Glenlivet to that of Hermon.’

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