“Nonsense,” continued Tom, “you might ask such questions for a month--who cares about these submissions and reliances--protections and sympathies--they are not known, at least it is very unfashionable to acknowledge their existence. Why I have known ladies so infatuated and affected by an inordinate love of charioteering, that it has completely altered them, not only as to dress, but manners and feeling, till at length they have become more at home in the stable than the drawing-room; and some, that are so different when dressed for dinner, that the driving habiliments appear like complete masquerade disguises. Indeed, any thing that is natural is considered quite out of nature; and this affectation is not wholly confined to the higher circles, for in the City even the men and the women seem to have changed places. “Man-milliners and mantua-makers swarm With clumsy hands to deck the female form-- With brawny limbs to fit fine ladies' shapes, Or measure out their ribbons, lace and tapes; Or their rude eye the bosom's swell surveys, To cut out corsets or to stitch their stays; Or making essences and soft perfume, Or paint, to give the pallid cheek fresh bloom; Or with hot irons, combs, and frizzling skill, On ladies' heads their daily task fulfil; Or, deeply versed in culinary arts, Are kneading pasty, making pies and tarts; Or, clad in motley coat, the footman neat Is dangling after Miss with shuffling feet, Bearing in state to church her book of pray'r, Or the light pocket she disdains to wear;{1} Or in a parlour snug, 'the powdered lout The tea and bread and butter hands about. Where are the women, whose less nervous hands Might fit these lighter tasks, which pride demands? Some feel the scorn that poverty attends, Or pine in meek dépendance on their friends; Some patient ply the needle day by day, Poor half-paid seamsters, wasting life away; Some drudge in menial, dirty, ceaseless toil, Bear market loads, or grovelling weed the soil; Some walk abroad, a nuisance where they go, And snatch from infamy the bread of woe.” “It is a strange sort of infatuation, this fashion,” said Bob, “and it is much to be regretted it should operate so much to the injury of the fair--” “Do you see that young man on the opposite side of the way,” inquired Dashall,(stopping him short) “in nankin breeches and jockey-boots?” “I do,” replied Tallyho; “and pray who is he?”