[3] This expression is not the exclusive property of Oxford,
Cambridge, or the Horse Guards. See Shakspeare's Henry VIII, where
the Duke of Buckingham says of Wolsey, "He _bores_ me with some
trick;" like another great man, the Cardinal must have been a great
bore.

[4] Towards the close of the last opera season we heard a ludicrous
mistake. One of these fellows bawled out "the Duke of Grafton's
carriage;" "No," replied the gentleman, smiling, and correcting the
officious cadman, who had caught at the noble euphony, "Mr.
Crafter's."

That we are attached to wet weather, a single comparison with our
neighbours will abundantly prove. A Frenchman seldom stirs abroad without
his _parapluie_; notwithstanding he is, compared with an Englishman, an
_al fresco_ animal, eating, drinking, dancing, reading, and seeing
plays--all out of doors. A shower is more effectual in clearing the streets
of Paris than those of London. People flock into _cafés_, the arcades of
the Palais Royal, and splendid covered passages; and as soon as the rain
ceases, scores of planks are thrown across the gutters in the _centre_ of
the streets, which species of _pontooning_ is rewarded by the sous and
centimes of the passengers. In Switzerland too, where the annual fall of
rain is 40 inches, the streets are always washed clean, an effect which is
admirably represented in the view of Unterseen, now exhibiting at the
_Diorama_. But in Peru, the Andes intercept the clouds, and the constant
heat over sandy deserts prevents clouds from forming, so that there is no
rain. Here it never shines but it burns.

_Wet-weather in the country_ is, however, a still greater infliction upon