The confiding characters of tailors being generally acknowledged, it is almost needless to state, that the faintest indication of seediness will be fatal to your reputation; and as a presentation at the Insolvent Court is equally fashionable with that of St. James, any squeamishness respecting your inability to pay could only be looked upon as a want of moral courage upon your part, and

[Illustration:  UTTERLY UNWORTHY OF A GENTLEMAN.]

[The subject of dress in particular will form the subject of our next chapter.]

* * * * *

IF I HAD A THOUSAND A-YEAR.

A BACHELOR’S LYRIC.

  If I had a thousand a-year,
    (How my heart at the bright vision glows!)
  I should never be crusty or queer,
    But all would be couleur de rose. 
  I’d pay all my debts, though outre,
    And of duns and embarrassments clear,
  Life would pass like a bright summer day,
    If I had a thousand a-year.

  I’d have such a spicy turn-out,
    And a horse of such mettle and breed—­
  Whose points not a jockey should doubt,
    When I put him at top of his speed. 
  On the foot-board, behind me to swing,
    A tiger so small should appear,
  All the nobs should protest “’twas the thing!”
    If I had a thousand a-year.

  A villa I’d have near the Park,
    From Town just an appetite-ride;
  With fairy-like grounds, and a bark
    O’er its miniature waters to glide. 
  There oft, ’neath the pale twilight star,
    Or the moonlight unruffled and clear,
  My meerschaum I’d smoke, or cigar,
    If I had a thousand a-year.

  I’d have pictures and statues, with taste—­
    Such as ladies unblushing might view—­
  In my drawing and dining-rooms placed,
    With many a gem of virtu. 
  My study should be an affair
    The heart of a book-worm to cheer—­
  All compact, with its easy spring chair,
    If I had a thousand a-year.

  A cellar I’d have quite complete
    With wines, so recherche, well stored;
  And jovial guests often should meet
    Round my social and well-garnish’d board. 
  But I would have a favourite few,
    To my heart and my friendship more dear;
  And I’d marry—­I mustn’t tell who—­
    If I had a thousand a-year.

  With comforts so many, what more
    Could I ask of kind Fortune to grant? 
  Humph! a few olive branches—­say four—­
    As pets for my old maiden aunt. 
  Then, with health, there’d be nought to append. 
    To perfect my happiness here;
  For the utile et duloc would blend. 
    If I had a thousand a-year.

* * * * *

MY UNCLE BUCKET.