Part 3

_Pantaloon._ Sausages, property red-hot poker, costume of motley, slippers and spectacle case.

_Veteran._ Travels without luggage.

* * * * *

A GREAT TRAVELLER.--Dr. Watts was evidently in the habit of making pedestrian excursions on the Continent, for in one of his noblest lines, he expressly says--

"Whene'er I take my walks abroad."

* * * * *

INNOCENT ABROAD.--You are misled in your view that the _Cours de Cuisine_, mentioned in the prospectus of a French school, means the run of the kitchen.

* * * * *

[Illustration: IN THE SWISS HIGHLANDS.--_Brown._ "This is rather a pretty figure. You start on the left foot, cut a drop three--then----" (_Bump_)

_Little Girl_ (_unmoved_). "Oh, _that's_ why it's called a drop three, Mr. Brown!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Photographer_ (_on tour, absent-mindedly_). "Now smile, please!"]

* * * * *

AT THE CELESTIAL RESTAURANT.--_Customer_ (_indignantly_). Hi! waiter, what do you call this soup?

_Waiter_ (_meekly_). I not know, sir, but ze padrone tell me to describe 'im Cockstail!

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Traveller_ (_snap-shotting tropical river, suddenly confronted by hippopotamus_). "Just keep like that one moment, please!" (_Rapturously_) "Such a delightful expression!"]

* * * * *

NOTE BY OUR TRAVELLER--At a station on the Elham Valley Line, "Kentish Pianos" are advertised. Are these adapted for playing only dance tunes, and therefore specially serviceable in a "Hop" county?

* * * * *

EASTER HOLIDAYS

(_By One who has tried them_)

Must really decide where to go for five or six days at Easter. Weather always awful. Usual Springtime. North-east wind, frost, snow and dust. Something like last week. Can't stop in London. One Sunday or Bank Holiday in London mournful enough. But four of them consecutively! Impossible!

Innocent persons go to the south coast of England, thinking that fifty miles nearer the equator one is in quite a different climate. Bournemouth? Bosh! All sandy dust and depressing invalids. Torquay? Twaddle! Probably rain all the time, if not snow. England no good. Scotland or Ireland? Worse!

Must go, as people say vaguely, "abroad." How about Paris? North-east wind, frost, snow and dust, worse than here. Streets windy, theatres draughty, cafes and restaurants suffocating. Brussels? Nothing but rain. Aix-les-Bains? Probably snow. Nice? That might do. No frost or snow, but very likely a north-east wind and certainly lots of dust. Besides, thirty hours' journey out and thirty hours' journey back, would only leave about sixty hours there. No good. Rome, Seville, Constantinople, Cairo? Still farther. Should have to leave on the return journey before I arrived. Where can I go to at Easter to be warm and comfortable, without so much trouble? I know. To bed!

* * * * *

REGARDLESS OF THE TEMPERATURE.--_Facetious Australian_ (_off Calshot Castle, to indisposed friend_). What arm of the sea reminds one of a borrowed boot?

_The "I. F."_ (_feebly_). Give it--anything--up.

_F. A._ Why, the _Sole-lent_, to be sure.

[_The "I. F." is promptly carried below._

* * * * *

AT BATH.--_Wiffling_ (_sympathetically_). Here on account of the waters?

_Piffling._ No, unhappily. Here on account of the whiskies.

* * * * *

"A QUESTION OF THE HOUR."--Asking a railway porter the time of the next train's departure for your holiday resort.

* * * * *

[Illustration: Scene--_The Summit of Vesuvius_

_American Tourist_ (_to the world at large_). "Great snakes, it reminds me of hell!"

_English Tourist._ "My dear, how these Americans _do_ travel!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Friend_ (_below_). "All you've got to do when I throw you the rope is to make it fast to that projection over your head, and lower yourself down!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: "THE CHURCH-GOING BELL"

Sunday morning, coast of Norway. (_By our Yachting Artist._)]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Parson._ "Yes, on one occasion I married four couples in a quarter of an hour. Quick work, wasn't it?"

_Nautical Young Lady._ "Yes, rather! Sixteen knots an hour!"]

* * * * *

TO MY AIRSHIP

[_The poet is being piloted on his aerial flight by a prosaic mechanician. It is to the latter that the interpolations are due._]

Thou elfin Puck, thou child of master mind! (Look out! the ballast's slipping off behind.) Thou swanlike Siren of the blue sublime! (Screw up that nut, and never mind the rhyme.)

Thine 'tis to fathom AEther's highest pole! (This wind will fairly get us in a hole.) Thine to explore the azure-vaulted dome! (I wonder how the deuce we're going home.)

Up, up, thou speedest, flaunting, flaunting high, Thy glist'ring frame emblazon'd 'gainst the sky; And myriad-minded fancies still pursue Thy gliding--(Blow! the anchor's fouled the screw!)

Thou stormy petrel, kissing heaven's height, (Petrol! The rotten stuff declines to light) Onward thou soarest o'er the City's dust Shimmering, triumphant. (Gad! The motor's bust!)

* * * * *

_Q._ Give the French for "a policeman's beat." _A._ _Un tour de Force._

* * * * *

_Q._ What is the difference between a traveller and a popular vegetable?

_A._ One has been abroad and the other's a broad bean.

[_Exit Querier rapidly._

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE AMERICAN RUSH.--_American Tourist._ "Say, how long will it take to see over the ruins?"

_Caretaker._ "About an hour, sir."

_American Tourist._ "And how long will it take you to tell us about it?"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: "Is this your favourite view, poppa darling?"

"Why, certainly. But--ahem!--I prefer it _unframed_!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: COLD COMFORT.--_Visitor to the West Indies_ (_who has been warned against bathing in the river because of alligators, but has been told by the boatman that there are none at the river's mouth_). "By jove, this is ripping! But, I say, how do you know there are no alligators here?"

_Boatman._ "Well, you see, sah, de alligator am so turr'ble feared ob de shark!"]

* * * * *

OVER THE SEA.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I read that two new cures for sea sickness have just been discovered: the one the eating of bananas; the other, found out by Professor Heinz, of Erlangen, who declares that the malady proceeds from the lobe of the brain, and that to avert it one has only to breathe freely. As to the Professor's theory about breathing freely, I can safely assert that I never open my mouth so wide as when crossing the Channel, but the experiment is an unpleasant failure.

Your obedient servant,

DIONYSIUS DABELRISK.

_Peckham Rye._

* * * * *

AT THE GRAND HOTEL, PARIS.--_Blithers_ (_of romantic turn of mind, to Smithers, after observing a young couple in close conversation in the court yard_). I'm sure they're engaged. I heard her call him Harry!

_Smithers_ (_a matter-of-fact man_). What of that? I call my housemaid Emily! He's most probably her footman.

[_Smithers calls for absinthe._

* * * * *

[Illustration: WELL MEANT, BUT----. _Motorist_ (_with heated cylinders_). "Where can I get some water?"

_Rustic._ "There beant noo watter hereaboots--but ye can have a sup at my tea!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A difficult pass]

[Illustration: A kneesy climb]

[Illustration: A smiling valley]

[Illustration: A magnificent gorge]

* * * * *

BY THE SILVER SEA.--_Seaside. Tripper--none too clean in appearance--charters bathing machine. Smart-looking schoolboy_ (_about to enter next machine_), _loq._ I say, ma, I wish that dirty fellow wouldn't bathe here.

_Mamma._ Why, Tommy? If people of that sort were to bathe, they'd be as clean as you, you know.

_Tommy_ (_eyeing Tripper closely_). Not in once, mamma!

* * * * *

[Illustration: AN APPRECIATION

(_Train entering Venice_)

_Fair American._ "Waal, I guess this is where the Adriatic slops over!"]

* * * * *

SUMMER RESORTS

DREARDON-CUM-SLOOZE.

Spring weather, in pleasing variety of sun and snow-shower, now prevails in this highly fla--favoured locality. Mr. Josiah Jorker, Chairman of the Rural District Council here, has bought four black Berkshire pigs, and to lean over the yard gate and inspect them is now a regular afternoon occupation. Discussion as to their merits runs high amongst our local magnates. Situate as this health-giving village is, it offers to the tired brain-worker complete rest, as there is no railway station within six miles, and only the day-before-yesterday's newspaper is obtainable.

CHAWBOODLECUM.

A fine bracing N.E. wind has dried the roads, and, amongst the aged and sick, made a clearance, thoroughly in accord with the "survival of the fittest" doctrine. Trade has never been more brisk with the local undertaker and the much-respected sexton. The cricket club opens its season to-day with a match against the neighbouring village of Sludgely. A "Sing-Song," or "Free and Easy," is held every Saturday night at the "Pig and Puppy-Dog," at which well-known hostelry visitors can find every accommodation.

SLACKINGTON.

In this genial and mild air, where a steady, gentle rain falls on very nearly every day in the year, the Londoner, fleeing from the trying east winds of Spring, may find a welcome refuge. It is quite a pretty sight on Sundays to watch the people with their different coloured waterproofs stream out of church. There is a rumour that the present supply of cabs will shortly be augmented by one, if not two, fresh vehicles. On Monday last a German band played a charming selection of music in the market place, and there was a dog-fight in the High Street.

PORKBURY.

This charming spot only requires to be known, to insure plenty of patronage from visitors. The new pump is being pushed forward rapidly, and the Vicar intends to hold jumble sales once a week throughout the summer. This, in itself, will, it is expected, prove a great attraction.

Police-Constable Slummers, whose urbanity and great consideration for the inhabitants (especially on Saturday nights) have always been so conspicuous, is about to leave, and some of the more prominent townsmen have taken the opportunity of marking their sense of his valuable services by presenting him with a handsome pewter pot, engraved with his name and the date.

A piano-organist now regularly attends the weekly market, and his music is greatly appreciated by those engaged in buying and selling.

At the Farmer's Eighteenpenny Ordinary, last week, Mr. Chumpjaw stated that his mangolds were "the whackin'est big 'uns" grown in the county.

* * * * *

AT BOULOGNE.--_Mrs. Sweetly_ (_on her honeymoon_). Isn't it funny, Archibald, to see so many foreigners about? And all talking French!

* * * * *

PATRON SAINT OF MESSRS. COOK.--St. Martin of "Tours."

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Englishman_ (_to friend_). "There goes that awful liar, who says he has climbed everything under the sun."

_Friend._ "Don't call him a liar. Rather say he has a great talent for exaggerating things that never happened."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A PLEASANT UNCERTAINTY.--_Gigantic Guide._ "Ze last party zat was 'ere--no one knew whezzer zey _shumped_ over or was _thrown_ over!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A SLIGHT "MALONGTONGDEW"

_Angelina._ "There are to be illuminations and fireworks, and they're to finish up with an 'ombrasmong general.' What can that be?"

_Edwin._ "Well, 'ombasser' means to 'kiss'; so I suppose it means a kind of a sort of a general kissing all round."

_Angelina._ "Horrid idea! I won't go near the place, and I'm sure you shan't, Edwin!"

[Our readers, who know French better than E. and A., are aware that embrasement, with only one "s," has a totally different meaning.

]

* * * * *

[Illustration: HONEYMOONING IN PARIS.--_Mrs. Jones._ "Am I not an expensive little wifie?"

_Jones_ (_who has spent the morning and a small fortune at the Magasin du Louvre_). "Well, you _are_ a little dear!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: QUID PRO QUO.--_Madame Gaminot._ "Oh yes, Monsieur Jones, J'_adore_ les Anglais! Zey understand bisnesse! For example, zey pay me sixty pound--fifteen 'undred franc--to sing 'La Blanchisseuse du Tambour-Major' at a evening party! It seem a great deal! But zey laugh, and zey say, 'Oh, sharmong! Oh, ravissong!' and it mek everybody sink zat everybody else know French--it almost mek zem sink zat zey know it zemselfs!!! Ca vaut bien quinze cents francs, j'espere!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Tourist_ (_at small Irish inn, miles from anywhere_). "Look here, what does this mean? I left my boots out last night, and they haven't been touched."

_Landlord_ (_with honest pride_). "Thrue for ye, sorr! An' begorr', if ye'd left your _gowld watch an' chain_ out, div'l a sowl wud 'a touched them nayther!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: 'ARRY ABROAD.--_Guide._ "Monsieur finds eet a vairy eenteresting old place, ees eet not?" _'Arry_ (_who will speak French_). "Pas demi!"]

* * * * *

BY THE SILVER SEA

DRAINSMOUTH.

This popular health resort is now filled to over-flowing. The entertainments on the pier include animated photographs of a procession to the Woking Crematorium, and other cheerful and interesting subjects. The smells of the harbour may still be enjoyed to perfection at low water.

SHRIMPLEY.

The question of mixed bathing here has at length been set at rest by the Town Council issuing an order that nobody is to bathe at all. A decision so impartial as between the rival factions cannot fail to give satisfaction to all except the captious. Professor De Bach, with his performing dogs, gives an exhibition twice each day at the Pier Pavilion.

LODGINGTON-ON-SEA.

Warm and sunny weather still continues in this favoured spot. People wait half the morning for a bathing-machine and then look rather disappointed when they get it. The Simperton-Swaggeringtons arrived yesterday, travelling first-class from the junction, two miles off (up to which point they had come third). This has excited some unfavourable comment in the town.

SMELLINGTON-SUPER-MARE.

Large numbers of tripp--visitors, I mean, continue to pour into the town from Saturdays to Mondays, benefiting greatly by their small change. The lodging-house keepers also derive considerable benefit from their (the visitors') small change, especially when left lying about on the mantelpiece. No one could complain of dulness here now, for as I write, twenty-three barrel-organs, eleven troupes of nigger minstrels and four blind beggars with fiddles are amusing and delighting their listeners on the sands. The place is thoroughly lively, hardly an hour of the day passing without at least two street rows between inebriated excursionists taking place. The police force has been doubled, and the magistrates have given notice that, for the future, they will give no "option," and that all sentences for assaults in the streets will be with hard labour.

* * * * *

[Illustration: PHILOLOGICAL.--_First English Groom_ (_new to Paris_). "And the French gent as he drives round the corner, he pulls up quick, and calls out 'Woa!'"

_Second ditto_ (_who has been in Paris some time_). "He couldn't have said _'Woa!'_ as there ain't no 'W' in French."

_First ditto._ "No 'W' in French? Then 'ow d'yer spell 'wee'?"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: Alarming appearance of a harmless guana just as he has found a nice corner of Sydney Harbour for a sketch.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: Mr. Townmouse takes lodgings for his family at a farmhouse in a remote district. Delightful spot; but they weren't so well off for butcher's meat as they could wish.

_Farmer._ "Now, if your lady 'ud like some nice pork--Oh! she does like pork?--Well, then, we shall kill a pig the week arter next."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: A NICE PROSPECT.--_Traveller_ (_benighted in the Black Country_). "Not a bed-room disengaged! Tut-t-t-t!"

_Landlady_ (_who is evidently in the coal business as well_). "Oh, we'll accommodate you somehow, sir, if me and my 'usband gives you up our own bed, sir!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.--_Professor Chatterleigh._ "By George! I'm so hungry I can't _talk!_"

_Fair Hostess_ (_on hospitable thoughts intent_). "Oh, I'm _so_ glad!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: AESTHETICS

_Indiscreet Sister._ "Why, Harry, your legs are getting more _Chippendale_ than ever!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE JOYS OF TOURING

_Traveller._ "I say, your razor's pulling most confoundedly!"

_Local Torturer._ "Be it, zur? Wull, 'old on tight to the chair, an' we'll get it off zummow!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: CHEERING.--_First Artist_ (_on a pedestrian tour_). "Can you tell which is the best inn in Baconhurst?"

_Rustic_ (_bewildered_). "Dunno."

_Second Artist_ (_tired_). "But we can get beds there, I suppose? Where do travellers generally go?"

_Rustic._ "Go to the union moostly!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: MIND AND MATTER-OF-FACT

_Cotton-Man_ (_fro' Shoddydale_). "What dun yo' co' that wayter?"

_Coachman._ "Ah, ain't it beautiful? That's Grassmere Lake, that is----"

_Cotton-Man._ "Yo' co'n 'um all la-akes an' meres i' these pa-arts. We co'n 'um rezzer-voyers where ah com' fro'!!"]

* * * * *

Would the epigrammatic translation of "_sede vacanti_" as "Not well and gone away for a holiday" be accepted by an examiner?

* * * * *

WINTER RESORT FOR BRONCHIALLY-AFFECTED PERSONS.--Corfe Castle.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Visitor._ "And so you've never been to London! Oh, but you must go. It's quite an easy journey, you know."

_Gaffer Stokes._ "Ah, Oi'd main loike to see Lunnon, Oi wud. Reckon Oi must go afore Oi'm done for. _Now which moight be their busy day there,_ mister?"]

* * * * *

TO INTENDING TOURISTS--"Where shall we go?" All depends on the "coin of 'vantage." Switzerland? Question of money. Motto.--_"Point d'argent point de Suisse."_

* * * * *

SCENE--_On the Quay. Ocean liner's syren fog-horn emitting short, sharp grunts._

_Little Girl._ Oh, mamma, that _poor_ ship must have a drefful pain in its cabin!

* * * * *

WASTED SYMPATHY.--SCENE--_Interior of Railway Carriage. Lady_ (_to gentleman who has just entered and is placing one of his fellow passenger's bags on the floor where there is a hot-water bottle_). Oh! Excuse me, sir, but, _please_ don't put _that_ near the hot-water bottle. I've got a little bird in the bag.

_Elderly Gentleman_ (_who is an enthusiastic Anti-Vivisectionist and prominent member of the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals_). Good Heavens, madam! a bird in there! Please consider! How cruel! how inhuman! how----(_gasps for words_).

_Lady._ Not at all, my dear sir. _It's a roast partridge, cold, for lunch._

[_Collapse of Enthusiast._

* * * * *

UNPLEASANTLY SUGGESTIVE NAMES OF "CURE" PLACES ABROAD.--_Bad Gastein._ Which must be worse than the first day's sniff at Bad-Eggs-la-Chapelle.

* * * * *

ROTATORY KNIFE (AND FORK) MACHINES.--Pullman dining cars.

* * * * *

THE LINE WHICH IS OFTEN DRAWN.--The Equator.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THOROUGH BUT NOT PEDANTIC. (_Overheard at the Louvre._)--_American Tourist_ (_suspiciously_). "Say, guide, haven't we seen this room before?"

_Guide._ "Oh no, monsieur."

_Tourist._ "Well, see here. We want to see everything, but we don't want to see anything twice!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS.--_Captain Brown_ (_narrating his trip to the Continent_). "Then, of course, we ran down to Granada, and saw the Alhambra----"

_Captain Jinks_ (_untravelled athlete_). "No!! What, have they got one there too!!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: FILIAL ANXIETY. "Going to Paris to-morrow, Tom!"

"How's that?"

"My poor old governor's taken ill there!"

"Going by Dieppe or Boulogne?"

"Rather think I shall go _via Monaco_!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: OVERDOING IT

_Sympathiser._ "Sorry you look so seedy after your holiday, old chap!"

_Too Energetic Sight-seer._ "Well, I am a bit done up, but the doctor says that with rest and great care I may be well enough to have a run-round as usual next year."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Gushing Young Lady_ (_to Mr. Dunk, who has just returned from Rome_). "They say, Mr. Dunk, that when one sets foot in Rome for the first time, one experiences a profound feeling of awe. The chaos of ruined grandeur, the magnificent associations, seem too much for one to grasp. Tell me, oh tell me, Mr. Dunk, what did _you_ think of it all?"

_Mr. Dunk_ (_deliberately, after considering awhile_). "_Very_ nice!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: "Carry your trunk, sir?"]

* * * * *

A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE.--_Miss Tomboy._ Mamma, I think those French women were beastly rude.

_Mother._ You mustn't speak like that of those ladies, it's very wrong. And how often have I told you not to say "beastly"?

_Miss Tomboy._ Well, they _were_ rude. They called me a little cabbage (_mon petit chou_). The next time they do that I shall call them old French beans.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE TOURIST SEASON. HOTEL BRIGANDAGE]

* * * * *

DE GUSTIBUS----

I am an unadventurous man, And always go upon the plan Of shunning danger where I can.

And so I fail to understand Why every year a stalwart band Of tourists go to Switzerland,

And spend their time for several weeks, With quaking hearts and pallid cheeks, Scaling abrupt and windy peaks.

In fact, I'm old enough to find Climbing of almost any kind Is very little to my mind.

A mountain summit white with snow Is an attractive sight, I know, But why not see it _from below_?

Why leave the hospitable plain And scale Mont Blanc with toil and pain Merely to scramble down again?

Some men pretend they think it bliss To clamber up a precipice Or dangle over an abyss,

To crawl along a mountain side, Supported by a rope that's tied, --Not too securely--to a guide;

But such pretences, it is clear, In the aspiring mountaineer Are usually insincere.

And many a climber, I'll be bound, Whom scarped and icy crags surround, Wishes himself on level ground.

So I, for one, do not propose, To cool my comfortable toes In regions of perpetual snows,

As long as I can take my ease, Fanned by a soothing southern breeze, Under the shade of English trees.

And anyone who leaves my share Of English fields and English air May take the Alps for aught I care!

* * * * *

SPORT MOST APPROPRIATE TO THE LOCALITY.--Shooting pigeons at Monte Carlo.

* * * * *

PLEASURE A LA RUSSE.--_Q._ When does a Russian give a Polish peasant a holiday?

_A._ When he gives him _a kn_outing.

* * * * *

THE CRY OF THE HOLIDAY-LOVING CLERK.--"Easterward Ho!"

* * * * *

A DISH THAT DISAGREES WITH MOST PERSONS WHEN TRAVELLING.--The Chops of the Channel.

* * * * *

THE GREATEST BORE IN CREATION.--The Simplon Tunnel.

* * * * *

[Illustration: The Brown family resolve to spend their vacation each after his own fashion, instead of _en famille_.

Jack took his motor car of course.

Maud and Ethel started on a Biking Tour.

Pater preferred "Cooks".

"My Dear Sir, I tell you there is not a city in the whole of Europe that is a patch upon Florence. Why I found the finest English chemists there that I have come across in all my travels."

Mater had "quiet time" in Devonshire.

Bob went canoeing.

While Mary Ann says 'Give me good ole Margit'.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE ANTIQUARY.--_Tourist_ (_in Cornwall_). "May I be permitted to examine that interesting stone in your field? These ancient Druidical remains are most interesting!"

_Farmer._ "Sart'nly, sir. 'May be very int'restin' an' arnshunt, but we do stick 'em oup for the cattle, an' call 'em roubbin' pusts!!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Smithson, having read and heard much of the pleasures of a driving tour, determines to indulge in that luxury during his Whitsuntide holidays. He therefore engages a trap, with a horse that can "get over the ground," and securing the services of an experienced driver, he sets forth._

_Smithson._ "A--a--isn't he--a--a--hadn't I better help you to pull at him?"