THE GENTLEMAN'S OWN BOOK.

We will now proceed to the consideration of that indispensable adjunct to

a real gentleman--his purse. This little talisman, though of so much real

importance, is very limited in the materials of its formation, being

confined exclusively to silk. It should generally be of net work, very

sparingly powdered with small beads, and of the most delicate colours,

such conveying the idea that the fairy fingers of some beauteous friend

had wove the tiny treasury. We have seen some of party colours, intended

thereby to distinguish the separate depository of the gold and silver coin

with which it is (presumed) to be stored. This arrangement we repudiate;

for a true gentleman should always appear indifferent to the value of

money, and affect at least an equal contempt for a sovereign as a

shilling. We prefer having the meshes of the purse rather large than

otherwise, as whenever it is necessary--mind, we say necessary--to exhibit

it, the glittering contents shining through the interstices are never an

unpleasing object of contemplation.

The purse should be used at the card-table; but never produced unless you

are called upon as a loser to _pay_. It may then be resorted to with an

air of _nonchalance;_ and when the demand upon it has been honoured, it

should be thrown carelessly upon the table, as though to indicate your

_almost_ anxiety to make a further sacrifice of its contents. Should you,

however, be a winner, any exhibition of the purse might be construed into

an unseemly desire of "welling," or securing your gains, which of course

must always be a matter of perfect indifference to you; and whatever

advantages you obtain from chance or skill should be made obvious to every

one are only destined to enrich your valet, or be beneficially expended in

the refreshment of cabmen and ladies of faded virtue. In order to convey

these intentions more conspicuously, should the result of an evening be in

your favour, your winnings should be consigned to your waistcoat pocket;

and if you have any particular desire to heighten the effect, a piece of

moderate value may be left on the table.

[Illustration: A GENTLEMAN TAKING A FIRST FLOOR]

cannot do better than find an excuse for a recurrence to his purse; and

then the partial exhibition of the coin alluded to above will be found to

be productive of a feeling most decidedly confirmatory in the mind of the

landlady that you are a true gentleman.

The same cause will produce the same effect with a tradesman whose

album--we beg pardon, whose ledger--you intend honouring with your name.

You should never display your purse to a poor friend or dependant, or the

sight of it might not only stimulate their cupidity, or raise their

expectations to an inordinate height, but prevent you from escaping with a

moderate _douceur_ by "the kind manner in which you slipped a sovereign

into their hand at parting."

A servant should never be rewarded from a purse; it makes the fellows

discontented; for if they see gold, they are never satisfied with a

shilling and "I must see what can be done for you, James."

Should you be fortunate enough to break a policeman's head, or drive over

an old woman, you will find that your purse will not only add to the

_éclat_ of the transaction, but most materially assist the magistrate

before whom you may be taken in determining that the case is very

trifling, and that a fine of 5s. will amply excuse you from the effects of

that polite epidemic known _vulgo_ as drunkenness. There cannot be a

greater proof of the advantages of a purse than the preceding instance,

for we have known numerous cases in which the symptoms have been precisely

the same, but the treatment diametrically opposite, owing to the absence

of that incontrovertible evidence to character--the purse.

None but a _parvenu_ would carry his money loose; and we know of nothing

more certain to ensure an early delivery of your small account than being

detected by a creditor in the act of hunting a sovereign into the corner

of your pocket.

We have known tailors, bootmakers, hatters, hosiers,

livery-stable-keepers, &c., grow remarkably noisy when refused assistance

to meet heavy payments, which are continually coming due at most

inconvenient seasons; and when repeated denials have failed to silence

them, the _exhibition only_ of the purse has procured the desired

effect,--we presume, by inspiring the idea that you have the means to pay,

but are eccentric in your views of credit--thus producing with the most

importunate dun

[Illustration: A BRILLIANT TERMINATION.]

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, November 13, 1841 · 第 15 / 73 题