CHAPTER XIV.
DUBLIN.
No sooner had I arrived in Dublin than my first care was to present myself to Dr.Mooney, by whom I was received in the most cordial manner.

In fact, in my utter ignorance of such persons, I had imagined a college fellow to be a character necessarily severe and unbending; and as the only two very great people I had ever seen in my life were the Archbishop of Tuam and the chief-baron when on circuit, I pictured to myself that a university fellow was, in all probability, a cross between the two, and feared him accordingly.
The doctor read over my uncle's letter attentively, invited me to partake of his breakfast, and then entered upon something like an account of the life before me; for which Sir Harry Boyle had, however, in some degree prepared me.
"Your uncle, I find, wishes you to live in college,--perhaps it is better, too,--so that I must look out for chambers for you.

Let me see: it will be rather difficult, just now, to find them." Here he fell for some moments into a musing fit, and merely muttered a few broken sentences, as: "To be sure, if other chambers could be had--but then--and after all, perhaps, as he is young--besides, Frank will certainly be expelled before long, and then he will have them all to himself.

I say, O'Malley, I believe I must quarter you for the present with a rather wild companion; but as your uncle says you're a prudent fellow,"-- here he smiled very much, as if my uncle had not said any such thing,--"why, you must only take the better care of yourself until we can make some better arrangement.

My pupil, Frank Webber, is at this moment in want of a 'chum,' as the phrase is,--his last three having only been domesticated with him for as many weeks; so that until we find you a more quiet resting-place, you may take up your abode with him." During breakfast, the doctor proceeded to inform me that my destined companion was a young man of excellent family and good fortune who, with very considerable talents and acquirements, preferred a life of rackety and careless dissipation to prospects of great success in public life, which his connection and family might have secured for him.