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SIR,

I have been Ploughed in Mods! Yes, Sir, it will be handed down to unborn generations, that I, Bellerophon Tott, was actually ploughed in Mods. It would not be worth my while to dilate on the gross unfairness of the Examiners, or the notorious system of bribery which exists in the Schools, or on the unblushing venality of the official who dispenses Testamurs-these are facts which are wellknown to the veriest Freshman, but that these unscrupulous hirelings of an organised system of rapacious hypocrisy should have dared to refuse me a Testamur is, I will venture to say, unparalleled in the annals of Oxford. Sir, I may well remark in the language of the Swan of Avon.

"There are words for other agonies, But none for these."

That is to say none that I should like to make use of in writing to your high-class periodical.

My object, Sir, in writing to you is to expose this horrible system which is as it were eating into the very vitals of this University, and for this purpose I intend to give the Logic Paper which was set me in the Schools, to append my answers, as a specimen of the way in which I satisfactorily polished off all the papers, and then, through the medium of your widely-circulated journal, to appeal to that sense of justice which is implanted in

ST. JUDE'S.

the breast of every Englishman, and ask your readers whether they do not think that I have been treated with gross unfairness.

Sir, it was with a radiant heart and a new white tie that I entered the Schools on the first morning of the examination, and having with some difficulty found my seat, I cast a glance over my Paper, which I discovered was Logic. As I had been told that Logic was common sense, of which I venture to think I have a considerable amount, I thought I should find no difficulty in flooring this paper, and at once set to work at it.

The first question was :-
Is Logic a Science or an Art, or both?

As I wasn't quite sure about it, I thought I had better put down Both, when my eye was suddenly caught by a rider to the question in the shape of Give reasons for your answer.

Give reasons! Why I had'nt got any, much less any to give away. I was in despair, when suddenly the real state of the case flashed across me. It was catch, and the real answer was Neither. So I promptly wrote down :

a

Neither, because a Science is a thing about bones, chemicals, or rocks, or something of that sort, and Art is drawing or painting.

Having satisfactorily answered that question, I turned to the next, which

was:

89

Here was a neat scope for originality; so I at once wrote down 27, having no particular partiality for that number above any other, but thinking it would show accuracy and precision.

Then came :

What are the Heads of Predicables?

Now, not having the smallest notion what on earth Predicables were, how could I possibly be able to state what were their Heads. However, my ready wit came to my aid as usual, and I thought I could not do better than give a list of Heads of Colleges, as perhaps Predicable might be another word for College, (as some Dons call Smalls, Responsions,) and even if this was not the case, the Examiners would be pleased at my showing a knowledge of the University authorities. Accordingly I gave a list, as far as I could, of the Heads of Colleges.

The next question was an absurdly easy one:

What are the different kinds of Terms ? After a minute or two's thought, I wrote down as many as I could remember, which were the following;

Act Term, Summer Term, Hilary Term, a Term of reproach, a Term of endearmeut, Terms Cash.

I hastened on to the next one, What is the difference between Conversion and Permutation ?

This was evidently a sort of amiable conundrum set by a weak-minded but jocose Examiner to break the dull monotony of the Paper. So after puz

I meant this to please him, as I know people don't like having their riddles guessed.

Then came :

What are Summun Genus, Infima Species, Dichotomy, Conversio per Accidens, Fallacy?-Give examples.

Ah! This was really interesting, and could no doubt be done by Common Sense coupled with a small knowledge of the classics. So I began

Summum Genus The Highest race, e.g. Undergraduates.

Infima Species A degraded class, e.g. Bulldogs.

Dichotomy Dichotomy The art of painting china to look as if it were real, e.g. Saucers. Conversio per accidens when a man meets with an accident and becomes a reformed character, e.g. being nearly drowned.

Fallacy a silly untruth, e.g. all Dons are good men.

Next came a most mysterious and cabalistic question,

Construct Syllogisms in Baroko, Darii, Festino, and Bramantip.

What? could I believe my eyes? yes, there it was as large as life. But what did it all mean? At last after looking at it for a long time, for the strange mystic words seemed to exercise a kind of awful fascination over me, a brilliant thought struck me; it was a misprint! of course it How odd I never thought of it before. But what an extraordinary collec

was.

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tion of misprints, no less than five in one question. The compositor must either have been drunk, or the Examiner's hand-writing execrable. The best thing to do I thought was to go up to the Examiner who was in the room, and ask him what the true reading was, so assuming an air of bland surprise I pointed out to him the atrocious and absurd misprints. To my intense astonishment he refused to see the matter in the same light as I did, but said that it was all right, and if I could not do it I had better go on to the others, which I accordingly did. I have now discovered that this was part of the vile plot against me to get me ploughed, for my friends tell me that other men (who had no doubt bribed the Examiners) found no misprints in their copies of the Paper.

The next question was :Examine the following arguments :

(i) Nothing is heavier than Platina, feathers are heavier than nothing, therefore feathers are heavier than Platina.

Loaves of bread grow on bread-fruit trees, bread-fruit trees grow in the fields, therefore loaves of bread grow in the fields.

This was the end of the paper, and on looking it over, I found I had done 10 out of 13 questions, so I can fairly say I floored that paper, and I have no hesitation in saying that I did all the others equally well, but I should be trespassing too much on your space were I to give all the papers in full, and so premising that this is a fair specimen of my answers, I will go on to describe my Vira Voce.

With full confidence of obtaining my Testamur, being at that time in happy ignorance of the manner in which examinations are conducted, I made my appearance at the Schools on the morning of my Viva Voce along with some 15 other men, few of whom appeared so confident as I was. When we were admitted into the presence of the Examiners, I was pleased but hardly surprised at hearing my name called out first. I went up gaily to the table and took my seat opposite one of the Examiners, who requested me to translate a passage from St. Luke, which I did in my usual style, giving a running comment as I went on. When I had got through about four verses, the Examiner stopped me, saying, "Thank you, Sir, we won't trouble you any further." I appre ciated his politeness, but assured him it was no trouble, and proceeded. However, he again stopped me, and told me that would do. I thought I would now draw out the Examiner a little, so I began as follows:

impossible, as my papers were extremely good, and indeed I was rather annoyed at his suggesting the possibility of my being ploughed, and when he asked if he should go for my Testamur, I said no, I would get it myself. I will draw a veil over the rest of this dark scene, suffice to say that I was refused my Testamur. Sir, I leave Oxford for ever; it would not become me to remain in a place where vice and bribery openly flaunt themselves in high places, in a place where the talented but impecunious student is refused the Testamur which can only be bought by the gold of the brainless millionaire, and I remain,

Yours indignantly, BELLEROPHON TOTT.

O men with mothers to please!

It is not for them my portraits are bought,
But for dearer far than these!
Snip-snip-snip,

With a point as keen as a dart,
Carving at once a likeness to suit,
And a place in the loved one's heart.

"But why do I talk of her?

The fair one of unknown name,
I hardly think she could tell the face;
They all seem much the same-
They all seem much the same,
Because of the types I keep ;

'Tis odd that faces should be so like, And yet I work them so cheap!

"Wire-wire-wire,

My labour never flags;

And what are its wages? A copper or two, Which I lose through the holes in my bags,

A nod of the head, or a passing joke,-
A laugh,—a freshman's stare,-

Or a gent so bland, when I ask him to stand

While I carve him his portrait there.

"Wire-wire-wire,

In sound of S. Mary's chimes,

Wire-wire-wire,

As specials wire to the Times!
Hair, and shoulder, and brow,
Brow, and shoulder, and hair,

Till the trick is done, and I pocket the

coin

As I finish it off with care.

"Wire-wire-wire,

In the dull month of Novem

ber, wire-wire-wire, When Oxford is bright with Commem. While under light parasols,

The pretty girls slily glance,

As if to shew how nice they would look
If they'ld only give me a chance.

"Oh! but to catch that face
Which health and beauty deck-

That hat posed on her head,
And the curl that falls on her neck ;
For only a minute or two

To sketch as I could when I tried
To take off the Vice as he passed one day,
And the Prince in my hat by his side!
"Oh! but for a minute or two!

A moment which soon will have gone! No blessed second for fair or brunette,

Nor even to copy a don!

A little sketching would bring some brass, But in its musty case

My scissors must lie, for I have but one

eye

With which to look out for a face!

With finger cunning and firm,

With one eye and a crooked back,
An old man clad in an old pair of bags,
Was carving a profile in black.
Snip-snip-snip,

Cold, wet, or whatever the day,

And still with a voice of a ludicrous crack,

Would I could describe its cadaverous

knack

He croaked the "Wirer's Lay." ARTHUR-A-BLAND.