d, inasmuch as the most prosperous linen-draper could never wish
to have less linen on hand. As we are describing the _genus_ in
_black_ and _white_, we may as well state at once, _those_
are the colours generally casing the throats from whence their sweet
sounds issue; these _ties_ are garnished with union pins, whose
strong _mosaic tendency_ would, in the Catholic days of Spain (had
they been residents), have consigned them to the lowest dungeons of the
Inquisition, and favoured them with an exit from this breathing world,
amid all the uncomfortable pomp of an _auto-da-fe_.

It is a fact on record, that no one of the body ever had a cold in his
head; and this peculiarity, we presume, exempts them from carrying
pocket-handkerchiefs, a superfluity we never witnessed in their hands,
though they indulge in snuff-boxes which assume the miniture form of
French plum-cases, richly embossed, with something round the edges about
as much in proportion to _the box_ as _eighteen insides_ are to
a small tax-cart. This testimonial is generally (as the engraved
inscription purports) given by "several gentlemen" (who are,
unfortunately, in these instances, always anonymous--which circumstance,
as they are invariably described as "admirers of talent," is much to be
regretted, and, we trust, will soon be rectified). We believe, like the
immortal Jack Falstaff, they were each born at four o'clock of the
morning, with a bald head, and something of a round belly; certain it is,
they are universally thin in the hair, and exhibit strong manifestation of
obesity.

The further marks of identity consist in a ring very variously chased, and
the infallible insignia of a tuning-fork: without this no professional
singer does or can exist. The thing has been tried, and found a failure.
Its uses are remarkable and various: like the "death's-head and
cross-bones" of the pirates, or the wand, globe, and beard of the
conjuror, it is their sure and unvarying sign. We have in our mind's eye
one of the species even now--we see him coquetting with the fork,
compressing it with gentle fondness, and then (that all senses may be
called into requisition) resting it against his eye-tooth to catch the
proper tone. Should this be the prelude to his own professional
performance, we see it returned, with a look of profound wisdom, to the
right-hand depository of the nondescript and imaginary velvet
double-breaster--we follow his eyes, till, with peculiar fascinatio