1829.) Three Years at Cambridge. 471 
of line behind him. Now and then we caught a glimpse of his broad 
black back as he rose to the surface to get breath, and the sight served 
wonderously to whet our expectations. At last, after a full hour’s 
exertion, we contrived to draw him into the boat, and were literally 
thunderstruck by his size. He was the largest pike, said our Pali- 
nurus, as he stuck him coolly through the skull, that had ever been 
caught in the Lincoln Fens; and may, to this hour, be seen stuffed in 
the front parlour of the George Inn, Ramsay, to whose quaint but 
social landlord we presented him on our return. By this time the sun 
had declined considerably from his meridian ; and as night on the Fens, 
more especially when the waves run high, is anything but satisfactory, 
we prepared for our return to Ramsay. As we reached the mouth of 
the canal, we paused an instant to catch a parting glimpse of the scene 
we were quitting. It was more than ever impressive, for the gathering 
shadows of evening had heightened its fearful gloom. No sun dyed in 
blood, set in deep purple splendour on the vast waters of the lake; 
the twilight was worthy of the landscape, and crept on, accompanied 
by a mass of leaden clouds that momently sank down upon the Fen, 
whose livid surface, as we quitted it, lay stretched out in indistinct and 
frightful blackness behind us. 
Ihave now brought down my narrative to the third (¢.e. the last) 
year of my residence at the University. This is usually a very awkward 
and embarrassing epoch. For his two first years, the dashing Cantab is 
every where abroad—he is seen dancing at the Huntingdon Assemblies 
—boating at Chesterton—betting at Newmarket—fishing on the fens— 
sporting on the Gogs—but the last year he gradually retires from notice ; 
his instinctive bashfulness gets the better of him; he shrinks into him- 
self, and becomes invisible, first to his friends, and finally to his creditors. 
This, therefore, I call the year of retribution and invisibility. With me 
it passed slowly, and in extreme wretchedness. I was dunned all day, 
and had the nightmare all night. Wherever I went, there was I sure to 
meet a creditor. In fact, so numerous were these last, that, had I been 
patriotically addicted, I am convinced I could have raised a regiment from 
them, out of which a capital Light Company—or, rather, a Forlorn 
Hope—might have been formed from my tailors only. 
Asif this of itself were not sufficiently vexatious, I had farther the feli-~ 
city of finding myself confined to Gates, Hall, and Chapel, for a week, in 
consequence of having presumed, through the medium of an epigram, 
_ to do justice to the personal and mental attractions of my before-men- 
_ tioned tutor. Of course, such rigour on his part was not to be passed 
over with impunity ; and, accordingly, I meditated a plan of revenge, 
which I put into execution as follows. Attached to our college was a 
__ smart, lively young girl, the niece of one of our bed-makers, of whose 
charms T- n—at least so said report—was far from entertaining a 
bad opinion. Acting on the probability of this rumour, and having 
_ heard it luckily confirmed by some sly compliments which my chaste 
instructor paid one evening to the fair Dulcinea as she passed the Com- 
jination-room, in which he happened to be seated alone at his wine, I 
yrote him a letter in her name, requesting that he would meet me the 
ensuing evening at Parker’s Piece, disguised in a dark cloak, as I wished 
much to consult him on matters of moment. I added, that, in order to 
reyent mistakes, I should be plainly dressed in a full black hood, 
vith a hat on. I then addressed another epistle to 'T n’s chief 
enemy, the Bursar of the college—whose penchant for the same nymph 
