Mr. Punch on Tour: The Humour of Travel at Home and Abroad by J. A. Hammerton (best mobile ebook reader txt) đź“•
Read free book «Mr. Punch on Tour: The Humour of Travel at Home and Abroad by J. A. Hammerton (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: J. A. Hammerton
Read book online «Mr. Punch on Tour: The Humour of Travel at Home and Abroad by J. A. Hammerton (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📕». Author - J. A. Hammerton
Force Of Habit.—Recently two bankers met abroad. They at once began to compare notes.
New Name for Sea-Sickness.—Mal de Little Mary.
Mrs. Ramsbotham wants to know whether the inhabitants of the Fiji Islands are called the Fijits.
[Pg 77]
Scene—Highland Gathering in the Antipodes.
"Well, my little man, so you're Scotch, eh?"
"Nae, nae, a'am nae Scotch, but ma pairents is."
[Pg 78]
A SENSATIONAL DRAMA IN THREE ACTS AND FIVE TABLEAUX. (Showing how he got in for it and how he came out of it rather the worse for "wear")Mr. Joggles, having carefully selected a retired spot deposited his clothes in a cave, sees a little way below him a sparkling pool fed by a torrent from above—a natural shower bath, into which he will joyfully descend.
This is what he expected
[Pg 79]
But a picnic party having terminated their luncheon, unwittingly rearrange matters[Pg 80]
FOR A CHANGEFagged and jaded, Daphne mine,
For our annual change I pine.
Once again the problem's here,
Whither we shall go this year.
Let who will seek lake or moor,
"Bad" or hydro, spa or "kur,"
Switzerland and Germany
Have no charms for you and me.
There while restless tourists haste,
"Good old Margate" suits our taste.
On its old familiar ground
We will make the usual round.
Meet Smith, Robinson and Brown,
Whom we daily see in town;
Hear the niggers or the bands
On the pier, the fort, the sands;
Revel in each well-known joy,
Then, when these enchantments cloy,
And for change again we yearn,
Why, then, Daphne, we'll return.
The number of stowaways who secrete themselves in big vessels is becoming a growing evil. A Norwegian barquantine reached Plymouth on Friday with an entire cargo of hides.
A very Revolting Place.—Brazil.
[Pg 81]
French Tourist, on a visit to London for the first time, makes a note in his pocket-book of the name of the street in which his hotel is situated.
� Berlin.—Although Berlin is "on the Spree," its cheerfulness is considerably discounted by "the Oder" in its vicinity.
[Pg 82]
Overheard at Chamonix.—Stout British Matron, (in a broad British accent, to a slim diligence driver). �tes-vous la diligence?
Driver. Non, madame, mais j'en suis le cocher.
Matron (with conviction). C'est la m�me chose; gardez pour moi trois places dans votre int�rieur demain.
[Pg 83]
Toper Major (over their third bottle of a Grand Vin). "I shay, ol' f'ler, neksh year thinksh'll go see ex'bishun at Ph-Phipp at Philup-popple——"
Toper Minor. "I know, ol' f'ler. You mean Philipoppoppo—poppo——"
Toper Major. "Thatsh it—shame place. Have 'nother bo'l!"
[They drink.
NOT SO PRETTY IN ENGLISH (Three Friends meet at Monte Carlo.)First Friend. No, I'm not staying here. Just run over from Canes.
Second F. And I from Fat.
Third F. And I'm with my people at Chin.
[We presume the travellers referred to Cannes, Grasse, and Menton.—Ed.]
[Pg 84]
A WHITSUN HOLIDAY. (A Page from a Modern Diary.)Monday.—Up with the lark. Breakfast not ready. Spent my spare time in closing the boxes. Got the family into the train with difficulty. Devoted the day to travelling. Reached our destination tired out. Glad to get to bed.
Tuesday.—Up with the lark. Did the sights. Had no time to look at anything, as I had to attend to the tickets. Saw all the museums. My party coming out when I had got the catalogues. So managed our visits that there was no opportunity of discussing meals. Got back in time for table d'h�te, but preferred sleep to food. Went to bed.
Wednesday.—Up with the lark. Off again travelling. On the road all day. Having to fit in the corresponding trains, had no leisure for meals. Arrived at our new resting-place late at night. So off as quickly as possible to bed.
Thursday.—Up with the lark. Spent the morning in sight-seeing under the customary conditions. Waited upon the family. Looked after the catalogues and umbrellas. Food again at a[Pg 86] discount. Dispensed with dinner. Glad to get to bed.
Friday.—Up with the lark. Time to return. Back again by a train. No food. No rest. Halfway home. Arrived in time to see the lights being put out. Off to bed.
Saturday.—Up with the lark. Continued my journey post-haste. Wrote up my diary. Find that I have got over several hundreds of miles; but for the life of me cannot remember anything that I have seen. Don't recollect any square meal. Back again, tired, and only pleased to be in bed.
Sunday.—Sleeping.
Monday.—Up with the lark. Recovered from my week's "rest," and glad to get back again to work.
BY A SEA-SICK PASSENGERMare! Mare!
Most contrary,
Why do you tumble so?
While you heave and swell
One can't feel well,
And—I think I'll go below!
Motto for American Millionairesses.—
"Marry, come up!"
[Pg 85]
Scientific and Nervous Visitor at Country Hotel. "I suppose there's no 'ptomaine' in this pie?"
Waiter (equal to the occasion). "No, sir. We never puts that in unless specially ordered!"
[Pg 87]
Tourist (in background). "I say! Percy! We'd better be going now—unless you can see anything striking from where you are!"
[Pg 88]
Scene—Railway Refreshment Room. Thermometer 90� in the Shade.
Waiter (to traveller taking tea). "Beg pardon, sir, I shouldn't recommend that milk, sir; leastways not for drinking purposes."
[Pg 89]
Romantic Bride (ecstatically). "Such a waste of waters almost appals me!"
Prudent Husband (fondly). "What a dear little economist it is!"
[Pg 90]
Tourist. "Wasn't there a great battle fought about here?"
Village Dame. "Ah, I do mind it when I were a gell, I do. They was——"
Tourist. "But, my good woman, that was nearly six hundred years ago!"
Village Dame (unabashed). "Dear, dear! How time do fly!"
[Pg 91]
"And she only charged eight-and-a-half guineas, and"—(Interruption from Husbands. "Isn't the view marvellous!"
General chorus in reply. "Oh—er—Yes!")—"and now I simply go there for everything!"
[Pg 92]
French and English (as zey are spoke at ze country 'ouse).—Hostess. "Oh—er—j'espair ker voos avvy troovy votre—votre—er—er—votre collar stud, barrong?"
M. le Baron. "Oh, I zank you, yes! I find 'eem on my chest of trowsers!"
[Pg 93]
A Disappointment. [To perambulate, v.n.; in German, spazieren; in French, se promener; in Italian, passeggiare.]—Johann Schmidt. "Ach! vat a bitty, Mister Chones! Zen ve must not go therein to berampulate?"
[Pg 94]
Chatty Tourist. "Beautiful specimen of a Roman camp, this, isn't it?"
Grim Stranger. "No, sir, no! I decline to admit that there can be any true beauty about anything Roman!"
TWO LAST WORDS TO SWITZERLAND (By a British Tourist and Family Man)On Uri's lake, in K�snacht's dell,
What is the thought can almost quell
Thy patriot memory, oh Tell?
Hotel!
Whether by blue crevasse we reel,
Or list the avalanche's peal,
What question blends with all we feel?—
Wie Viel?
[Pg 95]
Excursion Tourist. "Most extr'or'nary cre'char!"
Facetious Rustic. "Ah! that a be, measter, bred on this 'ere wery fa-arm he wor, tew!"
More English as she is Wrote.—At an hotel at Socrabaja in Java is this notice:—
"From the hours fixed for meals on no account will be deviated. For damage to furniture the proprietor will avenge himself on the person committing the same."
"Tired Nature."—A yawning gulf.
[Pg 96]
"Ach! I schbeague Enklish not vell, not vell at all! Pot, py a leadle bractice, I imbrove ver kvick! Vait till I haf talk to you for a gopple of hours, and you shall see!"
[Pg 98]
Mrs. Blunderby. "Now, my dear Monty, let me order the luncheon ar-la-fraingsy. Gassong! I wish to begin—as we always do in Paris, my dears—with some chef-d'œuvres—you understand—some chef-d'œuvres."
[Emile, the waiter, is in despair. It occurs to him, however, presently that the lady probably meant "Hors d'Ĺ“uvres," and acts accordingly.
[Pg 98]
TO A WELSH LADY. (Written at Clovelly.)The reason why I leave unsung
Your praises in the Cymric tongue
You know, sweet Nelly;
You recollect your poet's crime—
How, when he tried to sing "the time,"
He made "the place" and "loved one" rhyme,
You and Dolgelly!
But now, although a shocking dunce,
I've learnt, in part, the Welsh pronunc-
iation deathly.
I dream of you in this sweet spot,
And for your sake I call it what
Its own inhabitants do not—
That is "Clovethly"!
At Whitby.—Visitor (to Ancient Mariner, who has been relating his experiences to crowd of admirers). Then do you mean to tell us that you actually reached the North Pole?
Ancient Mariner. No, sir; that would be a perwersion of the truth. But I seed it a-stickin' up among the ice just as plain as you can this spar, which I plants in the sand. It makes me thirsty to think of that marvellous sight, we being as it were parched wi' cold.
[A. M.'s distress promptly relieved by audience.
[Pg 99]
THE WALKING ENGLISHWOMAN ON THE ALPSYou who look at home so charming—
Angel, goddess, nothing less—
Do you know you're quite alarming
In that dress?
Such a garb should be forbidden;
Where's the grace an artist loves?
Think of dainty fingers hidden
In those gloves!
Gloves! A housemaid would not wear them,
Shapeless, brown and rough as sacks,
Thick! And yet you often tear them
With that axe!
Worst of all, unblacked, unshiny—
Greet them with derisive hoots—
Clumsy, huge! For feet so tiny!
Oh, those boots!
[Pg 100]
Brown (finishing very lengthy account of Alpine adventure).
"And then, Miss Jones, then, just as dawn was breaking, I heard the voices of the guides above me, and I knew that I was saved—actually saved! My feelings, as I realised this, may be more easily imagined than described!"
Miss Jones (fervently). "Thank Heaven!"
[And Brown fondly imagined she was alluding to his escape.
[Pg 101]
Visitor (at out-of-the-way Inn in the North). "Do you know anything about salmon-poaching in the neighbourhood?"
Landlady (whose son is not above suspicion). "Eh—no, sir. Maybe it's a new style of cooking as we haven't heard of in these parts, as you see, sir, we only do our eggs that way; and "—(brightening up)—"if you like 'em, I can get you a dish at once!"
[Pg 102]
The Seven Ages of LuggageBaby. Perambulator, bottle, robe, fingerless gloves and woollen shoes.
Schoolboy. Bat, ball, and aids to education.
Lover. Guitar, music-book, writing materials, and fur-lined
Comments (0)