Mr. Punch at the Seaside by J. A. Hammerton (best historical biographies txt) ๐
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- Author: J. A. Hammerton
Read book online ยซMr. Punch at the Seaside by J. A. Hammerton (best historical biographies txt) ๐ยป. Author - J. A. Hammerton
A little rocky cavern by the seaโ
Where, sheltered from the rain (and every eye),
He fondly hopes to breathe his tale of love
Into his artless Arabella's ear!...
[Pg 139]
Jack (a naughty boy, who is always in disgrace, and most deservedly). "I say, Effie, do you know what I should like? I should like to be accused of something I'd never done!"
[Pg 141]
Dowager. "It's been the worst season I can remember, Sir James! All the men seem to have got married, and none of the girls!"
[Pg 143]
Brown. "What beastly weather! And the glass is going steadily down!"
Local Tradesman. "Oh, that's nothing, sir. The glass has no effect whatever on our part of the coast!"
[Pg 144]
THE BETTER THE DAY, THE BETTER THE TALK!SceneโAny fashionable Watering-place where "Church Parade" is a recognised institution.
TimeโSunday, 1 p.m. Enter Brown and Mrs. Brown, who take chairs.
Mrs. Brown. Good gracious! Look another way! Those odious people, the Stiggingses, are coming towards us!
Brown. Why odious? I think the girls rather nice.
Mrs. B. (contemptuously). Oh, you would, because men are so easily taken in! Nice, indeed! Why, here's Major Buttons.
B. (moving his head sharply to the right). Don't see him! Can't stand the fellow! I always avoid him at the Club!
Mrs. B. Why? Soldiers are always such pleasant men.[Pg 146]
B. (contemptuously). Buttons a soldier! Years ago he was a Lieutenant in a marching regiment, and now holds honorary rank in the Volunteers! Soldier, indeed! Bless me! here's Mrs. Fitz-Flummeryโmind you don't cut her.
Mrs. B. Yes, I shall; the woman is unsupportable. Did you ever see such a dress. And she has changed the colour of her hairโagain!
B. Whether she has or hasn't, she looks particularly pleasing.
Mrs. B. (drily). You were always a little eccentric in your taste! Why, surely there must be Mr. Pennyfather Robson. How smart he looks! Where can he have come from?
B. The Bankruptcy Court! (Drily.) You were never particularly famous for discrimination. As I live, the Plantagenet Smiths!
[He bows with effusion.
Mrs. B. And the Stuart Joneses. (She kisses her[Pg 148] hand gushingly). By the way, dear, didn't you say that the Plantagenet Smiths were suspected of murdering their uncle before they inherited his property?
B. So it is reported, darling. And didn't you tell me, my own, that the parents of Mr. Stuart Jones were convicts before they became millionaires?
Mrs. B. So I have heard, loved one. (Starting up.) Come, Charley, we must be off at once! The Goldharts! If they catch us, she is sure to ask me to visit some of her sick poor!
B. And he to beg me to subscribe to an orphanage or a hospital! Here, take your prayer-book, or people won't know that we have come from church!
[Exeunt hurriedly.
At Scarborough.โMiss Araminta Dove. Why do they call this the Spa?
Mr. Rhino-Ceros. Oh! I believe the place was once devoted to boxing exhibitions.
[Miss A.D. as wise as ever.
[Pg 145]
Landlady (who has just presented her weekly bill). "I 'ope, ma'am, as you find the bracing hair agree with you, ma'am, and your good gentleman, ma'am!"
Lady. "Oh, yes, our appetites are wonderfully improved! For instance, at home we only eat two loaves a day, and I find, from your account, that we can manage eight!"
[Landlady feels uncomfortable.
[Pg 147]
"Oh, I say, here comes that dismal bore, Bulkley! Let's pretend we don't see him!"
[Pg 149]
Artist (irritated by the preliminaries of composition and the too close proximity of an uninteresting native). "I think you needn't wait any longer. There's really nothing to look at just now."
Native. "Ay, an' I doot there'll never be muckle to look at there!"
[Pg 150]
THE DONKEY-BOYS OF ENGLAND (A Song for the Seaside)The Donkey-Boys of England, how merrily they fly,
With pleasant chaff upon the tongue and cunning in the eye.
And oh! the donkeys in a mass how patiently they stand,
High on the heath of Hampstead, or down on Ramsgate's sand.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they reprove
The brute that won't "come over", with an impressive shove;
And oh! the eel-like animals, how gracefully they swerve
From side to side, but won't advance to spoil true beauty's curve.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how manfully they fight,
When a probable donkestrian comes suddenly in sight;
From nurse's arms the babies are clutch'd with fury wild,
And on a donkey carried off the mother sees her child.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they defy
The pleadings of a parent's shriek, the infant's piercing cry;
As a four-year-old Mazeppa is hurried from the spot,
Exposed to all the tortures of a donkey's fitful trot.
[Pg 152]The Donkey-Boys of England, how lustily they scream,
When they strive to keep together their donkeys in a team;
And the riders who are anxious to be class'd among genteels,
Have a crowd of ragged Donkey-boys "hallooing" at their heels.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how well they comprehend
The animal to whom they act as master, guide, and friend;
The understanding that exists between them who'll disputeโ
Or that the larger share of it falls sometimes to the brute?
Seaside Acquaintances (SceneโThe Shady Side of Pall Mall).โSnob. My Lord, you seem to forget me. Don't you recollect our meeting this summer at Harrogate?
Swell. My dear fellow, I do not forget it in the least. I recollect vividly we swore eternal friendship at Harrogate, and should it be my fate to meet you at Harrogate next year, I shall only be too happy to swear it again.
[Lifts his chapeau, and leaves Snob in a state of the most speechless amazement.
[Pg 151]
Portrait of a gentleman who sent his wife and family to the seaside, followed by a later train, and left their address behind.
[Sketched after five hours' futile search for them.
[Pg 153]
"O let me kiss him for his mother!"
[Pg 154]
REASONS FOR GOING TO BRIGHTON (By the Cynic who stays in London)Because "everybody" is there, and it is consequently so pleasant to see St. John's Wood, Bayswater, and even Belgravia, so well represented on the Esplanade.
Because the shops in the King's Road are nearly as good as those to be found in Regent Street.
Because the sea does not always look like the Thames at Greenwich in a fog.
Because some of the perambulating bands play very nearly in tune.
Because the Drive from the Aquarium to the New Pier is quite a mile in length, and only grows monotonous after the tenth turn.
Because watching fish confined in tanks is such rollicking fun.
Because the Hebrews are so numerously represented on the Green.
Because the Clubs are so inexpensive and select.
Because the management of the Grand is so very admirable.
Because it is so pleasant to follow the Harriers on a hired hack in company with other hired hacks.[Pg 156]
Because the half-deserted Skating Rinks are so very amusing.
Because it is so nice to hear second-rate scandal about third-rate people.
Because the place is not always being visited by the scarlet fever.
Because it is so cheerful to see the poor invalids taking their morning airing in their bath-chairs.
Because the streets are paraded by so many young gentlemen from the City.
Because the Brighton belles look so ladylike in their quiet Ulsters and unpretending hats.
Because the suburbs are so very cheerful in the winter, particularly when it snows or rains.
Because on every holiday the Railway Company brings down such a very nice assortment of excursionists to fill the streets.
Because Brighton in November is so very like Margate in July.
Because, if you did not visit Brighton, you might so very easily go farther and fare worse.
[Pg 155]
Tomkins, disconsolate on a rock, traces some characters upon the sand. To him, Mrs. Tomkins (whose name is Martha).
Mrs. T. "Well, Mr. Tomkins, and pray who may Henrietta be?"
[Tomkins utters a yell of despair, and falls prostrate.
[Pg 157]
"What does t'lass want wi' yon boostle for? It aren't big enough to smoggle things, and she can't steer herself wi' it!"
[Pg 158]
THE TRIPPER (By a Resident)What does he come for?
What does he want?
Why does he wander thus
Careworn and gaunt?
Up street and down street with
Dull vacant stare,
Hither and thither, it
Don't matter where?
What does he mean by it?
Why does he come
Hundreds of miles to prowl,
Weary and glum,
Blinking at Kosmos with
Lack-lustre eye?
He doesn't enjoy it, he
Don't even try!
Sunny or soaking, it's
All one to him,
Wandering painfullyโ
Curious whim!
Gazing at china-shops,
Gaping at sea,
Guzzling at beer-shops, or
Gorging at tea.
[Pg 159]
Why don't he stay at home,
Save his train fare,
Soak at his native beer,
Sunday clothes wear?
No one would grudge it him,
No one would jeer.
Why does he come away?
Why is he here?
Landlady. "I hope you slept well, sir?"
New Boarder. "No, I didn't. I've been troubled with insomnia."
Landlady. "Look here, young man. I'll give you a sovereign for every one you find in that bed!"
[Pg 160]
Testy Old Gent. (wearied by the importunities of the Brighton boatmen). "Confound it, man! Do I look as if I wanted a boat?"
ROBERT AT THE SEASIDEI've bin spending my long Wacation of a fortnite at Northgate.
Northgate's a nice quiet place, Northgate is, tho' it quite fails in most things that constitoots reel injoyment at the seaside, such as Bands and Niggers and Minstrels and all that.
It's a grand place for weather, for it generally blows hard at Northgate, and wen it doesn't blow hard it rains hard, which makes a nice change, and a change is wot we all goes to the seaside for.
It seems a werry favrite place for inwaleeds, for the place is full on 'em, Bath cheers is in great demand and all the seats on the Prade is allus occypied by 'em.
Dr. Scratchem too sends most of his favrite cases there, and you can't walk on the Peer without facing lots on 'em.
Brown says the place makes him as sollem as a Common Cryer, and he hasn't had a good hearty larf since he came here, but then Brown isn't quite sattisfied with his Lodgings, and has acshally recommended his Land Lady to turn her house into the Norfolk Howard Hotel, Unlimited, so perhaps she may account for his want of spirits. Northgate's rather a rum place as regards the tide. Wen it's eye it comes all over the place and makes such a jolly mess, and wen it's low it runs right
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