A DKIVING GIOVANNI. t 1 



take a look at the wearer, who fully realised 

 the description of the swell-dragsraan immor- 

 talised in song by the late Hon. Fitzroy Stan- 

 hope. He was a well-dressed, natty-looking 

 fellow, decked out in a neat dark brown coat, 

 white hat, corduroy breeches, well polished 

 boots, cloth leggings, and a splendid pair of 

 double-sewn buckskin gloves. A huge pair of 

 whiskers, shaped like a mutton chop, fringed 

 the borders of each cheek, and were (as a 

 costerraonger in Knightsbridge irreverently re- 

 marked) large enough to pad a cart-saddle. In 

 the course of conversation he invariably indulged 

 the outside passengers with snatches of the 

 popular ditties of the da}^, "Oh, say not woman's 

 heart is bought," " Love has Eyes," " Will 

 you come to the bower ?" " Savourneen Dee- 

 lish," " The Thorn," and •' Sally in our 

 Alley." 



I soon discovered, from his manners and 

 remarks, that my new coaching ally was a pro- 

 digious favourite with the fair sex, and from 

 the roguish leer that he gave the respective 

 damsels at the different inns and public-houses, 

 I fancied he did not quite merit the confidence 

 his wife placed in him. Indeed, when we 

 stopped to change horses at Slough, I saw the 



