G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that “men went to Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!”[9] There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- “We visit Sandford next and there Beckley provides accustomed fare Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. The pretty handmaid’s anxious toils Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees The bill o’erpaid and pockets fees Supplied for ribbon or for lace To deck her bonnet or her face.” To-day Hebe has become _blasé_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a friend who was already an expert. “At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, And briskly scud before the gale To Iffley--where our course awhile Detain--its locks and Saxon pile Affording pause; to recommend The Hobby-horse unto my friend. Our light-built galley; ours I say Since Warren bears an equal sway In her command; as first, in cost The half he shared; himself a host Whether he plies the limber oar Or tows the vessel from the shore; Or strains the main sheet tight astern Close to the wind; of him I learn Patient to wait the time exact When jib and foresail should be back’d To bring her round; or mark the strain The boat on gunwale can sustain Without aught danger of upsetting, Or giving both her mates a wetting.”[10] [Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON’S STUDY AT OXFORD.]