t dumb, but lacking a mutual friend to give them an introduction;
their regard for decorum and etiquette was too great to permit them to
speak otherwise than with their eyes. Millington had kept three terms,
when I arrived at ---- College, a shy and gawky freshman; we had been
previously acquainted, and he, pitying perhaps my youth and
inexperience, patronized his playmate, and I became his chum. For some
time I was at a loss to account for sundry fluctuations in Henry's
disposition and manners. He shunned society and would neither accept
invitations to wine and supper parties in other men's rooms, nor give
such in his own; nevertheless his person seemed to have become an
object of the tenderest regard; never was he so contented as when
rambling through the streets and walks, without his gown, in a new and
well cut suit; whilst in order eternally to display his figure to the
best advantage, he was content to endure as heavy an infliction of
fines and impositions, as the heads of his college could lay upon his
shoulders. He was ruined for a reading-man. About this period he also
had a perfect mania for flowers; observing which, and fancying I might
gratify my friend by such a mark of attention, I one day went to his
rooms with a large bouquet in either hand. He was not at home; but
having carelessly enough forgotten to lock his door, I commenced, _con
amore_, (anticipating the agreeable surprise which I should afford
him) to fill his vases with fresh, bright, and delicious summer
flowers, in lieu of the very mummies of their race by which they were
occupied. My work was in progress when Millington returned, but, oh!
good heavens! the rage, the profane, diabolical, incomprehensible rage
into which he burst! I shall never forget. Away went my beautiful, my
fragrant flowers, into the court, and seizing upon the remnant of the
mummies, as yet untouched by my sacrilegious fingers, he tossed them
into a drawer, double locked it, and ordered me out of the room.
Dreading a kick, I was off at his word; but had not proceeded half way
down stairs, when a hand from the rear, roughly grasped mine, and a
voice, in a wild and hurried manner, asked pardon for "intemperance."
I should have called it madness. We were again firm allies; but I
resolved to fathom, if possible, the mystery of the flowers. I now
observed, with surprise, that Millington never quitted his rooms
without a flower in his hand, or _boutonniere_; which flower, upon his