THE CHATTY DEAN.

New Zealand Mail, 30 December 1892, Page 11

THE CHATTY DEAN.

EEMINISOENCES OF DOCTOR HOLE.

Some Extracts.

(from our special correspondent.) London, November 11

Not by any means the least interesting of the many volumes of reminiscences published this winter are those of the genial Dean of Eochester, who is one of the most popular and moderate of broad Churchmen. JOHN LEECH. The master of English humour in black-and-white was for many years the Dean's dearest friend. Here is one among several anecdotes of Leech:— He was the most considerate and thoughtful of hosts. He gave to all his best. He had no chasse-cousin, no cheap wine, half-way on its road to vinegar, and so called because the French give it to poor relations when they wish to shorten their stay; and though he never pampered himself in private, nothing was too good for his friends, for whom he always produced, as Douglas Jerrold bade the waiter, * the older, not the elder, port.' I asked Viim one day, after he had given us a merry little dinner at his lodgings, No. 1, the Crescent, Scarborough, how he made such good champagne cup. ' The ingredients,' he replied, ' of which this refreshing beverage is composed, and which is highly recommended by the faculty for officers going abroad, and all other persons stopping at home, are champagne, ice, and aerated water, but, in consequence of advancing years, I always forget the seltzer.' A LETTER FROM THACKERAY. Dean Hole also knew Thackeray well, and has kept a letter he received from the great novelist. It was in reply to a request made on behalf of a friend for his autograph and in acknowledgment, also, of some game: — January 26th, 36, Onslow-square. My Dear Hole, —Did I ever write and comply with your desire to have a page of autograph ? You're welcome to a quire. Tell your friend the lady I have no pleasure higher than in writing pretty poetry and striking v of the lyre, in compliment to a gentleman whom benevolence did inspire, to send me pheasants and partridges killed with shot or wire (but whatever the way of killing them J equally admire), and who of such kind practices, I trust, will never tire. May you bring your birds down every time you fire, this, my noble sportsman, is the fond desire of W. M. Thackeray, Editor and Esquire. A LAST MEETING. The Dean saw Thackeray not long before his death. He tells us : I went with Leech, and the servant told us that he was engaged. As we were going disappointed away, Miss Thackeray opened the door and called to us. ' Of course papa will see you.' "We went up to his study, and found him sitting, more suo, with his face turned to the back of his chair, on which a small board was fastened for his writing materials. He sighed, and said he was wearied by his long monotonous work (it was nigh the end, for the last pages of ' Denis Duval' were before him); and Leech said, ' Why don't you have a holiday and take the girls to the seaside?' He made no verbal answer, but, rising slowly* plunged his

hands to the very bottom of his pockets, brought theni out, shook, replaced them, and then resumed his seat. OXFORD DAYS. Some interesting chapters are devoted to the author's recollections of the University. The following story of the lectureroom is, we fancy, new : I recall an occasion on which there was some doubt as to the locality of a city mentioned in the text, and the lecturer addressed a youth, who had just come from Shrewsbury School* ' Now, Mr Bentley, you are a pupil of our great geographer, Dr Butler, the Atlas of our age, who carries the world, not on his shoulders, but in his head' (enthusiastic applause, as always when a don condescended to a jest), ' and you can probably enlighten us as to the position of this ancient town.' ' I believe, sir,' it was promptly replied, ' that modern travellers are of opinion that the city ought to be placed about ten miles to the south-east of the spot which it now occupies on our maps.' Alas! I am constrained to add that, after receiving respectful thanks for his information, the informer told us, when we left the lecture-room, that he had never heard of the venerable city before, but that, ' for the honour of Shrewsbury and the reputation of the doctor, he felt himself bound to say something.' A MEMORABLE BOAT-RACE. The author was among the spectators at that historical boat-race when Oxford won with only seven oars, one of her crew being taken ill just before the start. The account of an eye-witness will still be read with emotion; — Leaving their invalid to the speedy restorations of the doctor, the crew returned to the river with a substitute, whom, though he was not in training, they proposed faute de mieux to put in Menzies' place. Unhappily the Cambridge captain objected to this arrangement, and refused to allow an additional oar. While the Oxonians, and, as it was reported, some of the Cambridge men, were protesting against his . decision, and the former were discussing whether they should start or not, the steward (Lord Camoys) informed them that the signal for the start would be given at the appointed time. Both the boats went down —the Cambridge with eight, and the Oxford with seven oars. I never saw an assemblage of faces on which disappointment and di?gust were so plainly and universally expressed, or heard so many exclamations, not loud, but deep, of 'mean,' 'cowardly,' 'sneaking,' 'snobbish,' etc. We mounted the drag which had conveyed us from Oxford, and was now placed on the bridge, and there .we waited to denounce and deride the imminent and inglorious victory. I shall never forget the roar of * Bravo, Oxford 1' which reached us as the boats came in view, nor the amazement which could not believe what it saw—the boats close together, and our own gradually drawing ahead until the race was over, and by half a boat's length Oxford beat Cambridge with seven oars! Had they been the Seven before Thebes, or the Seven Champions of Christendom, or the Seven Bishops who stepped out of their boat at the Tower, they could not have been cheered more heartily. A USEFUL HORSE. Always an ardent fox-hunter, the Dean has a better filled budget of sporting anecdotes than some people might expect. He quotes a letter sent by a veterinary surgeon to a young Oxonian who had commissioned him to look at a horse for sale : Sir, —I have examined the horse. The interesting family of quadrupeds to which he belongs is liable to a great number of diseases and injuries, hereditary, climatic, accidental, and I have no hesitation in stating that he has got most of them. He would be a very precious acquisition as an object lesson in our veterinary college, but I do not feel justified in commending him to you, with a view to use or recreation. A CRICKETING STORY. A once well-known cricketer figures hi the following story : George Parr's hitting, especially to leg, was, I think, the most cheerful performance I ever saw with the bat. He went to play for his village at a country match, and there was a sort of panic among the little fishes in the presence of this Leviathan. George ventured an impossible run, and was manifestly out; but when the question, ' How's that ? ' was put to the umpire, his courage failed. He hesitated, and, turning to the batsman, said, ' Now, Mestur Parr, you know a great deal more about these things than I do; what should you say'? ' 'I should say " Not out," ' was the reply. ' And so say I, Mestur Parr,' said the umpire. ' Lads, get on with your gam,' CLERICAL ANECDOTAGE. The Dean's position, of course, is sufficient guarantee that none of his stories are in the least unquotable; and we have, therefore, no hesitation in extracting what follows: — An American bishop, whose praise is in the Churches, told me that a collector in a church in San Francisco, on receiving a shake of the head instead of a dollar from the hand of one whom he knew intimately, stopped to remonstrate, and said, ' William you must give something. You've heard what the rector has said—it's your duty.' 'My money belongs to my creditors,' said William. ' And Who is your greatfcst creditor ? To Whom do you owe the most ? ' asked the collector. ' Well, that's very true,' replied William, ' but just now He's not crowding mo quite so much as the others.'

THE GOODNESS OF PROVIDENCE. After all there can be no real reason wliy the next story should not be told in a sermon: — An old Oxford friend, who had a living in Worcestershire, was visiting his parishioners when one of them* an old woman, informed him that since they had met ' she'd gone through a sight o' trouble. Her sister was dead, and there wor a worse job than that—the pig died all of a sudden; but it pleased the Lord to take 'im, and they mun bow, they raun bow.' Then the poor old lady brightened up and said, ' But there's one thing, Mestur Allen, as I can say, and ought to say; the Lord's been pratty well on my side this winter for greens I' COMPRESSED GENIUS. By way of conclusion we may give the full text of a complete dx;ama, communicated to the author by Mr Staudish, the actor: — ' The Emigrant's Eeturn.' —In one act. Scene —A cottage in Ireland. Enter Emigrant, who surveys the dwelling with emotion, and knocks at door. Door opens. Enter Inmate. Emigrant—ls my father alive ? Inmate—He is not. Emigrant —Is my mother living ? Inmate —She is not. Emigrant —Is there any whisky in this house ? Inmate —There is not. Emigrant (sighs heavily). This is indeed a woeful day 1 [Dies. Slow music. Curtain.]