plain of you, and have you fined five shillings, as a warning for the future!"
"Ugh!" was all that old Mr. Wylde ventured to growl in reply: and, seeing his son pursuing his way to Wilton Crescent, he strode in the opposite direction, down Piccadilly, surrounded by the Chorus of small boys, singing "Pop goes the Weasel," turning head over heels, and making the most liberal offers to do "four wheels a ha'penny" for Mr. Wylde's instruction and amusement: offers which were not received by that gentleman with the same liberal spirit in which they were made.
CHAPTER III.
THE SICK MAN ON HIS ROAD TO THE DOCTOR.
Mr. Percial Wylde experienced otherwise than agreeable feelings when his father made his declaration of visiting Oxford; and he was too well acquainted with the paternal mode of decision to doubt that his father would practise what he preached. He knew very well that the Old Boy would at once take the rail to Oxford, and, on there being fully certified as to the imposition practised upon him, would probably cut off the pecuniary supplies from his hopeful son, even if he did not proceed to the extremity of "cutting him off with less than a shilling."
Now, as this proceeding, even in its mildest form, would be anything but agreeable to a young gentleman who had freely plunged into the most expensive habits of a University career, the thought of its being carried
