Oxford. 105 



ing each other down thus to a pittance when they can 

 read and write and vote. Thank fortune for this 



Our ladies were unusually gay in their decorations 

 to-day, with bunches of wild flowers on their breasts 

 and hats crowned with poppies and roses. They decked 

 the Queen Dowager out until she looked as if ready to 

 play Ophelia. Their smiles too were as pretty as their 

 flowers. What an embodied joy bright, happy ladies are 

 under all conditions, and how absolutely essential for a 

 coaching party ! Was it not Johnson's idea of happi- 

 ness to drive in a gig with a pretty woman ? He wasn't 

 much of a muff ! If anything could have kept him in 

 good humor, this would have done it. If he could have 

 been on top of a coach with a bevy of them, not even 

 he could have said a rude thing. 



Oxford was reached before the sun went down. Its 

 towers were seen for miles — Magdalen, Baliol, Christ 

 Church, and other familiar names. We crossed the 

 pretty little Isis, marvelling at every step, and drove up 

 the High Street to the Clarendon. 



The next day was to be Commencement, and only a 

 few rooms were to be had in the hotel, but we were dis- 

 tributed very comfortably among houses in the neigh- 

 borhood. Several hours before dinner were delightfully 

 spent in a grand round of the colleges. We peeped into 

 the great quads, walked the cloisters, and got into all 

 kinds of queer old-fashioned places. But the stroll along 

 the Isis, and past Magdalen Tower, and up the long' 



