punishment," continued Mr. Larkyns, whose inventive powers increased
with the demand that the freshman's gullibility imposed upon them, -
"it is just the same sort of thing that they do with the Greenwich
pensioners. When ~they~ have been trangressing the laws of sobriety,
you know, they are made marked men by having to wear a yellow coat as
a punishment; and our dons borrowed the idea, and made yellow tassels
the badges of intoxication. But for the credit of the University, I'm
glad to say that you'll not find many men so disgraced."

They now turned down the New Road, and came to a strongly castellated
building, which Mr. Larkyns pointed out (and truly) as Oxford Castle
or the Gaol; and he added (untruly), "if you hear Botany-Bay College*
spoken of, this is the place that's meant. It's a delicate way of
referring to the temporary sojourn that any undergrad has been forced
to make there, to say that he belongs to Botany-Bay College."

They now turned back, up Queen Street and High Street, when, as they
were passing All Saints, Mr. Larkyns pointed out a pale, intellectual
looking man who passed them, and said, "That man is Cram, the patent
safety. He's the first coach in Oxford."

"A coach!" said our freshman, in some wonder.

"Oh, I forgot you didn't know college-slang. I suppose a royal mail
is the only gentleman coach that ~you~ know of. Why, in Oxford, a
coach means a private tutor, you must know; and those who can't
afford a coach, get a cab, - ~alias~ a crib, - ~alias~ a translation.
You see, Verdant, you are gradually being initiated into Oxford
mysteries."