We will now proceed to the consideration of that indispensable adjunct to a real gentleman—his purse. This little talisman, though of so much real importance, is very limited in the materials of its formation, being confined exclusively to silk. It should generally be of net work, very sparingly powdered with small beads, and of the most delicate colours, such conveying the idea that the fairy fingers of some beauteous friend had wove the tiny treasury. We have seen some of party colours, intended thereby to distinguish the separate depository of the gold and silver coin with which it is (presumed) to be stored. This arrangement we repudiate; for a true gentleman should always appear indifferent to the value of money, and affect at least an equal contempt for a sovereign as a shilling. We prefer having the meshes of the purse rather large than otherwise, as whenever it is necessary—mind, we say necessary—to exhibit it, the glittering contents shining through the interstices are never an unpleasing object of contemplation.
The purse should be used at the card-table; but never produced unless you are called upon as a loser to pay. It may then be resorted to with an air of nonchalance; and when the demand upon it has been honoured, it should be thrown carelessly upon the table, as though to indicate your almost anxiety to make a further sacrifice of its contents. Should you, however, be a winner, any exhibition of the purse might be construed into an unseemly desire of “welling,” or securing your gains, which of course must always be a matter of perfect indifference to you; and whatever advantages you obtain from chance or skill should be made obvious to every one are only destined to enrich your valet, or be beneficially expended in the refreshment of cabmen and ladies of faded virtue. In order to convey these intentions more conspicuously, should the result of an evening be in your favour, your winnings should be consigned to your waistcoat pocket; and if you have any particular desire to heighten the effect, a piece of moderate value may be left on the table.
[Illustration: A GENTLEMAN TAKING A FIRST FLOOR]
cannot do better than find an excuse for a recurrence to his purse; and then the partial exhibition of the coin alluded to above will be found to be productive of a feeling most decidedly confirmatory in the mind of the landlady that you are a true gentleman.
The same cause will produce the same effect with a tradesman whose album—we beg pardon, whose ledger—you intend honouring with your name.
You should never display your purse to a poor friend or dependant, or the sight of it might not only stimulate their cupidity, or raise their expectations to an inordinate height, but prevent you from escaping with a moderate douceur by “the kind manner in which you slipped a sovereign into their hand at parting.”
A servant should never be rewarded from a purse; it makes the fellows discontented; for if they see gold, they are never satisfied with a shilling and “I must see what can be done for you, James.”