"CHAFFING" A PROCTOR.
On the evening of Hook's arrival at the University, he contrived to give his brother the slip, and joined a party of old schoolfellows in a carouse at one of the taverns. Sundry bowls of "Bishop," and of a popular compound yclept "Egg-flip"—the Cambridge men call it "Silky," to the nondum graduati of Oxford it is known by a nomen accidentale which we have forgotten,—having been discussed; songs, amatory and Bacchanalian, having been sung with full choruses; and altogether the jocularity having begun to pass "the limit of becoming mirth," the Proctor made his appearance; and, advancing to the table at which the "Freshman"—fresh in every sense of the word—was presiding, put the usual question,—
"Pray, sir, are you a member of this University?"
"No, sir," replied Hook, rising and bowing respectfully. "Pray, sir, are you?"
A little disconcerted at the extreme gravity of the other, the Proctor held out his ample sleeve—"You see this, sir?"
"Ah," returned Hook, having examined the fabric with great earnestness for a few seconds, "yes; I perceive—Manchester velvet—and may I take the liberty, sir, of inquiring how much you might have paid per yard for the article?"
The quiet imperturbability of manner with which this was uttered was more than the Rev. gentleman could stand; and, muttering something about "supposing it was a mistake," he effected a retreat, amid shouts of laughter from Hook's companions, in which the other occupants of the coffee-room, the waiters, and even his own "bull-dogs" were constrained to join.—Barham.