Mr. Verdant Green having "swallowed" this, his friend was thereby
enabled, not only to use up old "sells," but also to draw largely on
his invention for new ones. Just then, there came along the street,
walking in a sort of young procession, - the Vice-Chancellor, with his
Esquire and Yeoman-bedels. The silver maces, carried by these latter
gentlemen, made them by far the most showy part of the procession,
and accordingly Mr. Larkyns seized the favourable opportunity to
point out the foremost bedel, and say, "You see that man with the
poker and loose cap? Well, that's the Vice-Chancellor."


"But what does he walk in procession for?" inquired our freshman.

"Ah, poor man!" said Mr. Larkyns, "he's obliged to do it." 'Uneasy
lies the head that wears a crown,' you know; and he can never go
anywhere, or do anything, without carrying that poker, and having the
other minor pokers to follow him. They never leave him, not even at
night. Two of the pokers stand on each side his bed, and relieve
each other every two hours. So, I need hardly say, that he is obliged
to be a bachelor."

"It must be a very wearisome office," remarked our freshman, who
fully believed all that was told to him.

"Wearisome, indeed; and that's the reason why they are obliged to
change the Vice-Chancellors so often. It would


[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 67]