‘There’ll be quite a clearance next term, I’m afraid,’ remarked Squiff; ‘such a number of the Unregenerate have failed in Law Prelim. or Mods., and they’re sure to be sent down.’
‘Yes, I was gone to drive mit a gountry vicar, next week,’ remarked von Graussman pensively, ‘and, oh! but the dullnesses vos ’orrible. Dere vos only von publig-house vour miles away, and dat they closes at ten hours. But,’ he added triumphantly, ‘I vos not a Brotestant, and I do not rise for der service at eight hours morning.’
‘Well, anyhow, we’ll make things hum in the summer,’ said Freddy; ‘it’ll be my last term, and Squiff’s and Reggie’s and several others, so we must create an impression, and a good one if possible, before we leave the ’Varsity.’
‘Don’t try and make an impression on the pavement outside the Royal Leicester to-night,’ said de Beresford mockingly, ‘it’s asphalt and very hard. I know,’ he added feelingly, ‘I’ve tried it.’
‘Anyhow, let’s make this a record night,’ said Accrington, who bubbled with excitement.
This sentiment met with a cordial reception. Verimisti rose carefully from the table and commenced a long and rambling speech which was ended by the arrival of what the Pilot somewhat coarsely calls ‘The Settler.’ Its real name is Ponche Romaine, and it acts as an appetiser, enabling one to begin again hungry on the second part of the dinner. This proceeded somewhat more rapidly, as we found it was getting late. We honoured several toasts, including ‘Conspuez les dons’ from Verimisti, ‘Hoch der Kaiser!’ from von Graussman, and ‘The Unregenerate’ from Freddy, and then rather unsteadily the party made its way to the cloak-room, and got into its outer garments.
A slight sensation was caused by Squiff kissing the girl who sold buttonholes in the entrance hall, while Verimisti’s attempt to embrace the stately official outside caused that personage both surprise and annoyance.
The arrival of the party at the Leicester was accompanied by much noise, and loud cheers on the part of several other parties who were also disembarking. As we went up the steps, somebody clutched my arm, and turning round I found it was Blandford of Barrabas’.
‘Hullo,’ I said, ‘are you coming in?’
‘That’s the question,’ he replied. It appeared that he had already been thrown out, but wanted to come in with our party again. ‘If I cram my hat down on my nose, and button up my coat, I’m sure they’ll pass me; I only want you to say I belong to you.’