es, with strong silver
frames--an eye-glass in a silver ring slung round the neck--a
traveller's knife, containing a large and a small blade, a saw, hook for
taking a stone out of a horse's shoe, turnscrew, gun-picker, tweezers,
and long corkscrew--galoches or paraloses--your own knife and fork, and
spoon--a Welsh wig--a spare hat--umbrella--two great-coats, one for cool
and fair weather (_i.e._ between 45 deg. and 55 deg. of Fahrenheit), and another
for cold and foul weather, of broad cloth, lined with fur, and
denominated a "dreadnought."

Such are a few of the articles with which every sensible traveller will
provide himself before leaving _Dulce Domum_ to brave the perils of a
Tour through the Hop-districts.

"If circumstances compel you," continues the Doctor, "to ride on the
outside of a coach, put on two shirts and two pair of stockings, turn up
the collar of your great-coat, and tie a handkerchief round it, and have
plenty of dry straw to set your feet on."

In our younger days we used to ride a pretty considerable deal on the
outside of coaches, and much hardship did we endure before we hit on the
discovery above promulgated. We once rode outside from Edinburgh to
London, in winter, without a great-coat, in nankeen trousers _sans_
drawers, and all other articles of our dress thin and light in
proportion. That we are alive at this day, is no less singular than
true--no more true than singular. We have known ourselves so firmly
frozen to the leathern ceiling of the mail-coach, that it required the
united strength of coachman, guard, and the other three outsides, to
separate us from the vehicle, to which we adhered as part and parcel.
All at once the device of the double shirt flashed upon us--and it
underwent signal improvements before we reduced the theory to practice.
For, first, we endued ourselves with a leather shirt--then with a
flannel one--and then, in regular succession, with three linen shirts.
This concluded the Series of Shirts. Then commenced the waistcoats. A
plain woollen waistcoat without buttons--with hooks and eyes--took the
lead, and kept it; it was closely pressed by what is, in common palaver,
called an under-waistcoat--the body being flannel, the breast-edges
bearing a pretty pattern of stripes or bars--then came a natty red
waistcoat, of which we were particularly proud, and of which the effect
on landlady, bar-maid, and chamber-maid, we remember was
irresistible--and, fourthly and final