Both sorts of young men, mentioned in my last under the flippant names of Wiggle and Waggle, may be found in tolerable plenty, I think, in Clubs.

Wiggle and Waggle are both idle.

They come of the middle classes.
One of them very likely makes believe to be a barrister, and the other has smart apartments about Piccadilly.

They are a sort of second-chop dandies; they cannot imitate that superb listlessness of demeanour, and that admirable vacuous folly which distinguish the noble and high-born chiefs of the race; but they lead lives almost as bad (were it but for the example), and are personally quite as useless.

I am not going to arm a thunderbolt, and launch it at the beads of these little Pall Mall butterflies.