these pages of most perfect propriety.

The literature of ancient Greece and Rome was not even referred to;
and when Verdant, who, from the unusual com-


[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 73]

bination of the smoke and liquids, was beginning to feel extremely
amiable and talkative, - made a reflective observation (addressed to
the company generally) which sounded like the words "Nunc vino
pellite curas, Cras ingens,"* - he was immediately interrupted by the
voice of Mr. Bouncer, crying out, "Who's that talking shop about
engines? Holloa, Giglamps!" - Mr. Bouncer, it must be observed, had
facetiously adopted the ~sobriquet~ which had been bestowed on
Verdant and his spectacles on their first appearance
outside the Oxford coach, - "Holloa, Giglamps, is that you
ill-treating the dead languages? I'm ashamed of you! a venerable
party like you ought to be above such things. There! don't blush,
old feller, but give us a song! It's the punishment for talking shop,
you know."

There was an immediate hammering of tables and jingling of glasses,
accompanied with loud cries of "Mr. Green for a song! Mr. Green! Mr.
Giglamps' song!" cries which nearly brought our hero to the verge of
idiotcy.

Charles Larkyns saw this, and came to the rescue. "Gentlemen," he
said, addressing the company, "I know that my friend Verdant ~can~
sing, and that, like a good bird, he ~will~