The Argosy — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Our First Term at Oxford. 33 * See, I have set before you this day life and good, and death and evil: thercfore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.” “* That's what I have been striving to set before you, Johnny Ludiow. Read that chapter, the whole of it, often ; treasure its precepts in your heart ; and may God give you grace to keep them!” He shook hands with me in silence. I took up my candle and waited a moment, for I thought he was going to speak again. “Will you try to keep them, lad ?” “T will try, sir.” We were fortunate in getting good rooms at Christchurch. Tod’s and mine were close together ; Bill Whitney’s on the floor above. Our sitting-room was pleasant; it had an old cracked piano in it, which turned out to be passably fair when it had been tinkered and tuned. The windows looked out on the trees of the Broad Walk and to the meadows beyond: but trees are bare in winter, and the month was January. I had never stayed at Oxford before : and I saw that I should like it, with its fine, grand old colleges. The day after we got there, Saturday, we wrote our names in the Dean’s book, and saw our tutor. The rest of the day was spent in seeing about battels and getting into the new ways. Very new to us. A civil young fellow, who waited on us as scout, was useful; they called him ‘“‘ Charley” in the college. Tod pulled a long face at some of the rules, and did not like the prospect of unlimited work. “‘ Y’ll go in for the boating and fishing and driving, Johnny ; and you can go in for the books.” ‘All right, Tod.” I knew what he meant. It was not that he did not intend to take a fair amount of work : but to exist without a good ‘share of out-of-door life also, would have been hard lines for Tod. The Sunday services were beautiful. The first Sunday of term was a high day, and the cathedral was filled. Orders of admission to the public were not necessary that day, and a general congregation mixed with the students. Sir John and the Squire were staying at the Mitre till Monday. After service we went to promenade in the Broad Walk —and it seemed that everybody else went. ** Look there!” cried the Squire, “at this tall clergyman coming along. Iam sure he is one of the canons of Worcester.” It was Mr. Fortescue—Honourable and Reverend. He halted for a minute to exchange greetings with Sir John Whitney, whom he knew, and then passed on his ‘way. “‘ There’s some pretty girls about, too,” resumed the Squire, gazing around. “Not that I’d advise you boys to look much at them. Wonder if they often walk here? ” Before a week had gone by, we were quite at home; had shaken down into our new life as passengers shake down in their-places,'in an omnibus ; and made lots of friends. ‘Some I liked; some I didn. S) (GO) VOL. XY. D