“Though with lace caps and gowns they look so like asses, Viva la Compagnie!” They’d rather have punch than the springs of Parnassus, 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 surpassed 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.