When I entered the Fresher’s room I found Lord St. Ronots and another St. Union’s man called Hawkes, Downey of Lichfield, and a certain Italian Count by the name of Imarisa. Reggie and Accrington had also come in, but as they were busily engaged playing different tunes upon the same piano, I do not include them among the respectable people. As we commenced operations upon the inevitable lobster salad, and the Fresher succeeded in inducing his scout, who had three other parties on the staircase, to attend to us for fully two consecutive minutes, St. Ronots remarked that the panto at the Suburban was not covered with dust to any appreciable extent, which for St. Ronots, and still more for the Suburban, is a great concession. Downey said that he intended going to see the show, and when Reggie in his usual charming way mentioned that I was going with him and several other people, I began to realise that most of the very best would patronise the Suburban that night. We decided to make a circular tour of the ancient and moth-eaten city after lunch for the purpose of beating up recruits, but meanwhile we were perforce constrained to turn our attention to the ‘savoury viands’--as the late W. Shakespeare would probably have said. There was no lack of incident to vary the monotony of mere eating, for the Fresher persisted in consuming noxious Virginian cigarettes between each dish, while Reggie accompanied every entry of the scout by martial airs upon the piano. It may perhaps be as well to mention that this did not necessitate any exceptional exertion on Reggie’s part, or he would certainly never have done it, but he merely leant back in his chair and played the piano with ease, the dimensions of the Fresher’s apartment being somewhat restricted. After lunch was over we all went round in a body to St. Union’s and other Colleges in search of joyful souls to join us for the evening’s jaunt, and while passing through the Corn on our way to Thomas’, we met Elgar of King’s and two titled foreigners, who informed us that they were ‘looking for trouble.’ This sounded promising, and so we enlisted their services immediately and invited them to coffee at our digs after dinner. We extended a like invitation to most of the other people we met that afternoon, and then hastened back to the Pilot-House--as Reggie now calls our establishment--to order a festive little dinner.