cessity of rejecting you. I should
advise you to read hard for another twelve months, and try to master
those subjects in which you have now failed."

Disregarding poor Mr. Pucker's entreaties to matriculate him this once
for the sake of his mother, when he would read very hard--indeed he
would--Mr. Fosbrooke turned to Mr. Bouncer and gave him some private
instructions, and Mr. Verdant Green immediately disappeared in search of
his scout, Filcher. Five minutes afterwards, as the dejected Mr. Pucker
was crawling out of the quad, Filcher came and led him back to the rooms
of Mr. Slowcoach, the real examining tutor.

"But I have been examined," Mr. Pucker kept on saying dejectedly. "I
have been examined, and they rejected me."

"I think it was an 'oax, sir," said Filcher.

"A what!" stammered Mr. Pucker.

"A 'oax--a sell," said the scout. "Those two gents has been 'aving a
little game with you, sir. They often does it with fresh parties like
you, sir, that seem fresh and hinnocent like."

Mr. Pucker was immensely relieved at this news, and at once went to Mr.
Slowcoach, who, after an examination of twenty minutes, passed him. But
Filcher was alarmed at the joyful way in which he rushed out of the
tutor's room.

"You didn't tell 'im about the 'oax, sir, did yer?" asked the scout
anxiously.

"Not a word," said the radiant Mr. Pucker.

"Then you're a trump, sir!" said Filcher. "And Mr. Verdant Green's
compliments to yer, sir, and will you come up to his rooms and take a
glass of wine with him, sir?"

It need hardly be said that the blushing Mr. Pucker passed a very
pleasant evening with his new friends, and that Mr. Verdant Green was
very proud of having got so far out of the freshman's stage of existence
as to take part in one of the most successful hoaxes in the history of
Oxford.

_III.--Town and Gown_

Mr. Verdant Green, Mr. Charles Larkyns, and a throng of their
acquaintances were sitting in Mr. Bouncer's rooms, on the evening of
November 5, when a knock at the oak was heard; and as Mr. Bouncer roared
out, "Come in!" the knocker entered. Opening the door, and striking into
an attitude, he exclaimed in a theatrical tone and manner:

"Scene, Mr. Bouncer's rooms in Brazenface; in the centre a table, at
which a party are drinking log-juice, and smoking cabbage leaves. Door,
left, third entrance. Enter the Putney Pet. Slow music; lights half
down."

Even Mr. Verdant Green did not require to be told the