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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
27
For
the
rest,
he
had
many
accomplishments.
He
was
adroit
in
the
killing
of
all
birds
and
fishes,
stags
and
foxes.
He
played
polo,
cricket,
racquets,
chess,
and
billiards
as
well
as
such
things
can
be
played.
He
was
fluent
in
all
modern
languages,
had
a
very
real
talent
in
water-colour,
and
was
accounted,
by
those
who
had
had
the
privilege
of
hearing
him,
the
best
amateur
pianist
on
this
side
of
the
Tweed.
Little
wonder,
then,
that
he
was
idolised
by
the
undergraduates
of
his
day.
He
did
not,
however,
honour
many
of
them
with
his
friendship.
He
had
a
theoretic
liking
for
them
as
a
class,
as
the
“young
barbarians
all
at
play”
in
that
little
antique
city;
but
individually
they
jarred
on
him,
and
he
saw
little
of
them.
Yet
he
sympathised
with
them
always,
and,
on
occasion,
would
actively
take
their
part
against
the
dons.
In
the
middle
of
his
second
year,
he
had
gone
so
far
that
a
College
Meeting
had
to
be
held,
and
he
was
sent
down
for
the
rest
of
term.
The
Warden
placed
his
own
landau
at
the
disposal
of
the
illustrious
young
exile,
who
therein
was
driven
to
the
station,
followed
by
a
long,
vociferous
procession
of
undergraduates
in
cabs.
Now,
it
happened
that
this
was
a
time
of
political
excitement
in
London.
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