Never was such a prime bit of gig! They lay stunn'd with the fall--broken lanterns, staves, rattles, Welsh wigs, night-caps and old hats, were scattered about in abundance, while grunting, growling, and swearing was heard in all directions.

One old buck got his jaw-bone broken; another staved in two of his crazy timbers, that is to say, broke a couple of ribs; a third bled from the nose like a pig; a fourth squinted admirably from a pair of painted peepers; their numbers however increasing, we divided our forces and marched in opposite directions; one party sallied along Bond Street, nailed up a snoosy Charley in his box, and bolted with his lantern: the others were not so fortunate, for A----'s deputy cushion thumper, the young one, and the Baronet's brother, got safely lodged in St.James's Watch-house.
"Broad daylight now glar'd upon us--Lavender retired comfortably upon Madame la Comtesse in the Bench; Sir M.M.was found chanting Cannons with some Wood nymphs not an hundred and fifty miles off from Leicester Square; I had the President to carry home on my shoulders, bundled to bed, and there I lay sick for four and twenty hours, when a little inspiring Coniac brought ~221~~me to my senses again, and now I am ready and ripe for another spree.

Stap my vitals if there isn't Lavender--my dear fellow, adieu--remember me to Charley Sparkle when you see him--by, by." And with this he sprung across the road, leaving Bob and his Cousin to comment at leisure upon his folly.
They were however soon aroused from their reflections by perceiving a Groom in livery advancing rapidly towards them, followed by a curricle, moving at the rate of full nine miles per hour.
"Who have we here ?" said Bob.
"A character well known," said Tom; "that is Lady L----, a dashing female whip of the first order--mark how she manages her tits--take a peep at her costume and learn while you look." "More than one steed must Delia's empire feel Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel; And as she guides it through th' admiring throng, With what an air she smacks the silken thong!" The Lady had a small round riding-hat, of black beaver, and sat in the true attitude of a coachman--wrists pliant, elbows square, she handled her whip in a scientific manner; and had not Tom declared her sex, Bob would hardly have discovered it from her outward appearance.

She was approaching them at a brisk trot, greeting her numerous acquaintance as she passed with familiar nods, at each giving her horses an additional touch, and pursing up her lips to accelerate their speed; indeed, she was so intent upon the management of her reins, and her eyes so fixed upon her cattle, that there was no time for more than a sort of sidelong glance of recognition; and every additional smack of the whip seem'd to say, "_Here I come--that's your sort_." Her whole manner indeed was very similar to what may be witnessed in Stage-coachmen, Hackneymen, and fashionable Ruffians, who appear to think that all merit consists in copying them when they tip a brother whip the go-by, or almost graze the wheel of a Johnny-raw, and turn round with a grin of self-approbation, as much as to say--"_What d'ye think of that now, eh f--there's a touch for you--lord, what a flat you must be!_" Bob gazed with wonder and astonishment as she passed.
"How ?" said he, "do the ladies of London frequently take the whip?
--" ~222~~"-- Hand of their husbands as well as their horses," replied Tom--"often enough, be assured." "But how, in the name of wonder, do they learn to drive in this style ?" "Easily enough; inclination and determination will accomplish their objects.

Why, among the softer sex, we have female Anatomists--female Students in Natural History--Sculptors, and Mechanics of all descriptions--Shoe-makers and Match-makers--and why not Charioteers ?" "Nay, I am not asking why; but as it appears rather out of the common way, I confess my ignorance has excited my curiosity on a subject which seems somewhat out of nature." "I have before told you, Nature has nothing to do with Real Life in London." "And yet," continued Bob, "we are told, and I cannot help confessing the truth of the assertion, with respect to the ladies, that "-- --Loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is, when unadorned, adorn'd the most," This certainly implies a natural or native grace." "Pshaw," said Dashall, "that was according to the Old school; such doctrines are completely exploded now-a-days, for Fashion is at variance with Nature in all her walks; hence, driving is considered one of the accomplishments necessary to be acquired by the female sex in high life, by which an estimate of character may be formed: for instance--if a lady take the reins of her husband, her brother, or a lover, it is strongly indicative of assuming the mastery; but should she have no courage or muscular strength, and pays no attention to the art of governing and guiding her cattle, it is plain that she will become no driver, no whip, and may daily run the risk of breaking the necks of herself and friends.
If however she should excel in this study, she immediately becomes masculine and severe, and she punishes, when occasion requires, every animal within the reach of her lash--acquires an ungraceful attitude and manner--heats her complexion by over exertion--sacrifices her softness to accomplish her intentions--runs a risk of having hard hands, and perhaps a hard heart: at all events she gains unfeminine habits, and ~223~~such as are found very difficult to get rid of, and prides herself on being the go, the gaze, the gape, the stare of all who see her." "A very admirable, and no doubt equally happy state," quoth Bob, half interrupting him.
"If she learn the art of driving from the family coachman, it cannot be doubted but such tuition is more than likely to give her additional grace, and to teach her all that is polite; and then the pleasure of such company whilst superintending her studies, must tend to improve her mind; the freedom of these teachers of coachmanship, and the language peculiar to themselves, at first perhaps not altogether agreeable, is gradually worn away by the pride of becoming an accomplished whip--to know how to _turn a corner in style--tickle Snarler in the ear--cut up the yelper--take out a fly's eye in bang-up twig_." "Excellent! indeed," cried Bob, charmed with Dashall's irony, and willing to provoke it farther; "and pray, when this art of driving is thoroughly learned, what does it tend to but a waste of time, a masculine enjoyment, and a loss of feminine character--of that sweet, soft and overpowering submission to and reliance on the other sex, which, whilst it demands our protection and assistance, arouses our dearest sympathies--our best interests--attaches, enraptures, and subdues us ?" "Nonsense," continued Tom, "you might ask such questions for a month--who cares about these submissions and reliances--protections and sympathies--they are not known, at least it is very unfashionable to acknowledge their existence.