Mr. Punch on Tour: The Humour of Travel at Home and Abroad by J. A. Hammerton (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📕

Visitor. "Will you tell me where I shall find a seat?"

Verger. "Weel, sir, there's a guid wheen veesitors in Inverness the noo: so sit whaur ye can see yer umbrella!"

[Pg 160]

Toddlekins is anxious to take his family to Mars this summer, and inquires where he can hire a speedy balloon for the purpose. He is anxious to know whether he can obtain golf there, and also whether the roads are good for bicycling. He is recommended to apply for information to the Astronomer-Royal. But why should Toddlekins trouble to go so far afield? He would be sure to find congenial society in the neighbourhood of Hanwell, and by selecting this spot as his destination, the expense of a return ticket would be saved.

Anxious Mother.—So glad that you intend taking your dear ten children to Poppleton-on-Sea for three weeks' change of air. And all that you tell me about Timothy's pet rabbit and Selina's last attack of measles is so deeply interesting. Unfortunately I cannot answer all your questions myself, but I will print them here, so that some of my kind readers may be able to assist you. You want to know, in regard to Poppleton[Pg 162]—

(1) Whether the pavements (if any) are stone or asphalte.

(2) What is the mean temperature, the annual rain-fall, and the death-rate.

(3) What are the Rector's "views," and if there is a comfortable pew in the church, out of draughts, calculated to hold eleven.

(4) What time the shops at Poppleton close on Saturdays.

Dubious.—As you say, it is difficult to make up one's mind where to spend the holidays, because there are so many places from which to choose. And you were so wise to write and ask me to give you the name of one single place which I could thoroughly recommend, and so save you all further worry. How about Brighton, Hastings, Eastbourne, Bexhill, Seaford, Cowes, Weymouth, Exmouth, Penzance, Lynton, or Tenby? I am delighted to give you this real and valuable help!

Picnic-Party.—You have my full sympathy. It is most churlish of riparian owners to refuse to allow strangers to land on their property. Fancy any one objecting to having his lawn covered with broken bottles and paper bags![Pg 164]

Owner.—I feel deeply for you. The way in which trippers on the river invade riverside gardens is outrageous. The bags and pieces of glass they leave about must be a gross disfigurement to your lawn.

[Pg 161]

Introduction made Easy.

Invalid-Chair Attendant. "If you should have a fancy for any partickler party, I can easily bump 'em."

[Pg 163]

Miss Binns (breathless, hurrying to catch London train after week-end trip). "Can you please tell me the exact time?"

Old Salt. "'Alf ebb."

A MOUNTAIN RAMBLER (By a Returned Traveller)

I've scanned and penned an Ode on

Thy snowy glories, Snowdon

My honeymoon with Helen,

Was spent near "dark" Helvellyn,

Afar from all the beau monde

I've rambled round Ben Lomond,

At noontide on Ben Nevis,

I've roved and read Sir Bevis,

I've stretched each tired thin limb on

Thy summit, O Plinlimmon,

And once I tore my breeks

On Macgillycuddy's Reeks.

Those glorious mountain scalps,

The tiptops of the Alps,

I've seen—their pines and passes,

Their glaciers and crevasses[Pg 166]—

With fools, philosophers and wits,

I've scrambled up the Ortler Spitz,

Made sketches on St. Gothard,

Like Turner and like Stothard,

And with my cara sposa

Ascended Monte Rosa:

But not content with Europe,

I've roamed with staff and new rope

As far away as Ararat,

Where savants say there's ne'er a rat;

The Kuen Lun and Thian Shan

I know as well as any man;

I've boiled my evening kettle

On Popocatapetl,

And on the highest Andes

I've sodas mixed and brandies;

I've slumbered snug and cosey

On silvery Potosi;

I've stood on Peter Botto,

A rather lonely spot;

And—crowning feat of all

My mountaineerings on this ball—

I've smoked—O weed for ever blest!

My pipe upon Mount Everest.

And now my ramble's over,

Here's Shakspeare's Cliff and Dover!

All Alpine risks and chances,

All Ultramontane fancies,

I've put away and done with;

I'll stay my wife and son with,

And never more will roam

From Primrose Hill and home.

[Pg 165]

The Festive Season.

Visitor to the District (who has missed his way). "Can you tell me, my good man, if I shall pass the 'Red Lion' inn along this road?"

The Village Toper. "Oi wouldn't like to be saying wut a gen'leman loike ye wud be doin'; but Oi'm parfect sartin Oi shouldn't!"

[Pg 167]

Queen's Hotel, Ambleside, 3 o'clock, a.m.—"Tom!" (No response.) "I say, Tom!" (No answer.) "Tom!" (A muffled grunt.) "Tom—Fire!"

"Eh? What? What do you say?"

"I say Tom, do you think your key will fit my bag?"

"No—'t won't—Chubb!"

    [Objurgations, and midnight disturber retires.

[Pg 168]

Our Compatriots Abroad.

"And how did you like Switzerland?"

"Oh, immensely! It was our first visit, you know!"

"And did you go on into Italy?"

"Well, no. We found a hotel at Lausanne where there was a first-rate tennis-lawn, you know—quite as good as ours at home. So we spent the whole of our holiday there, and played lawn-tennis all day long."

[Pg 169]

AGGRAVATING FLIPPANCY

The Professor (who has just come back from the North Pole). "—— and the fauna of these inhospitable regions is as poor as the flora! You couldn't name a dozen animals who manage to live there."

Mrs. Malapert. "Oh—I dare say I could!"

The Professor. "Really—what are they?"

Mrs. Malapert. "Well, now—five polar bears, let us say, and—and seven seals!"

[Pg 170]

First Traveller. "Can we have beds here to-night?"

Obliging Hostess. "Oh, yes, sir."

First Traveller. "Have you—er—any—er—insects in this house?"

Obliging Hostess. "No, sir. But we can get you some!"

[Pg 171]

Lady (to her travelling companion, who has just had his finger-nail pinched badly). "How horrid! I always think anything wrong with one's nails sets one's teeth on edge all down one's back!"

[Pg 172]

NEARING THE ENGLISH COAST

Jones. (Returning to England). "We are quite fifty miles from the Scilly Isles, Miss Brown. They say the odour of the flowers they cultivate there travels that distance over the sea. I can detect it distinctly now—can't you?"

Miss Brown (from America). "I guess it hasn't quite reached me yet, Mr. Jones!"

[Pg 173]

On a Certain Condescension in Foreigners.

He. "Oh, you're from America, are you? People often say to me, 'Don't you dislike Americans?' But I always say 'I believe there are some very nice ones among them.'"

She. "Ah, I dare say there may be two or three nice people amongst millions!"

[Pg 174]

Our Countrymen Abroad.

Mr. Shoddy. "I always say, Mrs. Sharp, that I never feel really safe from the ubiquitous British snob till I am south of the Danube!"

Mrs. Sharp (innocently). "And what do the—a—South Danubians say, Mr. Shoddy?"

[Pg 175]

Waiter. "Did you ring, Sir?"

Traveller (as a gentle hint to previous arrival). "Another fire, waiter!"

[Pg 176]

Mr. Smith. "Oh, I was wondering whether you and your husband would care to accompany our party to Hadrian's Villa to-morrow?"

Young American Bride. "Why, yes; we'd just love to go. George and I will be furnishing as soon as we get back to Noo York, and maybe we'd be able to pick up a few notions over at this villa."

[Pg 177]

UNANSWERABLE

Pompous Magnate (making speech at public luncheon in provincial town). "Speaking of travel reminds me how greatly I have admired the scenery round Lake Geneva, and also what pleasant times I have spent in the neighbourhood of Lake Leman."

Cultured Neighbour (in audible whisper). "Pardon me, but the two places are synonymous."

P. M. (patronisingly). "Ah! So you may think, sir—so you may think! But, from my point of view, I consider Lake Geneva to be far the most synonymous of the two."

[Pg 178]

"It's an Ill Wind," &c.

"Oh, papa! what do you think? Four out of our twelve boxes are missing."

"Hurrah! By George! that's the best piece of news I've had for a long time."

[Pg 179]

An Epicure.

"Oh, George, I'm ashamed of you—rubbing your lips like that, after that dear little French girl has given you a kiss!"

"I'm not rubbing it out, mammy—I'm rubbing it in!"

[Pg 180]

A COWES WEEK EXPERIENCE

Monday.—Dear old Bluewater—what a good fellow he is!—asks me to join his yacht, the Sudden Jerk, for Cowes week. Never been yachting before.

Tuesday.—Arrive Ryde Pier, correctly (I hope) "got up"; blue serge, large brass anchor buttons, and peaked cap. Fancy Bluewater rather surprised to see how au fait I am at nautical dress. "Ah! my dear fellow, delighted to see you. Come along; the gig is lying alongside the steps. One of the hands" (why "hands"?) "shall look to your traps." We scramble into gig and are rowed out to 50-ton yawl. Climb up side. Bluewater says, "Come below. Take care—two steps down, then turn round and—— Oh! by Jove! what a crack you've caught your head. Never mind, old boy, you'll soon get accustomed to it." Devoutly hope I shall not get accustomed to knocking my head. Arrive at foot of "companion" (why "companion"?) stairs. Bluewater pulls aside curtains and says, "There you are!" Reply, "Oh! yes,[Pg 182] there I am.

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