Not long ago on an evening in Autumn. I sat at the large bow window in the D_Coffee_Hotel in London.
With a cigar in my mouth and a newspaper in my lap, I had been amusing myself for the greater part of the afternoon, now in poring over advertisements, now in observing the promiscuous company in the room, and now in peering throught the smoky panes into the street.
The tribe of clerks was an obvious one and here I discerned two remarkable divisions. There were the junior clerks of flash houses, young gentlemen with tight coats, bright boats, well oiled hair, and supercilious lips.
The division of the upper clerks of staunch firms, or of the "steady old fellows," it was not possible mistake. These were known by their coats and pantaloons of black brown, made to sit comfortably, with white cravats and waistcoats, broad solid looking shoes, and thick hose or gaiters.
The gamblers, of whom I descried not a few, were still more easily recognisable. They wore every variety of dress, from that of the desperate thimble rig bully, with velvet waistcoat, fancy neckerchief, gilt chains, and filagreed buttons.