VI.
RUGGER NIGHT.
It was Friday, the day before the Rugger Match, and every one was considering how to get away, as the College Collections were going on all the morning, and the match began at two o’clock. Those who had been in the Schools, of course, had no difficulty in getting leave; but the excuses offered by the rest were more numerous than truthful. The number of dentists with whom urgent appointments had been made was simply phenomenal, while several men had relatives who had chosen that exact day to leave for the Riviera, or to return from South Africa. The rush by the 12.52, which arrived almost in time for the match, was unprecedented. Freddy, who had been in for a Viva that morning, arrived at the station just before the train started, with a shirt in his coat pocket, and two ties and a collar rolled up in a copy of the Daily Mail. He also brought two bags stuffed with unnecessary things, bulging and unlocked; he is, I think, the most untidy person in Oxford. The Pilot, Reggie, de Beresford, Accrington and I were waiting for him on the platform; and de B. had just offered five to one against his turning up, but, unfortunately no one had taken him, owing to Freddy’s known unpunctuality. We secured by the use of palm-oil, a carriage to ourselves, and played poker on the way up. We finished soon after Reading, and then the Pilot, who had been in an utterly penniless condition for two days previously, explained for our benefit how he had secured the necessary funds for this expedition.
‘You know,’ he began, ‘that picture “The Golden Dream,” by Dicksee; well, I bought that at Gill and Manser’s in the Corn, when I came up, and it cost me four guineas. Since then the value of the thing has gone up, and I got nearly seven pounds for it when I sold it to Pickington and Bluster. So I kept the fiver for this little trip; and sent the other people something on account.’
‘How did you know the thing would go up?’ inquired Freddy.
‘I didn’t,’ replied the Pilot. ‘But I knew it wouldn’t go down.’
On our arrival at Paddington we separated for various destinations: Freddy and I drove straight to Queen’s to meet Squiff who had been up overnight, and found the match had already started; so we made for our seats and proceeded to enjoy the game. It was an excellent fight, but resulted in a draw, which I always consider most unsatisfactory. However, the last ten minutes were so hard fought, and the relief so great, that Squiff, when the whistle was blown, out of pure joy planted his fist through the topper of an elderly and portly person with a gold chain, who was sitting in front; the old boy (who had been dancing on one leg and gurgling ‘Cambridge’ loudly) took no notice, but continued to yell, so we left him, and squeezed our way out. I got into a cab with Freddy and Squiff, and drove off to the ‘Cabin’ for tea.
‘Poor old Verimisti, who came to town with me yesterday, isn’t up yet,’ Squiff informed us; ‘he was very tired last night, didn’t arrive at the ‘Knavesmire’ till 4.30 a.m., and then gave the cabby sixpence and expected him to be satisfied. I had to come down in jimmies, pay the cabby, and help him to disembark. When I looked him up this morning he was having his fourth Laager, and at the mere mention of ham he turned a rich yellow.’
‘I gather, we’re all dining at the ‘Sphere’ at 7.30,’ I said, ‘we shall be the old crew plus Verimisti (if he’s well enough to come) and de Beresford. Is Fatty up?’