Punch (71.1876)

September 9, 1876-1 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

me ; I mean, I shall find a letter or a telegram, if you send one, at
Post Office, Dublin. Is this clear ? How's the case getting on f "

A Real Happy Thought for a Postscript.—" Try and do without
my evidence, as what I know of the matter will he dead against
your side. Yours ever, &c."

Evidently that will stagger Plumpton and hother Spey. It
means, in effect, " Don't call me as your witness, or you '11 lose."

Now to Bray. Most unfortunate name as falling unavoidably
into the form of expression. I suppose the elegant witticism of
pointing to a passenger and saying "There's a donkey going to
Bray" must have long ago been exhausted in every form. Thank
goodness for that.

It is impossible to help remarking at all Stations on the Irish lines,
the charmingly careless manner of the officials. They are all pecu-
liarly polite, but they seem to be taking their duty as a pleasure, and
not to be after botherin' themselves about the punctuality of the trains.
An Irish porter never knows exactly when the next train is going,
nor where it is going to. But, clearly, this concerns the passenger,
not him. Yet, on the whole, in spite of this carelessness of manner,
this utter absence of all fussiness—for no one ever yet saw any
Irishman in a hurry—is only characteristic of the people, and not any
evidence of unpunctuality on the part of the trains. On the contrary,
my experience is—if called as a witness in a committee-room on a
question of Irish lines—that they do keep time admirably. Their
careless manner is rather suggestive of a kind of cheerful fatalism,
—that is, an " all-right-in-the-end " view,—than of any want of
confidence in the railways, and those who manage them.

The Irish, in respect of conduct at Railway Stations all along the
line—for I am reviewing them all along the line-

Happy Thought.—A first-rate subject for Miss Thompson, when

103

tired of the Military, would be—" The Old {Railway) G uard—A
Review all along the Line." I make this a present to the justly
celebrated artist whose motto should be from the song of the Grande
Duchesse, "Ah, qiiej'aime les Militaires / "

But, " Proceed? Your story interests me much."

As I was saying, when I was interrupted, the conduct of the Irish
at Railway Stations reminds me of the French and Belgian country
people at their gares on fete days, when trains run anyhow, at any
time and at all times, on any lines and on all lines, when peasants,
ladies, gentlemen, soldiers, ecclesiastics, police, officials, porters,
women with flags, or bells, or horns (in their hands, Men entendu—
horns to blow as signal "for the train to start—or bells in their
horny hands—suggestion for a joke for Hoene Tooee, or Sheeidan,
or Sydney Smith) , all wander about the lines quite calmly and most
happily, occasionally drawing aside to allow an engine to pass, and
helping their friends to descend from the compartments, which are
at some distance from the ground, and to reach a platform is out of
the question.

Once get into your head that " There's no occasion to hurry," and
travelling in Ireland becomes a pleasure : only you must enter into
this peculiar phase of Irish humour. And, above all things, you
must adopt the " all-right-in-the-end " philosophy of De. O'Kjsmet.

The Tourist in Ireland should not have any clear idea of where he
is going to next. He may, just for the sake of the Clerk at the
ticket-office, and of his luggage—if any to speak of—name a desti-
nation, but it will be more in keeping with the tone of the people if
he is prepared to stop at some unexpectedly attractive spot on the
road, have his luggage out, and remain there until he has had
enough of it.

In this spirit I " go for " Bray.

THE FRENCH ON THE FIRST.

nly the other day
a new French
paper was esta-
blished in Paris,
under the sug-
gestive title of
Le^, Sportsman,
which, doubtless,
will soon be-
come as popular
amongst our
neighbours as
PelVs Life is
with us. As the
journal is a new
one, Mr. Punch
has much' plea-
sure in presenting
its proprietors
with a report of
Sport on the First which has been
furnished to him by an experienced
French " Gentlemans-Ridere," re-
gardless of expense :—

Hotel de France et Les Deux Mondes, W. C,
September 1, 1876.

My Deae Editoe-in-Chiee,

You have asked me am I Sportsman ? It was an insult!
A Frenchman is always brave. To be Sportsman one must also be
brave. Therefore a Frenchman is always Sportsman. Why ? Be-
cause he is brave. " This may not be truth," you say. No. It is
something better—it is logic !

I am Sportsman, and I have many friends of distinction who are
also Sportmans. They are French. On August 31st we met at
your grandest London square—your square where William Shak-
spieeee (the Immortal Williams ! Ah! he was a great man, a
very great man—nearly as great as our own Alexandee Dumas)
points to a fountain which plays but seldom, and we discussed—you
ask what ? What should " Gentlemans-Rideres " discuss ? Why,
the Sport Long live the Sport! We decided, we three " Gentle-
mans-Rideres," to go and shoot your partridges, your swallows, your
pheasants, your rabbits, your sea-gull! Ah ! you think we French
do not know your Sport—your 1st September! You are mistaken !
Miserables, you are all mistaken! We know the Sport very well.

We dressed in full costume; we were prepared for the terrors of
the Chase. The Maeuuis de Chateau Oedlnalee wore green
velvet, the Vicomte de Pommes Feltes blue satin, and I red cloth,
for I love to chase the artful hare. We all had large horns worn

round the body, and our hunting swords dangled at our sides. The
Marquis, as our leader, wore a plume of feathers in his jocke hat —
our jocke hats were only trimmed with gold. You see, we French
Sportmans know how to dress.

We took our places in the train, and soon reached the wood we
had.fixed on. It belonged to a gentleman who had advertised. I
quote his communication; it has appeared in your Times :—

SHOOTING over 1500 Acres for Two Months.—A Gentleman, having
been prevented from shooting his well-preserved Manor, is desirous of
having two or three Gentlemen to shoot.

This Sportsman he could not shoot his manor! Then could he
shoot us r We would put him to the test, and prove your boasted
" crack shots " was a nonsense. France would then triumph, as she
has always triumphed. Is she not Civilisation ? And is not Civilisa-
tion another name for Triumph ? If you do not believe me, ask
Victoe Hugo. It is his affair.

When we reached this assassin "Gentlemans-Ridere " he explained
himself to us. He did not wish to shoot us. It was not to be a duel,
but'a bargain. A bargain ! You are miserables, you are touts, you
are a nation of shopkeepers ! The advertising assassin wished to let
his shooting at so much a.month! The advertisement was an insxdt,
a nonsense!

But were we to be baulked ? . We had come to brave danger—to be
baptised with fire. We made up our minds. We could undergo
something more dreadful, more dangerous, than a duel. We would
go out shooting with one another ! Had we not all been provided
with shot-proof under-waistcoats, who would have lived ? We fired
at everything ? And the result ? We made a " bags " ! Ah! you
see we know your terms of sport! We have a " Tatter sail's
Francais," we have also a " bags " ! This was the contents of our
"bags":—

One Plume of Green Feathers, shot off the jocke hat of M. le
Marquis.

Two Pigs. The Viscount aimed at a stack of hay and killed the
" porkeres."

One Dog. He got in my way as I was shooting at a Cow.
One Finger, belonging to M. le Vicomte. M. le Marquis was the
marksman.

One Sheep. He walked up to my gun to taste it as I was letting
it off.

And one Fox! We all killed him ! Hurrah! Hip, hip, hip !

But you insolent islanders are unsympathetic! Instead of carry-
ing us home in triumph, the villagers (whom we had summoned to
our sides with a long solo on our horns) heaped upon our heads
reproaches. Nay, it was worse. M. le Marquis was actually bathed
in the pond of horses! But we will be avenged! Our children
shall avenge us ! You hear, our children shall avenge us! Beware
and tremble!

We left the country amidst great " reclamations^' and travelled
home. When we got to Leicester Square the 1st of September was
over!

Receive my salutations the most distinguished.

{Signed) Le'CheVallee Canaed.