degree. Now make yourself scarce! You know where the door lies!"

Mr. Verdant Green was so confounded at this unusual reception that he
lost the power of motion and speech. But as Mr. Larkyns advanced towards
him in a threatening attitude, he managed to gasp out: "Why, Charles
Larkyns, don't you remember me, Verdant Green?"

"'Pon my word, old fellow," said his friend, "I thought you were a dun.
There are so many wretched tradesmen in this place who labour under the
impression that because a man buys a thing he means to pay for it, that
my life is mostly spent in dodging their messengers. Allow me," he
added, "to introduce you to Mr. Smalls. You will find him very useful in
helping you in your studies. He himself reads so hard that he is called
a fast man."

Mr. Smalls put down his pewter pot, and said that he had much pleasure
in forming the acquaintance of a freshman like Mr. Verdant Green; which
was undoubtedly true. And he then showed his absorbing interest in
literary studies by neglecting the society of Mr. Verdant Green and
immersing himself in the perusal of one of those vivid accounts of "a
rattling set-to between Nobby Buffer and Hammer Sykes" which make
"Bell's Life" the favourite reading of many Oxford scholars.

"I heard from my governor," said Mr. Larkyns, "that you were coming up,
and in the course of the morning I should have come to look you up. Have
a cigar, old chap?"

"Er--er--thank you very much," said Verdant, in a frightened way; "but I
have never smoked."