CHAPTER XVII.
TRINITY COLLEGE .-- A LECTURE.
I had not been many weeks a resident of Old Trinity ere the flattering reputation my chum, Mr.Francis Webber, had acquired, extended also to myself; and by universal consent, we were acknowledged the most riotous, ill-conducted, disorderly men on the books of the university.

Were the lamps of the squares extinguished, and the college left in total darkness, we were summoned before the dean; was the vice-provost serenaded with a chorus of trombones and French horns, to our taste in music was the attention ascribed; did a sudden alarm of fire disturb the congregation at morning chapel, Messrs.

Webber and O'Malley were brought before the board,--and I must do them the justice to say that the most trifling circumstantial evidence was ever sufficient to bring a conviction.

Reading men avoided the building where we resided as they would have done the plague.

Our doors, like those of a certain classic precinct commemorated by a Latin writer, lay open night and day, while mustached dragoons, knowingly dressed four-in-hand men, fox-hunters in pink, issuing forth to the Dubber or returning splashed from a run with the Kildare hounds, were everlastingly seen passing and repassing.