"They may have all the degrees to themselves, for anything I care. I wish they would let one pay a servitor for passing little-go for one. It would be deuced comfortable. I wonder it don't strike the dons, now; they might get clever beggars for servitors, and farm them, and so make loads of tin." "But, Drysdale, seriously, why should you talk like that? If they can take all the degrees we can, and are, in fact, just what we are, undergraduates, I can't see why they're not as likely to be gentlemen as we. It can surely make no difference, their being poor men?" "It must make them devilish uncomfortable," said the incorrigible payer of double fees, getting up to light his cigar. "The name ought to carry respect here, at any rate. The Black Prince was an Oxford man, and he thought the noblest motto he could take was, 'Ich dien,' I serve." "If he were here now, he would change it for 'Je paye.'" "I often wish you would tell me what you really and truly think, Drysdale." "My dear fellow I am telling you what I do really think. Whatever the Black Prince might be pleased to observe if he were here, I stick to my motto. I tell you the thing to be able to do here at Oxford is--to pay." "I don't believe it." "I knew you wouldn't." "I don't believe you do either." "I do, though. But what makes you so curious about servitors?" "Why, I made friends with Hardy, one of our servitors. He is such a fine fellow!" I am sorry to relate that it cost Tom an effort to say this to Drysdale, but he despised himself that it was so. "You should have told me so, before you began to pump me," said Drysdale. "However, I partly suspected something of the sort. You've a good bit of a Quixote in you. But really, Brown," he added, seeing Tom redden and look angry, "I'm sorry if what I said pained you. I daresay this friend of yours is a gentleman, and all you say." "He is more of a gentleman by a long way than most of the--" "Gentlemen commoners, you were going to say. Don't crane at such a small fence on my account. I will put it in another way for you. He can't be a greater snob than many of them." "Well, but why do you live with them so much, then?" "Why? because they happen to do the things I like doing, and live up here as I like to live. I like hunting and driving, and drawing badgers, and playing cards, and good wine and cigars. They hunt and drive, and keep dogs and good cellars, and will play unlimited loo or Van John as long as I please." "But I know you get very sick of all that often, for I've heard you say as much half-a-dozen times in the little time I've been here." "Why, you don't want to deny me the Briton's privilege of grumbling, do you?" said Drysdale, as he flung his legs up on the sofa, crossing one over the other as he lounged on his back--his favorite attitude; "but suppose I am getting tired of it all--which I am not--what do you purpose as a substitute?"