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CHAPTER III.

LITTLE MR. BOUNCER TAKES MEASURES TO BEFRIEND MR. VERDANT GREEN.

ECOVERING somewhat from the prostration of that "blue funk" with which, according to little Mr. Bouncer, Mr. Verdant Green appeared to be overcome, the Oxford Freshman resumed his explanation, mingled with an apology for the conduct both of himself and Mr. Blucher Boots.

"He only borrowed those three five-pound notes: they were not for himself, you must understand; but were for my own Derby book, and were to be used in bets on my behalf. Blucher Boots said that he was quite sure of winning. He had calculated the odds according to mathematical rules; and, whether The Knight won or lost, he himself would be a winner, and, of course, I should go shares with him. And, it seemed to be such a good chance of gaining twenty or thirty pounds, which, he said, would be the very least that I should receive—although there was every probability that I should win as much as seventy or eighty pounds if The Knight came in first, which Blucher Boots said he would be sure to do—that," continued Mr. Verdant Green, somewhat incoherently, "I saw it ​was such a good opportunity—and the money would have been so nice—and I could have bought such handsome presents to take home to my sisters—and, you must remember, that I had all the benefits of Blucher Boots' superior knowledge—and he is Lord Balmoral's son, you know—and he said something about my being just the sort of man that his father would like to be introduced to—and he hinted at my coming to see them at Wellington House in the Long Vacation—and he seemed so civil and friendly—and it is for me that he is investing the fifteen pounds, and not for himself, you understand"—

"Oh! I understand perfectly," said little Mr. Bouncer, cutting his friend short; "and Blucher Boots shall find it another pair of shoes before I 've done with him. Oh, Giglamps! what would your respected parients say, if they knew that you 'd made a book on the Derby, and been and gone and done it after this fashion? Your Governor don't bet on races, does he?"

"Oh, no! I'm sure he does not!" responded Mr. Verdant Green, heartily, as his thoughts fled back to his home at the Manor Green, Warwickshire, and pictured the form of his father, sitting tranquilly, after breakfast, and reading his letters and morning news paper in slippered ease.

"And," continued little Mr. Bouncer, assuming the air of a Mentor, "I 'm equally sure that he would n't like his only son and heir to do so."

"I 'm quite sure about that," said Verdant, confidently; "and I 'm very sorry now that I have given away those three five-pound notes, and have been induced to make bets on The Knight. And the fact is, that it is fretting me very much."

​"Well, don't fret yourself into fiddle-strings, old fellow! "said little Mr. Bouncer, encouragingly; "that won't mend matters. I 'll see what can be done to pull you out of the mire. You trust to your faithful Bouncer to get you out of the pickle, if it can anyhow be managed."

"Perhaps I had better go to Blucher Boots, and see what can be done?" timidly suggested Mr. Verdant Green.

"Perhaps you had better do nothing of the sort," promptly rejoined Mr. Bouncer. "If you open your mouth, you are sure to put your foot into it. No, my tulip! you leave it to yours truly; and I 'll do my possibles, as the Parley-voos say, to act as your confidential agent and go-between in setting matters straight. But, I tell you plainly, Giglamps, if this sort of thing goes on, it can only end in one way."

"What way?" asked Verdant, anxiously.

"Why, this way! you 'll run a fearful mucker," replied Mr. Bouncer, seritentiously. "Come along, Huz and Buz, and I 'll shut you up in the little shop for coal, while I go and see Blucher Boots. Ta, ta! Giglamps! Keep up your pecker." And little Mr. Bouncer took himself, and his dogs, and his post-horn, out of the room, with no small noise from his canine pets, and ​with a piercing fanfare from his unmusical instrument, which was heard sounding octaves all down the staircase, and out into the quad.

Left to his solitude, Mr. Verdant Green made himself a very strong cup of tea—an accomplishment in which he was now tolerably perfect, thanks to the lessons in the science that he had received from his old bedmaker, Mrs. Tester; and as he sat over the steaming beverage, it painfully occurred to him that he also, like his tea, was, metaphorically, in a stew and in hot water. He did not attach any very definite meanings to those two phrases of little Mr. Bouncer, which had reference to his being in "a blue funk," and hinted at the probability of his "running a fearful mucker;" but although he was unable to grasp the full signification of the Oriental imagery of his friend's expressions, yet, undoubtedly, they sounded far from reassuring, and did not tend to add to his comfort. Nor did he feel any happier when he conjured up a gloomy series of mental pictures, which passed before his mind's eye in fantastic phantasmagorias, and showed him what the inhabitants of the Manor Green would think, and feel, and say, and do, if they only knew the course that the hope of their house was pursuing; and that, in his Freshman's term, he had already begun to bet on horse-races and make a book on the Derby. What would his father say to those three five-pound notes being handed over to the custody of Mr. Blucher Boots? What would his good mother think of his backing a dark horse—supposing that she could understand such a phrase? Would his sisters be disposed to exculpate his conduct, in consideration that it had made him the friend of a nobleman's son, with a possible introduction to Wellington ​House? And would his aunt, Miss Virginia Verdant, be able to comprehend the darkness of the case when she was told the startling intelligence that her nephew had "joined in a sweep"?

Alas, that sweep! it was an

atra cura

to Mr. Verdant Green—a black care that rode behind the horseman and crouched astern the jockey on the crupper of "The Knight." He began to feel that he was indeed beginning to run that fearful mucker of which Mr. Bouncer had spoken; and he knew that such a race would be one that would be all downhill in facile descent to Avernus, and to a precipice of danger and disgrace. Who should tell to what conclusion his book on the Derby would lead, and what would be its Finis? Could he look with pleasure to the last page of its third volume, or anticipate its end with satisfaction? Better to shut up its pages, and to fling the book into the fire, lest his own fingers and pockets should be burnt!

As such reflections coursed through his mind, he felt as miserable as he did when, not many weeks before, he had sat by his window, after his father had left him, while the strains of "Home, Sweet Home," from a German band playing just outside the college gates, were borne to his ears, and reduced him to a melting mood; so that, when Mr. Robert Filcher came into the room, he found his new master busily engaged in wiping his spectacles. Although it could not be affirmed on the present occasion that when the scout returned to take away the breakfast things, he discovered Mr. Verdant Green in the act of removing tears from his glasses, yet ​that gentleman's eyes certainly seemed to be somewhat moist, and, altogether, he looked like a knight of the rueful countenance. But, as yet, he was only a Freshman; and he had many things to learn, not only in a pleasant Oxford college, but also in the stern school of Experience, whose discipline, though hard, is salutary.

Meanwhile, little Mr. Bouncer was as good as his word, and at once took active measures to extricate his friend from the pitfall into which he had been lured by one who had proved himself to be too astute and cunning for the simple nature of the other who had so readily fallen into his toils. Placing Huz and Buz in the coal cupboard just outside his door, and giving them, for their amusement, an old Wellington boot, out of which, during his absence, they could hunt imaginary rats, Mr. Bouncer put up his post-horn, and thrust his arms into that ragged and scanty garment, furnished with a lappet and two streamers, which the little gentleman called his "tail-curtain," but which the academical authorities would have termed his undergraduate's gown. It was needful for him to assume this elegant costume as he had to leave Brazenface and walk up the High Street before he could reach the particular college which Lord Balmoral's son honoured with his

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presence; and, as the time had not yet reached the afternoon's hours, when caps and gowns might be dispensed with in public—the members of the various Colleges being then supposed to be leaving the city for a country walk, or for the river and cricket-field and other sports—including the hunting of rats and the shooting of pigeons and rabbits—Mr. Bouncer was compelled, through fear of being proctorised, to "sport a tail-curtain." If it did not improve his appearance, that was not his fault, but was a matter for the rulers of the University to rescind their statute "

De Vestitu

."

In less than half an hour after he had left Mr. Verdant Green's rooms, little Mr. Bouncer was knocking at a certain door on a particular staircase, where, as he had ascertained from the porter at the lodge of the College, the person of whom he was in quest "hung out;" so, at least, Mr. Bouncer phrased Mr. Blucher Boots' tenancy of the rooms in question.

"If he thinks it 's the woodpecker tapping, he 'll be slightly deceived," said Mr. Bouncer to himself.

"Come in!" was shouted from withinside the room; and Mr. Bouncer went in.