Do not girls wear a Bloomer constantly till they are fourteen or fifteen, then generally commence the longer dress?
And what reason can be given but custom, which, in so many articles of dress, is ever changing?
How long is it since the dressing of ladies' hair for Court was a work of such absurd labour and nicety, that but few artists were equal to the task, and, consequently, having to attend so many customers, ladies were often obliged to have their hair dressed the day before, and sit up all night that the coiffure might remain perfect?
Or how long is it since ladies at Court used to move about like human balloons, with gowns hooped out to such an extent that it was a work of labour and dexterity to get in and out of a carriage; trains, &c., to match?
Hundreds of people, now living, can not only remember these things, but can remember also the outcry with which the proposal of change was received.

Delicacy, indeed! I should be glad to know what our worthy grandmammas would think of the delicacy of the present generation of ladies, could they but see them going about with nothing but an oyster-shell bonnet stuck at the back of their heads! Take another remnant of barbarism, handed down to us in the shape of powder.

Masters have taken care of themselves, and got rid of the abomination; so have upper servants; but so wedded are some people to the habit, that they still continue to pay a poll-tax of 1l.3s.6d.for the pleasure of powdering and plastering their footmen's heads, as if they had just escaped from a flour-mill and passed a greasy hand over their hair: will any one deny, that the money spent in the tax would promote "John's" comfort and cleanliness much more, if expended in good baths, brown Windsor, and small-tooth combs.
Pardon me, reader, I feel that there is no analogy between a Bloomer and a small-tooth comb; it is from following out the principle of recording the reflections which what I saw gave rise to, that I have thus wandered back to the old country; with your permission, we are again at Rochester, and the Bloomer has gone out of sight round the corner.
The shades of evening having closed in upon me, I retired to roost.

My head was snugly bedded in my pillow; I was in that charmingly doubtful state in which thoughts and dreams have become imperceptibly blended.
Suddenly there was a trumpet-blast, loud as a thunder-clap, followed by bells ringing as rapidly as those of the churches in Malta; as these died away, the hum of human voices and the tread of human feet along the passages followed, and then all was once more hushed in silence.

I turned over, gave the clothes an extra jerk, and again sought the land of dreams.