There were young men who despised the lads who indulged in the coarse
hospitalities of wine-parties, who prided themselves in giving RECHERCHE
little French dinners. Both wine-party-givers and dinner-givers were
Snobs.
There were what used to be called 'dressy' Snobs:--Jimmy, who might
be seen at five o'clock elaborately rigged out, with a camellia in his
button-hole, glazed boots, and fresh kid-gloves twice a day;--Jessamy,
who was conspicuous for his 'jewellery,'--a young donkey, glittering
all over with chains, rings, and shirt-studs;--Jacky, who rode every day
solemnly on the Blenheim Road, in pumps and white silk stockings, with
his hair curled,--all three of whom flattered themselves they gave laws
to the University about dress--all three most odious varieties of Snobs.
Sporting Snobs of course there were, and are always--those happy beings
in whom Nature has implanted a love of slang: who loitered about the
horsekeeper's stables, and drove the London coaches--a stage in and
out--and might be seen swaggering through the courts in pink of early
mornings, and indulged in dice and blind-hookey at nights, and
never missed a race or a boxing-match; and rode flat-races, and kept
bull-terriers. Worse Snobs even than these were poor miserable wretches
who did not like hunting at all, and could not afford it, and were in
mortal fear at a two-foot ditch; but who hunted because Glenlivat and
Cinqbars hunted.
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