"Was he a relation of yours?" I asked, gently. "My bairn--my bairn--my eldest bairn. Dinnot yow ax me no moor--dinnot then, bor'. Gie on, yow powney, and yow goo leuk vor un." Another long silence. "I've a been to Lunnon, looking vor un." Another silence. "I went up and down, up and down, day and night, day and night, to all pot-houses as I could zee; vor, says I, he was a'ways a main chap to drink, he was. Oh, deery me! and I never cot zight on un--and noo I be most spent, I be."-- And he pulled up at another public-house, and tried this time a glass of brandy. He stopped, I really think, at every inn between that place and Cambridge, and at each tried some fresh compound; but his head seemed, from habit, utterly fire-proof. At last, we neared Cambridge, and began to pass groups of gay horsemen, and then those strange caps and gowns--ugly and unmeaning remnant of obsolete fashion. The old man insisted on driving me up to the gate of * * * College, and there dropped me, after I had given him my address, entreating me to "vind the bairn, and coom to zee him down to Metholl. But dinnot goo ax for Farmer Porter--they's all Porters there away. Yow ax for Wooden-house Bob--that's me; and if I barn't to home, ax for Mucky Billy--that's my brawther--we're all gotten our names down to ven; and if he barn't to home, yow ax for Frog-hall--that's where my sister do live; and they'll all veed ye, and lodge ye, and welcome come. We be all like one, doon in the ven; and do ye, do ye, vind my bairn!" And he trundled on, down the narrow street. I was soon directed, by various smart-looking servants, to my cousin's rooms; and after a few mistakes, and wandering up and down noble courts and cloisters, swarming with gay young men, whose jaunty air and dress seemed strangely out of keeping with the stem antique solemnity of the Gothic buildings around, I espied my cousin's name over a door; and, uncertain how he might receive me, I gave a gentle, half-apologetic knock, which, was answered by a loud "Come in!" and I entered on a scene, even more incongruous than anything I had seen outside. "If we can only keep away from Jesus as far as the corner, I don't care." "If we don't run into that first Trinity before the willows, I shall care with a vengeance." "If we don't it's a pity," said my cousin. "Wadham ran up by the side of that first Trinity yesterday, and he said that they were as well gruelled as so many posters, before they got to the stile." This unintelligible, and to my inexperienced ears, irreverent conversation, proceeded from half a dozen powerful young men, in low-crowned sailors' hats and flannel trousers, some in striped jerseys, some in shooting-jackets, some smoking cigars, some beating up eggs in sherry; while my cousin, dressed like "a fancy waterman," sat on the back of a sofa, puffing away at a huge meerschaum. "Alton! why, what wind on earth has blown you here?"