ourselves and to look at others. There the equestrians canter up and
down the Row. Such equestrians too! If foreigners take their ideas of
English riding from the Row, they must form a high opinion of our
horsemanship.

There are the loungers flocking around their friends or walking up and
down in the hope of admiration. And they get it too, for who could
help admiring such master-pieces of a tailor's skill? Are these really
the descendants of that Adam whose posterity had all to earn their
bread by the sweat of their brow? These automatons, whose only
business in life seems to be to look after pretty women and
themselves? Men are supposed to be bread winners, but they have a
very easy time of it, I think, though they generally try to make
themselves out so overworked. Go into that great centre of business,
the City, and you find everyone of these busy men out and about,
always apparently in a great hurry, never seeming to arrive at any
destination, running about and hustling each other, occasionally
meeting an acquaintance, which proves a good opportunity for one to
stand the other a "drink." A funny way men have of showing their
affection, have they not? "Ah! how de do, old fellow? Come and have a
drink," is their invariable salutation to an intimate friend. After
all it is better than the mutual kissing on the part of women, which
is the more emphatic the more they dislike one another. Men are less
demonstrative and therefore more sincere in their friendships. Anyhow
there cannot be many at work in their offices, or where could this
idle crowd come from?

In spite of their haste, though, they generally find time to stare at
any woman who crosses their path. Why should not a woman go to the
City? She has as much right there as man, and yet if she is in the