Mr. Pucker waxed, if possible, redder and hotter than before[,] he gasped like a fish out of water; and, like Dryden's prince, "unable to conceal his pain," he "Sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again." But all was to no purpose: he was unable to frame an answer to Mr. Fosbrooke's questions. "Ah, sir," continued his tormentor, "I see that you will not do for us yet awhile, and I am therefore under the painful necessity of rejecting you. I should advise you, sir, to read hard for another twelvemonths, and endeavour to master those subjects in which you have now failed. For, a young man, Mr. Pucker, who knows nothing about the Fourth Punic War, and the constitution of ancient Heliopolis, is quite unfit to be enrolled among the members of such a learned college as Brazenface. Mr. Pluckem quite coincides with me in this decision." (Here Mr. Verdant Green gave a Burleigh nod.) "We feel very sorry for you, Mr. Pucker, and also for your unfortunate family; but we recommend you to add to your present stock of knowledge, and to keep those visiting-cards for another twelvemonth." And Mr. Fosbrooke and our hero - disregarding poor Mr. Pucker's entreaties that they would consider his pa and ma, and would please to matriculate him this once, and he would read very hard, indeed he would - turned to Mr. Bouncer and gave some private instructions, which caused that gentleman immediately to vanish, and seek out Mr. Robert Filcher. Five minutes after, that excellent Scout met the dejected Mr. Pucker as he was crossing the Quad on his way from Mr. Fosbrooke's rooms. "Beg your pardon, sir," said Mr. Filcher, touching his forehead; for, as Mr. Filcher, after the manner of his tribe, never was seen in a head-covering, he was unable to raise his hat or cap; "beg your pardon, sir! but was you a lookin' for the party as examines the young gents for their matrickylation?" [AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 133] "Eh?-no! I have just come from him," replied Mr. Pucker, dolefully. "Beg your pardon, sir," remarked Mr. Filcher, "but his rooms ain't that way at all. Mr. Slowcoach, as is the party you ~ought~ to have seed, has ~his~ rooms quite in a hopposite direction, sir; and he's the honly party as examines the matrickylatin' gents." "But I ~have~ been examined," observed Mr. Pucker, with the <VG133.JPG> air of a plucked man; "and I am sorry to say that I was rejected, and" - "I dessay, sir," interrupted Mr. Filcher; "but I think it's a 'oax, sir!" "A what?" stammered Mr. Pucker. "A 'oax - a sell;" replied the Scout confidentially. "You see, sir, I think some of the gents have been makin' a little game of you, sir; they often does with fresh parties like you, sir, that seem fresh and hinnocent like; and I dessay they've been makin' believe to examine you, sir, and a pretendin' that you wasn't clever enough. But they don't mean no harm, sir; it's only their play, bless you!"