But really this is a digression, which the importance of the correlative subject has drawn us into. “Let us return to our—mutton.” (We might have said our _veal_, were it not that the idea of dandies’ legs and calves are incongruous and unnatural.) It is an inflexible rule in the making up of an exquisite, that there shall be no calves to his legs. The mere osteological peculiarities of that part of the frame are to be preserved, and the epidermis must clasp the attenuated limb, without embracing a superfluity of muscle similar to that which we see in the lower limbs of the statues of Hercules. Hence it follows that the heel of a true dandy is expected to protrude an inch at least beyond what, under happier circumstances, would be the calf of his leg. There is really no difference between the formation of the lower pedalities of a pure dandy, and those of a pure Ethiopian. In this anatomical fact lies the great difficulty in the way of modern “squirts.” The heel unfortunately requires a greater opening at the top of the boot than can be filled up by the upper part of the leg when the article is upon the foot. This is a very distressing difficulty. The pantaloons are expected to hug the leg as tightly as possible, so that the thinness of the “trotters” may be revealed in all their natural beauty. But an obstacle exists in the shape of an inch or two of superfluous leather at the top of the boot, which will have a tendency to give the limb an appearance of greater circumference than nature or fashion permits. This trouble is really of disgusting importance. How do the dandies manage, then, to produce those thin legs, the slightness of which is so strikingly graceful? The world has long wondered over this subject, and it was not until lately that a true philosopher revealed the mystery. He asserts that after fops get into boots and unmentionables, they turn up the latter until they get a fair purchase on the leather inconveniencies. Then, with broad bandages they swathe their legs and the upper part of their boots quite carefully, until the superfluous leather is bound tightly down, and there is a comparatively smooth surface all the way down the limb. After having got his trowsers pulled down, the fop is ready for a promenade upon Chestnut street, or a conquest in a drawing-room. In the former exercise he gets along as well as can be expected, being very careful in his mincing steps lest an unlucky rip should damage the integrity of his apparel. In the latter situation he is often put to great inconvenience. When sitting down, the unwhisperables are, by the disposition of his body, drawn a considerable distance above the ankle. To get them down again is a matter which no thorough dandy can accomplish. If he were to bend to do it, the consequence would be disastrous. He therefore takes his leave of the ladies with pantaloons half-way up to the knee, and, stopping in the entry, exclaims—“Wait-ah! wait-ah! hea-ah, fell-ah, assist me! Come