The Argosy — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

46 Our First Term at Oxford. ‘* Very good,” said he blandly ; “ you can tell that to-morrow to the Dean. Home at once to your quarters now, if you please, Mr. Ludlow.” And I knew he believed me just as much as he would had I told him I’d been up in a balloon. “You are a nice lot, Master Johnny !” The salutation was Tod’s. He and Bill Whitney were sitting over the fire in our room. ‘€ T couldn’t help being late.” “ Of course not! As to late—it’s only midnight. Next time you'll come 1n with the milk.” “Don’t jest. I’ve been with that poor Charley, and I think he’s dying. The worst of it is, the proctor has just dropped upon me.” “No!” It sobered them both, and they put aside their mockery. Bill, who had the tongs in his hand, let them go down with a crash. ‘‘Tt’s a thousand pities, Johnny. Not one of us has been before the Dean yet.” “‘T can only tell the Dean the truth.” ‘‘ Asif he’d believe you! By Jupiter! Once get one of our names up, and those proctors will track every step of the ground we tread on. They watch a marked man as a starving cat watches a mouse.” With the morning came in the requisition for me to attend before the Dean. When I got there, who should be stealing out of the room quite sheepishly, his face down and his ears red, but Gaiton. Ts it your turn, Ludlow !” he cried, closing the room door as softly as though the Dean had been asleep inside. ‘What have you been had up for, Gaiton ?” ) ‘Qh, nothing. I got knocking about a bit last night, for Mrs. Ev erty did not receive, and came across that confounded proctor.” ‘Ts the Dean in a hard humour?” ‘“‘ Hard enough, and be hanged to him! It’s not the Dean: he’s ill, - or something ; perhaps been making a night of it himself: and Apple- rigg’s on duty for him. Dry old scarecrow! For two pins, Ludlow, I’d take my name off the books, and be shut of the lot.” Dr. Applerigg had the reputation of being one of the strictest of | college dons. He was like a maypole, just as tall and thin, with a long, *e sallow face, and enough learning to set up the reputations of three archbishops for life. The Doctor was marching up and down the room in his college cap, and turned his spectacles on me. ‘¢ Shut the door, sir.” While I did as I was bid, he sat down at an open desk near the fire and looked at a paper that had some writing on it. ‘What age may you be, Mr. Ludlow?” he sternly asked, when a question or two had passed. And I told him my age. “Qh! And don’t you think it a very disreputable thing.) ? gerabc. co