The wind-up of the term rendered it essentially necessary that I should return to Oxford with all possible expedition, as my absence at such a time, if discovered, might involve me in some unpleasant feeling with the big wigs. Hither I arrived, in due time to save a lecture, and receive an invitation to spend a few weeks in the ensuing year at Cambridge, where my kind friend Horace Eglantine has entered himself of Trinity; and by the way of inducement, has transmitted the characteristic sketch of the notorious Jemmy Gordon playing off one of his mad pranks upon the big wigs of Peter-House, (see plate) the particulars of which, will, with more propriety, come into my sketches at Cambridge.
[ [!-- IMG --] [ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE]
![[ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE]](#6228373775077523670_page369b.jpg.id-8940867416436715989.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
We are here all bustle—Scouts packing up and posting off to the coach-offices with luggage—securing places for students, and afterwards clearing places for themselves—Oxford Duns on the sharp look-out for shy-ones, and pretty girls whimpering at the loss of their lovers—Dons and Big wigs promising themselves temporal pleasures, and their ladies reviling the mantua-makers for not having used sufficient expedition—some taking their last farewell of alma mater, and others sighing to behold the joyous faces of affectionate kindred and early friends. Long bills, and still longer promises passing currently—and the High-street exhibiting a scene of general confusion, until the last coach rattles over Magdalen bridge, and Oxford tradesmen close their oaks.
Bernard Blackmantle.
TERM ENDS. [ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]
