hether you would kindly occupy
another stall."

D.D.: "Very sorry; I shall change immediately."

Old Canon settles in his stall, prayers continue, and after about ten
minutes the Canon shouts: "Beadle, tell that man to dine with me at
five."

Beadle: "Dr. A.'s compliments, and whether you would give him the
pleasure of your company at dinner at five."

D.D.: "Very sorry, I am engaged."

Beadle: "D.D. regrets he is engaged."

Old Canon: "Oh, he won't dine!"

The cathedral was very empty, and fortunately this conversation was
listened to by a small congregation only. I can, however, vouch for
it, as I was sitting close by and heard it myself.

Bodley's Library, too, was full of good stories, though many of them
do not bear repeating. When I first began to work there, Dr. Bandinell
was Bodleian Librarian. Working in the Bodleian was then like working
in one's private library. One could have as many books and MSS. as one
desired, and the six hours during which the Library was open were a
very fair allowance for such tiring work as copying and collating
Sanskrit MSS. I well remember my delight when I first sat down at my
table near one of the windows looking into the garden of Exeter. It
seemed a perfect paradise for a student. I must confess that I
slightly altered my opinion when I had to sit there every day during a
severe winter without any fire, shivering and shaking, and almost
unable to hold my pen, till kind Mr. Coxe, the sub-librarian, took
compassion on me and brought me a splendid fur that had been sent him
as a present by a Russian scholar, who had witnessed the misery of the
Librarian in this Siberian Library. Now all this is changed. The
Library is so full of students, both male and female, that one has
difficulty in finding a place, certainly in finding a quiet place; and
all sorts of regulations have been introduced which have no doubt
become necessary on account of the large number of readers, but which
have completely changed, or as some would say, improved the character
of the place. As to one improvement, however, there can be no two
opinions. The Library and the reading-room, the so-called Camera, are
now comfortably warmed, and students may in the latter place read for
twelve hours uninterruptedly, and not be turned out as we were by a
warning bell at four o'clock. And woe to you if you failed to obey the
warning. One day an unfortunate reader was so absorbed in his book
that he did not hear