Punch: Punch (69.1875)

September 11, 1875.] PUNCH, OB THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 105

ROMANCE OF THE KITCHEN.

CooJc {from the Area). " 0, 'Ltz*, gi' mk my "Winigrette—I 've 'ad a—oeeeb-

feom the Dustman!I"

"WHERE SHALL WE GO?"

Amandtjs exclaims to Amanda,

When Roses are richest in bloom,
And Clematis climbs the verandah,
And full is the air of perfume,
;< To go out of Town in September
Is an absolute duty, 1 know:
I've done it since first I remember—

But, where shall we go ?

" I don't care for Alps in hot weather;
Hill-climbing don't suit men of nous ;
Yery pleasant a tramp through the heather,

Bat scarce, as I hear, are the grouse :
Iceland sounds nice and cool, but they say it

Is turning to lava and snow,
Since volcanos and earthquakes betray it:
So, where shall we go ?

:l There's your Uncle, whose partridge and pheasant
Uncommon good shooting afford ;
But he potters away on the peasant,

Until one is awfully bored.
When a fellow gets so philanthropic,

They should send him to Hanwell, you know.
I can't stand the horrible topic—

So, where shallwe go ?

:' There's Trouville and Deanville patrician,
Where fashions in bathing are fiue,
And the nymph is a very nude vision,

And it costs you a guinea to dine
There's Brighton for fun and flirtation,

The Thames, for a jolly good row:
But I say, with a strange hesitation,

0 where shall we go ? "

Then Amanda she said to Amandtjs :
" There must be some corner divine,

Where the countryfolk can't understand us,
And won't charge us double for wine;

Where, escaping from civilised fetters,
We can hear the cool rivulet flow,

And never be bothered with letters—

Aye, there let us go."

LONDON IN SEPTEMBER.

Mx deab. Me. Punch, September 4, 1375.

I am quite sure that you sympathised with me, when I was
forced, by circumstances over which I had no control, to refuse your
very kind invitation to accompany you and two other " guns" over
the stubble on the ever-glorious First. If a proof were'needed that
your sympathy was sincere, a certain hamper, labelled " Game,"
received at my solitary lodgings yesterday, afforded the proof
required. Your happiness was indeed a contrast to my misery. In
my mind's eye on Wednesday I saw you the whole day. First you
were blazing away behind the dogs; then, under the cover of a
leafy hedge, you were exploring tne succulent treasures of the
luncheon-basket; then (a few hours later), you were driving merrily
home in the dog-cart, so that you might reach the hall in ample
lime to dress for dinner. Yes, we both ;of us know that a certain
amiable and accomplished hostess likes to see her husband and his
Kuests assembled in the drawing-room before the sounding of the
frecond gong. A pleasant dinner, some claret, a little music, and a
pipe in the smoking-room after the ladies had retired. That was
your programme, was it not ?

And what was I doing on the First ? Alas! I was all alone in
London the deserted, London the dull! As everybody knows, there
is not a soul in Town in September. This year is not an exception
to the general rule. As a proof that my assertion is what the
French would call "exact," I send you the diary of my day's work.

After breakfast I walked down Regent Street, and could scarcely
make my way along the pavement for the crowds of red-cheeked
people who blocked the way. Staring into every shop were fathers,
mothers, sisters, and brothers.

Driven from Regent Street, I lounged into the Park, and for my
pains was deafened with the hearty shouts of a thousand vigorous
children. _ Not satisfied with this cruel outrage, they knocked off
my hat with india-rubber balls, and broke my shins with hoops of
wood and iron.

Hurried thus from the streets and the gardens, I determined to

visit some of the "morning entertainments" which during the
Season are so very popular. I looked in upon three, and quickly
looked out again, for I found the-rooms crammed to suffocation.

" There is evidently nobody in the West End of the Town," I
murmured; " then let me try the East."

I walked into the City. I was pushed right and left, and took
ten minutes to cross from the Royal Exchange to the Mansion House.

" The East is every bit as empty as the West," I cried, bitterly,
and turned my face homewards.

Tired out and weary, I went to my second Club (my first is closed
for repairs), and had to wait half an hour for a table. At last I
managed to dine, but the meal was not served comfortably. The
waiters seemed overworked, and the Members Were numerous.
However dinner is a great restorative, and I was soon merry and
sociable. I met a Club friend.

" You here! " he cried, in'surprise.

" You here! " was my very satisfactory answer.

We discussed the dreariness of Town, and after a small cup of
coffee, a smaller glass of curac;oa, and a mild cigar, decided that the
only thing to be done was to go to the play. We sent out for Stalls,
and would you believe it, my dear Mr. Punch, not a single place
could be obtained for love or money I

From this letter you will at once gather that London (as is usually
the case in September) is unquestionably empty.

Yours very mournfully,

The Last Man left "m Town.

The Model Man-of-War.

Above half-a-million of public capital invested in the Vanguard
has been added to the Treasures of the Deep. But the money sunk
at the bottom of St. George's Channel is not all thrown away. • Now
we know what to look out for in case of a war. And, seeing that
the Iron Duke poked her ram through the mail of the Vanguard,
we now clearly discern that all our Ironclads of the future must be
of the Punch type.