Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume I Part 27

A committee of the whole house immediately sat upon the question; and it was at length resolved, _nemine contradicente_, that the request should be complied with. A fresh bowl of punch, in honor of our expected guest, was immediately concocted, a new broil put on the gridiron, and having seated ourselves with as great a semblance of decorum as four bottles a man admits of, Curtis the junior captain, being most drunk, was deputed to receive the bursar at the door, and introduce him to our august presence.

Mike's instructions were, that immediately on Dr. Stone the bursar entering, the door was to be slammed to, and none of his followers admitted. This done, the doctor was to be ushered in and left to our polite attentions.

A fresh thundering from without scarcely left time for further deliberation; and at last Curtis moved towards the door in execution of his mission.

"Is there any one there?" said Mike, in a tone of most unsophisticated innocence, to a rapping that, having lasted three quarters of an hour, threatened now to break in the panel. "Is there any one there?"

"Open the door this instant,--the senior bursar desires you,--this instant."

"Sure it's night, and we're all in bed," said Mike.

"Mr. Webber, Mr. O'Malley," said the bursar, now boiling with indignation, "I summon you, in the name of the board, to admit me."

"Let the gemman in," hiccoughed Curtis; and at the same instant the heavy bars were withdrawn, and the door opened, but so sparingly as with difficulty to permit the pa.s.sage of the burly figure of the bursar.

Forcing his way through, and regardless of what became of the rest, he pushed on vigorously through the antechamber, and before Curtis could perform his functions of usher, stood in the midst of us. What were his feelings at the scene before him, Heaven knows. The number of figures in uniform at once betrayed how little his jurisdiction extended to the great ma.s.s of the company, and he immediately turned towards me.

"Mr. Webber--"

"O'Malley, if you please, Mr. Bursar," said I, bowing with, most ceremonious politeness.

"No matter, sir; _arcades ambo_, I believe."

"Both archdeacons," said Melville, translating, with a look of withering contempt upon the speaker.

The doctor continued, addressing me,--

"May I ask, sir, if you believe yourself possessed of any privilege for converting this university into a common tavern?"

"I wish to Heaven he did," said Curtis; "capital tap your old commons would make."

"Really, Mr. Bursar," replied I, modestly, "I had begun to flatter myself that our little innocent gayety had inspired you with the idea of joining our party."

"I humbly move that the old cove in the gown do take the chair," sang out one. "All who are of this opinion say, 'Ay.'" A perfect yell of ayes followed this. "All who are of the contrary say, 'No.' The ayes have it."

Before the luckless doctor had a moment for thought, his legs were lifted from under him, and he was jerked, rather than placed, upon a chair, and put sitting upon the table.

"Mr. O'Malley, your expulsion within twenty-four hours--"

"Hip, hip, hurra, hurra, hurra!" drowned the rest, while Power, taking off the doctor's cap, replaced it by a foraging cap, very much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the party.

"There is no penalty the law permits of that I shall not--"

"Help the doctor," said Melville, placing a gla.s.s of punch in his unconscious hand.

"Now for a 'Viva la Compagnie!'" said Telford, seating himself at the piano, and playing the first bars of that well-known air, to which, in our meetings, we were accustomed to improvise a doggerel in turn.

"I drink to the graces, Law, Physic, Divinity, Viva la Compagnie!

And here's to the worthy old Bursar of Trinity, Viva la Compagnie!"

"Viva, viva la va!" etc., were chorussed with a shout that shook the old walls, while Power took up the strain:

"Though with lace caps and gowns they look so like a.s.ses, Viva la Compagnie!"

They'd rather have punch than the springs of Parna.s.sus, Viva la Compagnie!

What a nose the old gentleman has, by the way, Viva la Compagnie!

Since he smelt out the Devil from Botany Bay,[1]

Viva la Compagnie!

[Footnote:1 Botany Bay was the slang name given by college men to a new square rather remotely situated from the remainder of the college.]

Words cannot give even the faintest idea of the poor bursar's feelings while these demoniacal orgies were enacting around him. Held fast in his chair by Lechmere and another, he glowered on the riotous mob around like a maniac, and astonishment that such liberties could be taken with one in his situation seemed to have surpa.s.sed even his rage and resentment; and every now and then a stray thought would flash across his mind that we were mad,--a sentiment which, unfortunately, our conduct was but too well calculated to inspire.

"So you're the morning lecturer, old gentleman, and have just dropped in here in the way of business; pleasant life you must have of it," said Casey, now by far the most tipsy man present.

"If you think, Mr. O'Malley, that the events of this evening are to end here--"

"Very far from it, Doctor," said Power; "I'll draw up a little account of the affair for 'Saunders.' They shall hear of it in every corner and nook of the kingdom."

"The bursar of Trinity shall be a proverb for a good fellow that loveth his lush," hiccoughed out Fegan.

"And if you believe that such conduct is academical," said the doctor, with a withering sneer.

"Perhaps not," lisped Melville, tightening his belt; "but it's devilish convivial,--eh, Doctor?"

"Is that like him?" said Moreton, producing a caricature which he had just sketched.

"Capital,--very good,--perfect. M'Cleary shall have it in his window by noon to-day," said Power.

At this instant some of the combustibles disposed among the rejected habiliments of my late vocation caught fire, and squibs, crackers, and detonating shots went off on all sides. The bursar, who had not been deaf to several hints and friendly suggestions about setting fire to him, blowing him up, etc., with one vigorous spring burst from his antagonists, and clearing the table at a bound, reached the floor. Before he could be seized, he had gained the door, opened it, and was away. We gave chase, yelling like so many devils. But wine and punch, songs and speeches, had done their work, and more than one among the pursuers measured his length upon the pavement; while the terrified bursar, with the speed of terror, held on his way, and gained his chambers by about twenty yards in advance of Power and Melville, whose pursuit only ended when the oaken panel of the door shut them out from their victim. One loud cheer beneath his window served for our farewell to our friend, and we returned to my rooms. By this time a regiment of those cla.s.sic functionaries ycleped porters had a.s.sembled around the door, and seemed bent upon giving battle in honor of their maltreated ruler; but Power explained to them, in a neat speech replete with Latin quotations, that their cause was a weak one, that we were more than their match, and finally proposed to them to finish the punch-bowl, to which we were really incompetent,--a motion that met immediate acceptance; and old Duncan, with his helmet in one hand and a goblet in the other, wished me many happy days and every luck in this life as I stepped from the ma.s.sive archway, and took my last farewell of Old Trinity.

Should any kind reader feel interested as to the ulterior course a.s.sumed by the bursar, I have only to say that the terrors of the "Board" were never fulminated against me, harmless and innocent as I should have esteemed them. The threat of giving publicity to the entire proceedings by the papers, and the dread of figuring in a sixpenny caricature in M'Cleary's window, were too much for the worthy doctor, and he took the wiser course under the circ.u.mstances, and held his peace about the matter. I, too, have done so for many a year, and only now recall the scene among the wild transactions of early days and boyish follies.

CHAPTER XXI

THE PHOENIX PARK.

What a glorious thing it is when our first waking thoughts not only dispel some dark, depressing dream, but arouse us to the consciousness of a new and bright career suddenly opening before us, buoyant in hope, rich in promise for the future! Life has nothing better than this. The bold spring by which the mind clears the depth that separates misery from happiness is ecstasy itself; and then what a world of bright visions come teeming before us,--what plans we form; what promises we make to ourselves in our own hearts; how prolific is the dullest imagination; how excursive the tamest fancy, at such a moment! In a few short and fleeting seconds, the events of a whole life are planned and pictured before us. Dreams of happiness and visions of bliss, of which all our after-years are insufficient to eradicate the _prestige_, come in myriads about us; and from that narrow aperture through which this new hope pierces into our heart, a flood of light is poured that illumines our path to the very verge of the grave. How many a success in after-days is reckoned but as one step in that ladder of ambition some boyish review has framed, perhaps, after all, destined to be the first and only one! With what triumph we hail some goal attained, some object of our wishes gained, less for its present benefit, than as the accomplishment of some youthful prophecy, when picturing to our hearts all that we would have in life, we whispered within us the flattery of success.

Who is there who has not had some such moment; and who would exchange it, with all the delusive and deceptive influences by which it comes surrounded, for the greatest actual happiness he has partaken of? Alas, alas, it is only in the boundless expanse of such imaginations, unreal and fict.i.tious as they are, that we are truly blessed! Our choicest blessings in life come even so a.s.sociated with some sources of care that the cup of enjoyment is not pure but dregged in bitterness.

To such a world of bright antic.i.p.ation did I awake on the morning after the events I have detailed in the last chapter. The first thing my eyes fell upon was an official letter from the Horse Guards:--

"The commander of the forces desires that Mr. O'Malley will report himself, immediately on the receipt of this letter, at the headquarters of the regiment to which he is gazetted."