, is simply
devilish, for it means that a young man is to give way to the
temptations and follow the lusts of his age. What are we to do
with the wild oats of manhood and old age--with ambition,
over-reaching the false weights, hardness, suspicion, avarice--if
the wild oats of youth are to be sown, and not burnt? What
possible distinction can be drawn between them? If we may sow the
one, why not the other?

But to get back to our story. Tom went away from Drysdale's rooms
that night (after they had sorted all the tackle, which was to
accompany the fishing expedition, to their satisfaction) in a
disturbed state of mind. He was very much annoyed at Drysdale's
way of talking, because he was getting to like the man. He was
surprised and angry at being driven more and more to the
conclusion that the worship of the golden calf was verily and
indeed rampant in Oxford--side by side, no doubt, with much that
was manly and noble, but tainting more or less the whole life of
the place. In fact, what annoyed him most was, the consciousness
that he himself was becoming an idolater. For he couldn't help
admitting that he felt much more comfortable when standing in the
quadrangles or strolling in the High Street with Drysdale in his
velvet cap, and silk gown, and faultless get-up, than when doing
the same things with Hardy in his faded old gown, shabby loose
overcoat, and well-worn trousers. He wouldn't have had Hardy
suspect the fact for all he was worth, and hoped to get over the
feeling soon; but there it was unmistakably. He wondered whether
Hardy had ever felt anything of the kind himself.

Nevertheless, these thoughts did not hinder him from sleeping
soundly, or from getting up an hour earlier than usual to go and
see Drysdale start on his expedition.

Accordingly, he was in Drysdale's rooms next morning betimes, and
assisted at the early breakfast which was going on there. Blake
was the only other man present. He was going with Drysdale, and
entrusted Tom with a message to Miller and the Captain, that he
could not pull in the boat that day, but would pay a waterman to
take his place. As soon as the gate opened, the three,
accompanied by the faithful Jack, and followed by Drysdale's
scout, bearing overcoats, a splendid water-proof apron lined with
fur, and the rods and reels, sallied out of the college, and
sought the livery stables, patronized by the men of St.
Ambrose's. Here they found a dog cart all ready in the yard, w