On our return to 129 St. Aldate’s we took Squiff to task severely for daring to dispose of his own silver candlesticks on the previous day; as Freddy remarked, ‘What are things coming to when a man can do as he likes with his own property?’
‘I know where things are going to,’ responded Squiff, ‘and that is to Ranger’s in Beerage Street, I’ve had a breezy time lately; thank heaven term is nearly over.’
‘Ditto, ditto,’ remarked the Pilot mournfully; ‘if one looks back at the end of any term, there always seem to be so many things which one might have done and hasn’t; and such a lot of entirely unnecessary things which have come off most successfully. When I remember that, out of 751 allotted pages of Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, I have read exactly 57, the hollowness of life comes upon me with crushing reality.’
‘Poor old Pilot,’ laughed Squiff, ‘he’s got “the recollections” badly.’
‘I shall shortly have “the Collections” much worse,’ replied the Pilot.
‘Thank goodness,’ remarked Reggie fervently, ‘that terminal reports are not sent home to our “parents or guardians” from this University; what awful shocks they’d get.’
‘A printed record of gate-sconces and fines during residence should be given to every one on their departure, and the number of windows broken by the future B.A. should be certified by the Provost,’ I said.
‘Or even better,’ replied the Pilot, ‘a record of theatres attended, with musical comedies marked in red, should be sent to every Dean at the end of each term, by the theatre people.’
‘Great Scott, what revelations there’d be; why, some of the most respectable people would lose their characters at once. Poor old de Beresford, who went six times to “San Toy” and seven to “Florodora,” is supposed to be a model character.’ This from Reggie.