consequently entitled to bear upon their arms a stable-bucket _azure_,
between two horses current, and to wear as their crest a curry-comb in
base argent, between two wisps of hay proper, they and their
descendants, according to the law of arms. But the luxury was expensive:
a lump sum to the Heralds, and two pound two to the King's taxes; and
so, as time went on, men of large ambition, but of limited means, began
to crave for some more economical process by which they might become
esquires. They met together, and they solved the difficulty. They
conferred the title upon each other, and they charged no fee. And now
the postal authorities will tell you that the number of the "esquires"
not carrying arms, not having so much as a leg to stand on (in the
matter of legal claims), is something "awful!" But the process is so
charmingly cheap and easy that we may expect a further development. Why
should we not all be baronets? Why should we not raise ourselves, every
man of us, on his own private hoist, to the Peerage?

We have all been ladies and gentlemen so long that a little nobility,
with its attendant titles, cannot fail to make a pleasant change. Bessie
Black, who cleans the fire-irons, has for some years been Miss
Cinderella, with a chignon and a lover on Sundays; and Bill, who weeds
in the garden, is Mr. Groundsell with a betting-book and a bad cigar. A
quotation from the newspapers will exemplify the comprehensiveness of
those terms "ladies and gentlemen," which had once such definite and
narrow restrictions. A witness, giving evidence at a trial, says: "When
I see that gentleman in the hand-cuffs a-shinning and a-punching that
lady with the black eye, I says to my missus, 'Them's ways,' I says, 'as
I don't hold to'; and she makes answer to me, 'You better hadn't.'"

Let me not be misunderstood to mean that none are ladies and gentlemen
who do not eat with silver forks, or that all persons that go about in