found his master looking very red about the eyes, and furiously wiping
the large spectacles from which his nick-name, "Gig-lamps," was derived.

The fact was that Mr. Verdant Green was a freshman of the freshest kind.
It was his first day in Oxford. He had been brought up entirely by his
mother and a maiden aunt. Happily, Mr. Larkyns, the rector of Manor
Green, the charming Warwickshire village of which the Greens had been
squires from time immemorial, convinced his mother that Verdant needed
the society of young men of his own age. Mr. Larkyn's own son, a manly
young fellow named Charles, had already been sent up to Brazenface
College, where he was rapidly distinguishing himself; and after many
tears and arguments, Mrs. Green had consented to her boy also going up
to Oxford.

As we have said, Mr. Verdant Green felt very tearful and lonely as his
scout entered his rooms. But the appearance of Filcher reminded him that
he was now an Oxford man, and he resolved to begin his career by calling
upon Mr. Charles Larkyns.

He found Mr. Larkyns lolling on a couch, in dressing-gown and slippers.
Opposite to him was a gentleman whose face was partly hidden by a pewter
pot, out of which he was draining the last draught. Mr. Larkyns turned
his head, and saw dimly through the clouds of tobacco smoke that filled
his room a tall, thin, spectacled figure, with a hat in one hand, and an
envelope in the other.

"It's no use," he said, "stealing a march on me in this way. I don't owe
you anything; and if I did it is not convenient to pay it. Hang you
Oxford tradesmen! You really make a man thoroughly bill-ious. Tell your
master that I can't get any money out of my governor till I've got my