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Updated: June 1, 2025
"You are str-str-strangers?" said the Oxonian, after a violent exertion to express himself, caused by an impediment in his speech. WAIFE. "Yes, sir, travellers. I trust we are not trespassing: this is not private ground, I think?" OXONIAN. "And if-f-f-f it were, my f-f-father would not war-n-n you off-ff f." "Is it your father's ground, then? Sir, I beg you a thousand pardons."
Our Oxonian was a young man about the middle height, and naturally of a thoughtful expression and rather reserved mien. The general character of his countenance was, indeed, a little stern, but it broke into an almost bewitching smile, and a blush suffused his face, as he sprang forward and welcomed an individual about the same age, who had jumped off the Blenheim.
The Oxonian, however, is her favourite, probably from, being the youngest, though he is the most mischievous, and has been apt to play tricks upon her from boyhood. I cannot help mentioning one little ceremony, which, I believe, is peculiar to the Hall.
But the greatest of these the greatest by far is The Scholar-Gipsy. I have read and that not once only, nor only in the works of unlettered and negligible persons expressions of irritation at the local Oxonian colour. This is surely amazing. One may not be an Athenian, and never have been at Athens, yet be able to enjoy the local colour of the Phædrus.
If their manliness and frankness are praised in their father's hearing, he quotes the old Persian maxim, and says, they have been taught "to ride, to shoot, and to speak the truth." It is true the Oxonian has now and then practised the old gentleman's doctrines a little in the extreme.
The Oxonian rubbed his eyes, and stared at the man with a vague impression that he had seen him before; when? where? "You can cure me," he stuttered out; "what of? the folly of trying to speak in public? Thank you, I am cured." "Nay, sir, you see before you a man who can make you a very good speaker. Your voice is naturally fine.
Olivia made another effort. It is Mr. Trevor, Madam; the grandson of the rector of *. 'Oh ho! The young Oxonian that my nephew Hector tells the comical story about; of the methodist preacher, and of his throwing you into the water, and then taking you out again.
The Oxonian offered at once to have his fortune told, and the girl began with the usual volubility of her race; but he drew her on one side near the hedge, as he said he had no idea of having his secrets overheard. I saw he was talking to her instead of she to him, and by his glancing towards us now and then, that he was giving the baggage some private hints.
MRS. CRANE. "And now she has a most comfortable home provided for her; and a young girl, with good friends, ought not to be tramping about the country, whatever an old man may do. You must allow that, sir?" OXONIAN. "Well, yes, I allow that; it occurred to me. But what is the man? the gentleman?" MRS. CRANE. "Very 'eccentric, as you say, and inconsiderate, perhaps, as to the little girl.
"My dear, this is Mr. Blair, Joe's friend from Oxford. We are great cronies already. My wife, Mr. Blair, and my daughter Kathleen." The young Oxonian suffered one of the most severe heart contusions known in the history of the human race. It was a positive vertigo of admiration. This was indeed the creature he had seen on the railway platform: a dazzling blend of girl and woman.
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