A Doctor Of Divinity's Hen-hunt

üne of the leading professors m uxford hates to have the subject of Ixms mentioneil ia his presence - especially black hens; and the reason of it is this: It was a íiae Sunday afternuon in suramer, a good niauy years ago, that the professor in question - who is a doctor of divinity, and who even tnen was one of the best knovvn figures in the university, enjoyad a reputationforprodigious erudition - was sunning hirnself in the High street. Now the High street in Oxford on a fine Sunday atternoon toward the end of the surnmer term, when the town is lilled with visitors who have come up to see Commemonition, is one of the most crowded and fashionable thoroughfares to be f ound in all England ; and as the doctor threadcd his waj through the well-dressed throng hisdignified air bespoke a consciousness of uucommon ruerit not unrecoguized by the world, while his face shouo wilh a mixture of pride and benevolence such a.' became so great a man in so goodly a company. It soehanced, iiowevcr, that a rampaat gast of wind -whieh iEolus ought nerer to havo allowed to roam about on suuh a suuny day - came ronipng up the street, stirriug up suirlsoi dust and fluttering the ladies' ribbon as it came; and, whetherit was the conspicuous gloss of the professor's hal that caught the wind's eye (for the vrind has an eye, or how could mariners sail in it?), or whether it was the baldness of the professor's head made his hal slide oö more easily, is uncertain, but certain it is that his was the only hal that blew off in all the crowd. Naturally the professor went off after his.hat; but everyone knows what a lot of trouble Mr. Piek wiek had tocatch hit hat when it blew off, and with all his erudition, (he professor was not unlikc Mr. Pickwick iií figure; soinstead of hitharing caught his hat, thelatterhad obtidiied acommandinglead beforeit blow bump up against the gate-post of a stablo-yard. Now was the professor's opportunity, for the hal was lying dead beat up against the gate. But iï so chanced that a solitary hen - a black one - was taking an afternoon stroll just inside the yard, and, with that. perversity which has caused bl?.ck hens to bo regarded by tha superstitious of all ages as birds of evil omen, was s frightened by the noise the hat made knocking against the wooded gate that she scutdea out into the street. As soon as she got into the confusión at finding herself amoug so many peoplc sent her in a flurry of dust and feathers- for hens always run the wrong way - but iutothe road. Onoe in the road, siie met the professor, and immediately coneluding (in spite of his clerical attire) that hi was there to hunt hei', awav she wem down the road infrontof him. Jior wa her surmise as to his inlentions so illfounded as is corumon with the panios. of hens, for tbc professor is terriblj short-sitrhted, and what with the dust and the heat and the excitement of the ehase he never detected the fraud that was bcing palmed off upon h:m, but started off at'tcr the hen as blithely as he had heretofore hunted his hat. But though a hat is hard to cateh a hen i worse; and any healthy fowl nomine digna can easily outrim a doctor of divLnity. So down the High street, with thestately tlirong of fashionnble folk all agape on oithor hand went this wors Lhan Gilpin race; and whiie the hen kieked up the dust and the professor's bald head went flashing in the sun, the unclergradaates bent out of their windows on each side of the road and cheered pnrsuer and pursued, and Jaid long odds upon the hen. And in all probability the professor would have liuntecl that hen till sundown had nota carriage come up the road to meet them, when to his horror ho saw his hat - his wellbehaved clerical hat, that had sat quietly on his head every Sunday for the last two months- take Vinga and fly cluck ing over the crowded sidewalk to seitle on a wall. And to this day tho pi-ofessor hates the man who talks to him of hens. Jcu0m M