The Argosy — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

Our First Ternt at Oxford. 4! Il. “ WILL you go up the river for a row, Johnny?” “*T don’t mind if I do.” The questioner was Bill Whitney ; who had come in to look for Tod. I had nothing particular on hand that afternoon, and the skies were blue and the sun golden. So we went down to the river together. ‘Where has Tod got to?” he asked. . “Goodness knows. I’ve not seen him since lecture this morning.” We rowed up to Godstowe. Bill disappeared with some friend of his from Merton’s, who had watched us put in. I strolled about. Every- body knows the dark pool of water there. On the bench under the foliage there, so thick in summer, but bare yet in this early season, warm and sunny though it was, sat a man wrapped in a greatcoat, whom I took at first to be a skeleton with painted cheeks. But one does not care to stare at skeletons, knowing they’d help their looks if they could; and I was passing him with my face turned the other way. ‘* Good afternoon, sir.” I turned at the hollow words—hollow in sound as though they came out of adrum. It was Charley: the red paint on his thin cheeks was nothing but natural hectic, and the blue of his eyes shone painfully bright. “Why, what's the matter, Charley ? ” ‘‘ A fly-man, who had to drive here and back, brought me with him for a mouthful of fresh air, it being so warm and bright. It is the first time I have been able to get out, sir.” “You are poorly, Charley.” I had all but said “dying.” But one can but be complimentary to a poor fellow in that condition. Very ill I have been, sir; but I’m better. At one time I never thought I should get up again. It’s this beautiful warm weather coming in so early that has restored me.” “‘T don’t know about restored ? You don’t look great things yet.” ‘You should have seen me a short while ago, sir! I’m getting on.” Lying by his side, on a piece of paper, was a thick slice, doubled, of bread-and-butter, that he must have brought with him. He broke a piece off, and ate it. “ You look hungry, Charley.” ‘That’s the worst of it, sir; I’m always hungry,” he answered, and his tone from its eagerness was quite painful to hear, and his eyes grew moist, and the hectic spread on his cheeks. ‘It is the nature of the complaint, I’m told: and poor mother was the same. I could be eating and drinking every hour, sir, and hardly be satisfied.” ‘** Come along to the inn, and have some tea.” & ECOMicoOOkKS.CoOm