"Of drunkenness! dear me!"
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[9] As "Tufts" and "Tuft-hunters" have become "household words," it is perhaps needless to tell any one that the gold tassel is the distinguishing mark of a nobleman.
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"Yes, it's very sad, isn't it?" pursued Mr. Larkyns; "and I wonder that Peeper in particular should give way to such things. But you see how they brazen it out, and walk about as coolly as though nothing had happened. It's just the same sort of punishment," continued Mr. Larkyns, whose inventive powers increased with the demand that the freshman's gullibility imposed upon them, - "it is just the same sort of thing that they do with the Greenwich pensioners. When they have been trangressing the laws of sobriety, you know, they are made marked men by having to wear a yellow coat as a punishment; and our dons borrowed the idea, and made yellow tassels the badges of intoxication. But for the credit of the University, I'm glad to say that you'll not find many men so disgraced."
They now turned down the New Road, and came to a strongly castellated building, which Mr. Larkyns pointed out (and truly) as Oxford Castle or the Gaol; and he added (untruly), "if you hear Botany-Bay College [10] spoken of, this is the place that's meant. It's a delicate way of referring to the temporary sojourn that any undergrad has been forced to make there, to say that he belongs to Botany-Bay College."
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[10] A name given to Worcester College, from its being the most distant college.
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They now turned back, up Queen Street and High Street, when, as they were passing All Saints, Mr. Larkyns pointed out a pale, intellectual looking man who passed them, and said, "That man is Cram, the patent safety. He's the first coach in Oxford."
"A coach!" said our freshman, in some wonder.
"Oh, I forgot you didn't know college-slang. I suppose a royal mail is the only gentleman coach that you know of. Why, in Oxford, a coach means a private tutor, you must know; and those who can't afford a coach, get a cab, - alias a crib, - alias a translation. You see, Verdant, you are gradually being initiated into Oxford mysteries."
"I am, indeed," said our hero, to whom a new world was opening.
They had now turned round by the west end of St. Mary's, and were passing Brasenose; and Mr. Larkyns drew Verdant's attention to the brazen nose that is such a conspicuous object over the entrance-gate.