Little Mr Bouncer and His Friend Verdant Green/Chapter 15
CHAPTER XV.
LITTLE MR. BOUNCER LEAVES OXFORD IN COMPANY WITH MR. SMALLS.
ITTLE Mr. Bouncer and Mr. Smalls, having no very tedious railway journey before them, did not leave Oxford until the afternoon of the day on which Verdant Green and Mr. Four-in-hand Fosbrooke had quitted the City of Colleges on the top of the Warwickshire coach. By luncheon time, the University had lost the larger portion of its and Oxford tradesmen members would be compelled to wait three months for the return of their best customers. This is a serious item in connection with the much-abused credit system, that must be considered whenever any so-called overcharges of Oxford tradesmen are questioned by a Paterfamilias. People must needs make hay while the sun shines; and if the sun is under a cloud for a quarter of the year, it is clear that no hay can be made during that space of time. And, indeed Oxford tradesmen might make a pithy proverb to suit their own case:—
With sons away,
We can't make hay,
and, therefore, it behoves them to turn the sons to as much account as possible during Term time, with the hope that the sons' parents and governors will not, in the Long Vacation, or whenever the bills are presented, repudiate their liabilities, and set up the preposterous plea of infancy.
In accepting the invitation to go down with Mr. Smalls for a day or two in the country, little Mr. Bouncer experienced a difficulty with regard to the disposal of Huz and Buz. He scarcely liked to leave them in the coal-cellar outside his room-door at Brazenface, there to be fitfully attended to, or wholly neglected, by Mrs. Tester and Mr. Robert Filcher; and he did not wish to be temporarily separated from them, even if they were placed in Tollitt's stables, or confided to the care of Mr. Charley Symonds. But when he mentioned his hesitation to Mr. Smalls, that gentleman at once solved the difficulty by extending his invitation to Huz and Buz, and promising that they should be heartily welcomed at his father's house during the time of their master's visit. Mr. Bouncer was, therefore, made easy in his mind on this, to him, important subject. Not that Huz and Buz were personages to be dealt with easily in their transit from place to place; and at the Oxford railway station they rendered themselves especially obnoxious and disagreeable—now, frightening timid ladies by their loud barkings and profuse display of teeth; and then making wild rushes at the tempting calves of little children and old gentlemen. They were far too noisy and obtrusive to enable Mr. Bouncer to smuggle them into his own carriage; and the guard, being proof against bribes, insisted on their being placed in a locker in the luggage van. Then followed an agitating scene with a large but loose-limbed porter, who essayed to gain the confidence of the two bull-terriers, and failed to find them reciprocate his attentions. After all, their master had to summarily and roughly thrust them into the locker at the very last moment before the starting of the train; for Huz and Buz set at defiance and kept at bay both porters and guards.
In that dark age, a smoking compartment was an unknown luxury on railway lines; but as there were several Oxford men who were going down by that train, they secured a carriage to themselves, where they could blow a cloud to their hearts' content; and, of course, Mr. Smalls and little Mr. Bouncer were two of the passengers in that particular carriage. In the train, too, were several young ladies with their mothers and chaperones, who were on their way back home from the Commemoration, in company with elderly dons, younger tutors and fellows, and brotherly or cousinly undergraduates. Thus the University was largely represented, and contributed an unusual number of passengers to the train. It slid out of the station; and in another half-hour Oxford had been lost to sight, and its familiar aspect and well-known spires and towers could only be viewed in dreams or memory.
The railway journey of little Mr. Bouncer and Mr. Smalls was terminated at the Poynton Station, where they bade adieu to their undergraduate companions, and released Huz and Buz from their temporary imprisonment in the locker. The two travellers had between them an abundance of luggage; for their impedimenta—exclusive of Huz and Buz—included a weighty box of
books, which Mr. Smalls made it a point of honour to carry down with him at the end of the June Term, alleging that he intended "to read hard for his Little-go during the Long;" though it is to be feared that his virtuous intentions in this respect were not destined to be carried into effect, and that the box of books would remain unopened until it was taken back to Oxford in the ensuing October. There was a horse and cart for the luggage; and there was a mail phaeton and pair for the two travellers. Mr. Smalls lighted a fresh cigar, and took the reins; Mr. Bouncer occupied the place beside him with Huz and Buz on the driving-apron at his feet; the coachman jumped up behind; and away they drove from the Poynton Station.
It was six miles to the Woodlands—which was the name of the house where lived Mr. Smalls' father; and it was a very pleasant drive through a richly timbered country, whose wealth of greenery was irradiated by a June sun that was flooding the western sky with a sea of gold. The quick-stepping horses took them along at a rapid pace, along dusty turnpike roads, and down shady tree-arched lanes, until they brought them to a little village, with a scattered group of cottages and farm houses, a smithy, a public-house, a rectory, a new school, an old church, and a large house in a small park, with a tiny lodge at the gate near to the village school.
"Here we are at the Woodlands!" said Mr. Smalls, as he reined up the horses at this little lodge, and returned the greeting of the woman who opened the gate.
"What a pity that I put my post-horn in my portmanteau!" said little Mr. Bouncer. "I generally carry it loose with walking-sticks, umbrellas, fishing-rods, and that sort of gear. If I had it out I could have given a tantivity to signal our approach. 'Hark! 'tis the twanging horn from yonder bridge! he comes, the herald of a noisy world!' and all that sort of thing. Perhaps if I pinched Huz and Buz's tails and made them bark that would help us a bit. Or, as your shop is called the Woodlands, we might sing in chorus, 'Haste to the
woodlands, haste away! Lads and lasses, all so gay!' Whichever you choose, my little dears; we are in no ways pertickler, especially when you pays your money, wipes your innocent noses, and don't breathe on the glasses."
But although Mr. Smalls did not, like the Irish postilion, reserve a canter for the avenue, but drove up it at a moderate pace, they had arrived at the hall door of the Woodlands before little Mr. Bouncer had decided to carry into effect any of the propositions that he had just made to his friend. Yet he realized the fact that he had left Oxford and Brazenface behind him, and that he had entered upon the three months' enjoyments of the Long Vacation. During the pleasant time of that long summer holiday, he hoped to be able to entertain his friend Verdant Green at his own home in Herefordshire.