Mr. Punch at the Seaside by J. A. Hammerton (best historical biographies txt) đź“•
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- Author: J. A. Hammerton
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How often, in a most interesting part of a novel, or in the midst of a love passage of real life,[Pg 22] in which the nurse is herself the heroine, how often, alas! is she not liable to be disturbed by the howl of a brat, with a cow's horn in his eye, a dog's teeth in his heels, or in some other awkward dilemma, which could not have arisen had the domestic Child-coop been an article of common use in the Metropolitan parks, or on the sands at the seaside?
There is something very beautiful in the comparison of helpless infancy to a brood of young chickens, with its attendant imagery of "mother's wing", and all that sort of thing, but the allegory would be rendered much more complete by the application of the hencoop to domestic purposes. We intend buying one for our own stud of piccoli—which means little pickles—and we hope to see all heads of families taking it into their heads to follow our example.
Midsummer Madness.—Going to the seaside in search of quiet.
[Pg 21]
"D'year as 'ow old Bob Osborne 'ave give up shrimpin' an took ter winklin'?"
"Well, I'm blest!"
[Pg 23]
You give them a change by taking them to the seaside—all they have to do is to look after the children—and yet they don't seem to appreciate it.
[Pg 24]
ON THE SPOTShall we like Pierpoint, to which favourite and healthy seaside resort we finally resolved to come, after a period of much indecision and uncertainty, and where we arrived, in heavy rain, in two cabs, with thirteen packages, on Saturday?
Shall we be comfortable at 62, Convolution Street, dining-room floor, two guineas and a half a week, and all and perhaps rather more than the usual extras?
Shall we like Mrs. Kittlespark?
Shall we find Kate all that a Kate ought to be?
Shall we lock everything up, or repose a noble confidence in Mrs. Kittlespark and Kate?
Shall we get to know the people in the drawing-room?
Shall we subscribe to the Pier, or pay each time we go on it?
Shall we subscribe to that most accommodating Circulating Library, Pigram's, where we can exchange our books at pleasure, but not oftener than once a day?
Shall we relax our minds with the newest novels, or give our intellects a bracing course of the best standard works?
Shall we dine late or early?
Shall we call on the Denbigh Flints, who, according to the Pierpoint Pioneer, are staying at 10, Ocean Crescent?
[Pg 26]
Shall we carefully avoid the Wilkiesons, whom the same unerring guide reports at 33, Blue Lion Street?
Shall we be satisfied with our first weekly bill?
Shall we find in it any unexpected and novel extras, such as knife-cleaning, proportion of the water-rate, loan of latch-key, &c.?
Shall we get our meat at Round's, who displays the Prince of Wales's Feathers over his shop door, and plumes himself on being "purveyor" to His Royal Highness; or at Cleaver's, who boasts of the patronage of the Hereditary Grand Duke of Seltersland?
Shall we find everything dearer here than it is at home?
Shall we be happy in our laundress?
Shall we be photographed?
Shall we, as Mrs. Kittlespark has a spare bed-room, invite our Cousin Amelia Staythorp, from whom we have expectations, and who is Constance Edith Amelia's Godmother, to come down and stay a week with us?
Shall we be praiseworthily economical, and determine not to spend a single unnecessary sixpence; or shall we, as we have come to Pierpoint, enjoy ourselves to the utmost, go in for all the amusements of the place—pier, public gardens, theatre, concerts, Oceanarium, bathing, boating, fishing, driving, riding, and rinking—make excursions, be ostentatiously liberal to the Town Band, and buy everything that is offered to us on the Beach?
A month hence, shall we be glad or sorry to leave Pierpoint, and go back to Paddington?
Postscript To a Seaside Letter.—"The sea is as smooth, and clear, as a looking-glass. The oysters might see to shave in it."
[Pg 25]
[Pg 27]
The Female Blondin Outdone! Grand Morning Performance on the Narrow Plank by the Darling ----
[Pg 28]
Mrs. T. "What a wretch you must be, T.; why don't you take me off? Don't you see I'm overtook with the tide, and I shall be drownded!"
T. "Well, then—will you promise not to kick up such a row when I stop out late of a Saturday?"
[Pg 29]
"And look here! I want you to take my friend here and myself just far enough to be up to our chins, you know, and no further!"
[Pg 30]
WHAT THE WILD WAVES ARE SAYINGThat the lodging-house keepers are on the look out for the weary Londoners and their boxes.
That the sea breezes will attract all the world from the Metropolis to the coast.
That Britons should prefer Ramsgate, Eastbourne, Scarborough, and the like, to Dieppe, Dinard, and Boulogne.
That paterfamilias should remember, when paying the bill, that a two months' letting barely compensates for an empty house during the remainder of the year.
That the shore is a place of recreation for all but the bathing-machine horse.
That the circulating libraries are stocked with superfluous copies of unknown novels waiting to be read.
That, finally, during the excursion season, 'Arry will have to be tolerated, if not exactly loved.
[Pg 31]
Time—December or January.
[Pg 32]
Mrs. Fydgetts (screaming). "My child! My child!"
Mr. Fydgetts. "What's the use of making that noise? Can't you be quiet?"
Mrs. F. "You're a brute, sir."
Mr. F. "I wish I were; for then I should be able to swim."
Mrs. F. "Mr. Fydgetts! Ain't you a-coming to help me?"
Mr. F. "No! It serves you right for bringing me down to this stupid place."
Mrs. F. "I, indeed. Why, I wanted to go to Brighton and you would come to Margate—you said it was cheaper".
Mr. F. "It's false; I said no such thing".
Mrs. F. "You did, you did!"
Mr. F. "O, woman! woman! Where do you expect to go to?"
Mrs. F. "To the bottom; unless you come and help me!"
Mr. F. "Help yourself. I'm s-i-n-k-i-n-g"—
Mrs. F. "My child! My child!"
Mr. F. (rising from the water). "Be quiet, can't you! Woo-o-m—" (the rest is inaudible, but the watery pair are saved just in time, and renew their dispute in the boat as soon as they are rescued from their perilous position).
[Pg 33]
Mabel (soliloquising). "Dear me, this relaxing climate makes even one's parasol seem too heavy to hold!"
[Pg 34]
HOLIDAY HAUNTS By Jingle Junior on the JauntI.—GREAT YARMOUTH
Why Great?—where's Little Yarmouth?—or Mid-Sized Yarmouth?—give it up—don't know—hate people who ask conundrums—feel well cured directly you get here—good trademark for dried-fish sellers, "The Perfect Cure"—if you stay a fortnight, get quite kipperish—stay a month, talk kipperish! Principal attractions—Bloaters and Rows—first eat—second see—song, "Speak gently of the Herring"—"long shore" ones splendid—kippers delicious—song, "What's a' the steer, Kipper?"—song, "Nobody's rows like our Rows"—more they are—varied—picturesque—tumbledown—paradise for painters—very narrow—capital support for native Bloater going home after dinner—odd names—Ramp, Kitty Witches—Gallon Can,[Pg 36] Conge! Fancy oneself quite the honest toiler of the sea—ought to go about in dried haddock suit—feel inclined to emulate Mr. Peggotty—run into quiet taverns—thump tables violently—say "gormed!" Whole neighbourhood recalls Ham and Little Em'ly—David, Steerforth, Mrs. Gummidge—recall ham myself—if well broiled—lunch—pleasant promenades on piers—plenty of amusement in watching the bloateric commerce—fresh water fishing in adjacent Broads, if you like—if not, let it alone—broad as it's long! The Denes—not sardines—nor rural deans—good places for exercise—plenty of antiquities—old customs—quaint traditions! Picturesque ancient taverns—capital modern hotels—stopping in one of the latter—polite waiter just appeared—dinner served—soup'll get cold—mustn't wait—never insult good cook by being unpunctual—rather let Editor go short than hurt cook's feelings[1]—so no more at present—from Yours Truly.
[Pg 38]
II.—LITTLEHAMPTON.Emphatically the Sea on the strict Q T—no bustle at railway-station—train glides in noiselessly—passengers ooze away—porters good-tempered and easy-going—like suffragan Bishops in corduroys—bless boxes—read pastorals on portmanteaux—no one in a hurry—locomotive coos softly in an undertone—fly-drivers suggest possibility of your requiring their services in a whisper! Place full—no lodgings to be had—visitors manage to efface themselves—no one about—all having early dinners—or gone to bed—or pretending to be somewhere else—a one-sided game of hide and seek—everybody hiding, nobody seeking! Seems always afternoon—dreamy gleamy sunshine—a dense quietude that you might cut in slices—no braying brass-bands—no raucous niggers—no seaside harpies—Honfleur packet only excitement—no one goes to see it start—visitors don't like to be excited! Chief amusements, Common, Sands, and Pony-chaises—first, good to roll on—second, good to stroll on—first two, gratuitous and breezy—third, inexpensive and easy—might be driven out of your mind for three-and-six—notwithstanding this, everybody presumably sane. Capital place for children—cricket for boys—shrimping for girls—bare legs—picturesque dress—not much caught—salt water good for ankles—excellent bathing—rows of bathing-tents—admirable notion! Interesting excursions—Arundel Castle—Bramber—Bognor—Chichester—Petworth House! Good things to eat—Arundel mullet—Amberley trout—Tarring figs! Delightful air—omnipotent ozone—uninterrupted quiet—just the place to recover your balance, either mental or monetary—I wish to[Pg 43] recover both—that's the reason I'm here—send cheque at once to complete cure.[2]
[1]
Don't like this sentiment. Is J. J. a Cook's Tourist?—Ed.
[2]
We have sent him the price of a third-class fare to town, with orders to return instantly: possibly this is hardly the sort of check that our friend "J. J." expected.—Ed.
III.—SCARBOROUGH.Long way from London—no matter—fast train—soon here—once here don't wish to leave—palatial hotels—every luxury—good tables d'h�te—pleasant balls—lively society! Exhilarating air—good as champagne without "morning after"—up early—go to bed late—authorities provide something better than a broken-down pier, a circulating library, and a rickety bathing-machine—authorities disburse large sums for benefit of visitors—visitors spend lots of money in town—mutual satisfaction—place crowded—capital bands—excellent theatricals—varied entertainments—right way to do it! The Spa—first discovered 1620—people been discovering it ever since—some drink it—more walk on it—lounge on it—smoke on it—flirt on it—wonderful costumes in the morning—more wonderful in the afternoon—most wonderful in the evening! North Sands—South Sands—fine old Castle well placed—picturesque old town—well-built modern terraces, squares and streets—pony-chaises—riding-horses—Lift for lazy ones! Capital excursions—Oliver's Mount—Carnelian Bay—Scalby Mill—Hackness—Wykeham—Filey! Delightful gardens—secluded seats[Pg 44] —hidden nooks—shady bowers—well-screened corners—Northern Belles—bright eyes—soft nothings—eloquent sighs—squozen hands—before you know where you are—ask papa—all up—dangerous very! Overcome by feelings—can't write any more—friend asks me to drink waters—query North Chalybeate or South Salt Well—wonder which—if in doubt try soda qualified with brandy—good people scarce—better run no risk!
Costume in Keeping.—"Of all sweet things", said Bertha, "for the seaside, give me a serge." The Ancient Mariner shook his head. He didn't see the joke.
Board and Lodging!—Landlady. "Yes, sir, the board were certingly to be a guinea a week, but I didn't know as you was a-going to bathe in the sea before breakfast and take bottles of tonic
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