And Mrs. Tester forthwith began pressing and thumping her sides in
such a terrific manner, and appeared to be undergoing such internal
agony, that Mr. Verdant Green not only gave her brandy there and
then, for her immediate relief - "which it heases the spazzums
deerectly, bless you," observed Mrs. Tester, parenthetically; but
also told her where she could find the bottle, in case she should
again be attacked when in his rooms; attacks which, it is needless to
say, were repeated at every subsequent visit. Mrs. Tester then
finished putting away the tea and coffee, and entered into further
particulars about her late son; though what connection there was
between him and the packages of tea, our hero could not perceive.
Nevertheless he was much interested with her narrative, and thought
Mrs. Tester a very affectionate, motherly sort of woman; more
especially, when (Robert having placed his tea-things on the table)
she showed him how to make the tea; an apparently simple feat that
the freshman found himself perfectly unable to accomplish. And then
Mrs. Tester made a final dab, and her exit, and our hero sat over his
tea as long as he could, because it gave an idea of cheerfulness; and
then, after directing Robert to be sure not to forget to call him in
time for morning chapel, he retired to bed.
The bed was very hard, and so small, that, had it not been for the
wall, our hero's legs would have been visible (literally) at the
foot; but despite these novelties, he sank into a sound rest, which
at length passed into the following dream. He thought that he was
back again at dinner at the Manor Green, but that the room was
curiously like the hall of Brazenface, and that Mrs. Tester and Dr.
Portman were on either side of
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 55]
him, with Mr. Fosbrooke and Robert talking to his sisters; and that
he was reaching his hand to help Mrs. Tester to a packet of tea,
which her son had sent them from the West Indies, when he threw over
a wax-light, and set every thing on fire; and that the parish engine
came up; and that there was a great noise, and a loud hammering; and,
"Eh? yes! oh! the half-hour is it? Oh, yes! thank you!" And Mr.
Verdant Green sprang out of bed much relieved in mind to find
<VG055.JPG> that the alarm of fire was nothing more than his scout
knocking vigorously at his door, and that it was chapel-time.
"Want any warm water, sir?" asked Mr. Filcher, putting his head in at
the door.
"No, thank you," replied our hero; "I - I -"
"Shave with cold. Ah! I see, sir. It's much 'ealthier, and makes the
'air grow. But any thing as you ~does~ want, sir, you've only to
call."
"If there is any thing that I want, Robert," said Verdant, "I will
ring."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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