As flashes the pheasant's tail when he hears the first gun in October. Now with a yell and a spring the cads came up to the onset, Cursing and swearing amain, and throwing their arms out like thunder. Stopping before All Saints' the hideous work of Dean Aldrich, Stopping De Whyskers made emphatic the sign for the battle, Thereon he let fall a blow swift like an armourer's hammer, Down on his face fell a cad as falls an oak on the mountains, Forth from his nose came "the red" as oft in the vintage the dresser Squeezes the blushing grape on the plains of Estremadura. Now from the end of the High a rush of the cads overwhelming Sweeps as the sea sweeps on in the long dark nights of the winter, Howling as howl the wolves through the snow in the forests of Sweden; Blow after blow is struck, as the flakes come down in the snowstorm. Now from the Turl to the Broad, and St. Giles's, abode of the peaceful, Even to Worcester the slow, or _Botany Bay_, as they call it, Down by Trinity Gates, and Balliol beloved of the scholar, Down by the temple of Tom, whence the Curfew rings in the gloaming Thundered the fray till the rain came down on the scene as a damper. _College Rhymes_ (T. and G. Shrimpton, Oxford, 1865.) The great "Town and Gown" rows that used to occur annually on the Fifth of November, between the undergraduates and the townspeople, have been gradually dying out, but the memory of them still lingers in many old College Rhymes and traditions. They are most vividly described in _Verdant Green, an Oxford Freshman_, a light-hearted clever little work, by the Rev. E. Bradley, Rector of Lenton, better known under his pseudonym of Cuthbert Bede. Mr. Bradley, although himself a Cambridge man, was intimately acquainted with Oxford. * * * * * A VOICE FROM THE FAR WEST, _Hailing the Centenary Birthday of Burns_.