About 1550, whilst the famous Richard Cox, Bishop of Ely, was Dean of Christ-church, Oxford, says Cole, in his Athenæ Cant., "he brought his wife into the college, who, with the wife of Peter Martyr, a canon of the same cathedral, were observed to be the first women ever introduced into a cloister or college, and, upon that account, gave no small scandal at the time." This reminds me of an anecdote that used to amuse the under-grads in my day at Cambridge. A certain D.D., head of a college, a _bachelor_, and in his habits retired to a degree of solitariness, in an unlucky moment gave a lady that did not want twice bidding, not bill of exchange, but a _running_ invitation to the college lodge, to be used at pleasure. She luckily seized the long vacation for making her appearance, when there were but few students in residence; but to the confusion of our D.D., her _ten_ daughters came _en traine_, and the college was not a little scandalized by their playing shuttlecock in the open court--the lady was in no haste to go. Report says sundry hints were given in vain. She took his original _invite_ in its literal sense, to "suit her own convenience." The anxiety he endured threw our modest D.D. in to a sick-bed, and not relishing the office of nurse to a bachelor of sixty years' standing, she decamped, + her ten daughters. * * * * * THE CAMBRIDGE SCHOLAR AND THE GHOST OF A SCRAG OF MUTTON. In the days that are past, by the side of a stream, Where waters but softly were flowing, With ivy o'ergrown an old mansion-house stood, That was built on the skirts of a chilling damp wood, Where the yew-tree and cypress were growing. The villagers shook as they passed by the doors, When they rested at eve from their labours; And the traveller many a furlong went round, If his ears once admitted the terrific sound, Of the tale that was told by the neighbours. They said, "that the house in the skirts of the wood By a saucer-eyed ghost was infested, Who filled every heart with confusion and fright, By assuming strange shapes at the dead of the night, Shapes monstrous, and foul, and detested." And truly they said, and the monster well knew, That the ghost was the greatest of evils; For no sooner the bell of the mansion toll'd one, Than the frolicksome imp in a fury begun To caper like ten thousand devils. He appeared in forms the most strange and uncouth, Sure never was goblin so daring! He utter'd loud shrieks and most horrible cries, Curst his body and bones, and his _sweet little eyes_, Till his impudence grew beyond bearing. Just at this nick o' time, when the master's sad heart With anguish and sorrow was swelling, He heard that a scholar with science complete, Full of magical lore as an egg's full of meat, At _Cambridge_ had taken a dwelling.