Of Blades and Bladery

The Blade is not so much a culture as a temperament, and Bladery--if the
thing may have the name--a code of sentiments rather than a ritual. It
is the rococo school of behaviour, the flamboyant gentleman, the
gargoyle life. The Blade is the tribute innocence pays to vice. He may
look like a devil and belong to a church. And the clothing of the Blade,
being symbolical, is a very important part of him. It must show not only
a certain tastiness, but also decision in the accent, courage in the
pattern, and a Dudley Hardihood of outline. A Blade must needs take the
colour of his social standing, but all Blades have the same essential
qualities. And all Blades have this quality, that they despise and
contemn other Blades from the top downward. (But where the bottommost
Blade comes no man can tell.)

A well-bred Blade--though he be a duke--tends to wear his hat tilted a
little over the right eyebrow, and a piece of hair is pulled
coquettishly down just below the brim. His collar is high, and a very
large bow is worn slightly askew. This may be either cream-coloured or
deep blue, with spots of white, or it may be red, or buff, but not
green, because of badinage. The Blade of the middle class displays a
fine gold watch-chain, and his jacket and vest may be of a rough black
cloth or blue serge. The trousering may be of a suit with the jacket, or
tasteful, and the shoes must be long. The betting man, adorned, is a
perfect Blade. There is often a large and ornamental stick, which is
invariably carried head downwards. And note, that the born Blade
instinctively avoids any narrowness of pose. In walking he thrusts out
his shoulders, elbows, and knees, and it is rather the thing to
dominate a sphere of influence beyond this by swinging his stick. At
first the beginner will find this weapon a little apt to slip from the
hand and cause inconvenience to the general public; but he must not mind
that. After a few such misadventures he will acquire dexterity.

All Blades smoke--publicly at least. To smoke a white meerschaum in the
streets, however, is very inferior form. The proper smoking is a briar,
and, remember, it is not smart to have a new pipe. So soon as he buys
it, the Blade takes his pipe home, puts it on a glowing fire to burn the
rim, scrapes this away, burns it again, and so on until it looks a
sullen desperado of a pipe--a pipe with a wild past. Sometimes he cannot
smoke a pipe. In this case he may--for his stomach's sake--smoke a
cigarette. And, besides, there is something cynical about a cigarette.
For the very young Blade there are certain makes of cigarette that burn
well--they are mixed with nitre--and these may be smoked by holding them
in the left hand and idly swinging them to and fro in the air. If it