But at that time I didn't trouble my head to inquire about PETER's
father, and was content as most Undergraduates are, to take my friends
as I thought I found them. PETER was musical; he played several
instruments with skill, and sang a capital song. With all these
qualities, he soon became, to a certain extent, popular. He then set
up as a giver of good and expensive dinners, kept a couple of horses
in the hunting season, devoted great attention to his dress, and made
himself unobtrusively agreeable to the little gods of our miniature
world. In his second year he had gained a position; most people spoke
well of him, and liked him. It only rested with PETER himself to
maintain what he had gained, and to enter on life with troops of
friends. A few moments of purposeless folly were sufficient to shatter
him.

I remember that in my first term I was not very agreeably impressed
by something that PETER did. A dog-fancier happened to come through
the street in which we both lodged, and PETER began to bargain with
him for a fox-terrier, who, according to the fancier's account, had
a pedigree as long and as illustrious as that of a Norman Peer.
Eventually it had been agreed that the dog was to become PETER's
property in consideration of thirty shillings in cash, a pair of
trousers, and a bottle of brandy. The exchange was made, and the man
departed. Thereupon PETER informed me with glee, that the trousers
were a pair of his father's, which had been packed in his portmanteau
by mistake, and that the brandy-bottle contained about fifty per cent.
of water, that amount of brandy having been poured off before payment
was made. As PETER put it, "I've done him in the eye, to prevent him
doing me." I tried in vain to bring him round to the opinion that (let
alone robbing one's father) cheating a cheat was one of the lowest
forms of roguery. The dog-fancier soon afterwards returned, and