The Coackino- Club. 



^» 



weather, instigated by a Tory Government (at least, 

 so it is believed by a certain class of old women), 

 who, having successfully baffled the enemies of their 

 country, are now stirring up an elemental strife as a 

 means of distracting attention from more serious 

 matters. It is an Englishman's privilege to grumble ; 

 and, even if it were not, an excuse might be offered at 

 the present crisis of the season. After seven months 

 of severe, even savage weather, we seem as far from 

 sunshine as ever, our belief in the traditional glories 

 of springtide is utterly destroyed, and fear of the 

 gloomy predictions that such a state of things will 

 continue until Midsummer, terrifies even strong men. 

 But how about the trade of London? What is to 

 become of milliners, mantua-makers, tailors (the 

 hatters must be having a good time of it), drapers, 

 and all the various businesses that depend upon 

 fashion ? How can the fair one exhibit her perfec- 

 tions at a cricket match, play at lawn-tennis, attend 

 a garden party, pose herself gracefully in a croquet 

 encounter, watch the exertions of her many admirers 

 in a struggle for superiority in a polo match, or 

 visit those pleasant places, those rural retreats, the 

 Orleans Club, Hurlingham, or its rival, the Ranelagh,. 

 in such tempestuous times as these ! Fancy seeing 

 the object of your adoration walking on the verdant 

 lawns at these delightful places % It absolutely 

 makes one shiver at the idea of possible cough or 

 cold in the head (colds have an unbecoming effect 

 on noses, be it remarked), and other ills that flesh is 

 heir to. Ah ! it is a bad time indeed for the young 

 beauty who has made her cUbiit in the fashionable 



