"I should like a dog," said Verdant; "but where could I keep one?"

"Oh, anywhere!" replied Mr. Bouncer confidently. "I keep these
beggars in the little shop for coal, just outside the door. It ain't
the law, I know; but what's the odds as long as they're happy?
~They~ think it no end of a lark. I once had a Newfunland, and tried
~him~ there; but the obstinate brute considered it too small for him,
and barked himself in such an unnatural manner, that at last he'd got
no wool on the top of his head, - just the place where the wool ought
to grow, you know; so I swopped the beggar to a Skimmery* man for a
regular slap-up set of pets of the ballet, framed and glazed,
petticoats and all, mind you. But about your dog, Giglamps: -that
cupboard there would be just the ticket; you could put him under the
wine-bottles, and then there'd be wine above and whine below.
~Videsne puer~? D'ye twig, young 'un? But if you're squeamish about
that, there are heaps of places in the town where you could keep a
beast."

So, when our hero had been persuaded that the possession of an animal
of the terrier species was absolutely necessary to a University man's
existence, he had not to look about long without having the void
filled up. Money will in most places procure any thing, from a grant
of arms to a pair of wooden legs; so it is not surprising if, in
Oxford, such an every-day commodity as a dog can be obtained through
the medium of "filthy lucre;" for there was a well-known dog-fancier
and proprietor, whose surname was that of the rich substantive just
mentioned, to which had been prefixed the "filthy" adjective,
probably for the sake of euphony. As usual, Filthy Lucre was
clumping with his lame leg up and down the pavement just in front of
the Brazenface gate, accompanied by his last "new and extensive