The night before, he had given a still better specimen of his effrontery.  He had picked up a number of old Harrovians, with whom he had repaired to a tavern for song, supper, and sociability, and as usual in such cases, in the lap of Alma Mater, the babes became sufficiently intoxicated, and not a little uproarious.  Drinking in a tavern is forbidden by Oxonian statutes, and one of the proctors happening to pass in the street outside, was attracted into the house by the sound of somewhat unscholastic merriment.  The effect can be imagined.  All the youths were in absolute terror, except Theodore, and looked in vain for some way to escape.  The wary and faithful ‘bulldogs’ guarded the doorway; the marshal, predecessor of the modern omniscient Brown, advanced respectfully behind the proctor into the room, and passing a penetrating glance from one youth to the other, all of whom—­except Theodore again—­he knew by sight—­for that is the pride and pleasure of a marshal—­mentally registered their names in secret hopes of getting half-a-crown a-piece to forget them again.

No mortal is more respectful in his manner of accosting you than an Oxford proctor, for he may make a mistake, and a mistake may make him very miserable.  When, for instance, a highly respectable lady was the other day lodged, in spite of protestations, in the ’Procuratorial Rooms,’ and there locked up on suspicion of being somebody very different, the over-zealous proctor who had ordered her incarceration was sued for damages for L300, and had to pay them too!  Therefore the gentleman in question most graciously and suavely inquired of Mr. Theodore Hook—­

’I beg your pardon, sir, but are you a member of this university?’—­the usual form.

‘No, sir, I am not.  Are you?’

The suavity at once changed to grave dignity.  The proctor lifted up the hem of his garment, which being of broad velvet, with the selvage on it, was one of the insignia of his office, and sternly said,—­’You see this, sir.’

‘Ah!’ said Hook, cool as ever, and quietly feeling the material, which he examined with apparent interest, ’I see; Manchester velvet:  and may I take the liberty, sir, of inquiring how much you have paid per yard for the article?’

A roar of laughter from all present burst forth with such vehemence that it shot the poor official, red with suppressed anger, into the street again, and the merrymakers continued their bout till the approach of midnight, when they were obliged to return to their respective colleges.

Had Theodore proceeded in this way for several terms, no doubt the outraged authorities would have added his name to the list of the great men whom they have expelled from time to time most unprophetically.  As it was, he soon left the groves of Academus, and sought those of Fashion in town.  His matriculation into this new university was much more auspicious; he was hailed in society as already fit to take a degree of bachelor of his particular arts, and ere long his improvising, his fun, his mirth—­as yet natural and over-boiling—­his wicked punning, and his tender wickedness, induced the same institution to offer him the grade of ‘Master’ of those arts.  In after years he rose to be even ‘Doctor,’ and many, perhaps, were the minds diseased to which his well-known mirth ministered.