[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 75]

song, but only appreciates the chorus)~ - "That'll do, old feller! We
aint pertickler,-(~rushes with great deliberation and noise to the
chorus~) "That you lo-oved me sti-ill the sa-ha-hame - chorus,
gentlemen!"

~Omnes (in various keys and time)~. "That you lo-oved me sti-ill the
same."

~Mr. Bouncer (to Mr. Green, alluding remotely to the opera)~. "Now
my Bohemian gal, can't you come out to-night? Spit us out a yard or
two more, Giglamps."

~Mr. Verdant Green (who has again taken the opportunity to clear his
throat)~. "I dreamt that I dwe-elt in mar-arble- no! I beg pardon!
sang that (~desperately~) - that sui-uitors sou-ught my hand, that
knights on their (~hic~) ben-ended kne-e-ee - had (~hic~) riches too
gre-eat to" - (~Mr. Verdant Green smiles benignantly upon the
company~) - "Don't rec'lect anymo."

~Mr. Bouncer (who is not to be defrauded of the chorus)~. "Chorus,
gentlemen! - That you'll lo-ove me sti-ill the sa-a-hame!"

~Omnes (ad libitum)~. "That you'll lo-ove me sti-ill the same!"

Though our hero had ceased to sing, he was still continuing to clear
his throat by the aid of the milk-punch, and was again industriously
sucking his cigar, which he had not yet succeeded in getting half
through, although he had re-lighted it about twenty times. All this