From many a dirty pot-house, And hole without a name, From many a low and filthy haunt The mob of blackguards came; From populous St. Aldates, Swarming with noisy brats; St. Aldates on whose house tops we Have often heard with ecstasy The sweet nocturnal melody Of melancholy cats. _Here follows a long and detailed description of a “Town and Gown” row; the sudden appearance of the “Proctor,” with the policemen, the hasty flight of the undergraduates, and their safe arrival home._ And now no living thing is seen In the deserted streets, Save Oxford’s useless bobbies, Who perambulate the High, From Carfax to where Magdalen tower Stands tall and grim at midnight hour Against the moonlit sky. And oft on winter evenings, In the cold Christmas vac., When home from school and college The youngsters have come back, Around the blazing fireside, Still is the story told, How well the gownsmen thrashed the town In the good days of old. From _Lays of Modern Oxford_, by Adon. Originally published by Chapman and Hall, London, 1874, in a small quarto form, but since re-issued in a cheaper form by Thomas Shrimpton and Son, Oxford. ―――― CH. CH. BESIEGED! An anonymous parody of _Horatius_, published in 1877 in pamphlet form (price sixpence), by T. Shrimpton and Son, Oxford. It is a short poem describing a practical joke very similar to that known as the “Berners Street Hoax,” perpetrated by Theodore Hook, in 1809. This consisted in writing to a large number of tradespeople and others, asking them to call, on various pretexts, at a certain house, at a fixed hour. In Theodore Hook’s case the hoax was pure mischief without any malicious intent; but in _Christ Church Besieged_, the joke is described as having been planned to annoy a certain Mr. M――――s. A certain set of Christ Church, One common oath they swore, That the great M――――s of Christ Church Should suffer yet once more, And to the Oxford tradesmen They named a trysting day And made the messenger go forth East and West and South and North, To summon the array. * * * * * But Mr. M――――s’s brow was sad, He said their speech was low And if they did not shut it up, He’d to the censor go. “These vans that come upon us, These tradesmen here that wait, I have not ordered,――Porter! I wish you’d keep the gate.” * * * * *