Punch (71.1876)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 14, 1876.

EVERYDAY FARCES.

No. I.—" Shells of the Ocean."

Sea Shore, about
six miles East of
Shoeburyness.

Mr. Stills o
Gently (standing
on the Beach at low
tide). Ah ! m y
dear ! This is, in-
deed, a happy
thought, to leave
the whirl, and
■what - you - may-
call-it of the Me-
tropolis, without
risk of being found
in by one's credi-
tors, or found out
by one's friends.

Mrs. Stillso
Gently. Yes, love;
hut if I had not
seen the advertise-
ment in the Times,

and answered it myself, we never should have discovered it. So quiet, and
so cheap!

Mr. Stillso Gently. I can't conceive why so few cottages are to be found
here, and not a villa, or a bathing-machine nearer than Heme Bay, over the
water.

Mrs. Stillso Gently. That's the beauty of the place. "We may get tired of it,
and of each other.

Mr. Stillso Gently. Never, dear! never! It will be a second Honeymoon
in another Paradise.

Mrs. Stillso Gently. I say we may; but I don't think it probable.

Mr. Stillso Gently.' This is our first day, darling, and the sun smiles upon
us. There is an entrancing quiet!

Mrs. Stillso Gently. A beautiful calm!

Mr. Stillso Gently. Exactly. A sweet tranquillity
which no human power can encroach upon. The ripples
of the tide can just be heard like—like—■

Mrs. Stillso Gently. Just so, love; likepeasupon a plate.

Mr. Stillso Gently. Or rain-drops on the panes.

Mrs. Stillso Gently. Yes, love ; or the water coming
into the cistern.

Mr. Stillso Gently. In moments like these (tenderly)
a man feels what a true protector he is to the woman he
loves.

\_An unearthly scream is heard, and a mass of iron,
hurtling through the air, falls into the muddy
sand in front of them, sending up a small geyser
of icater into the air. Mks. Stillso Gently
falls screaming on her face, and Stillso Gently
makes a rash for shelter.
Mr. Stillso Gently (behind a hedge). Goodness gracious!
What can that be ? (Looking over the hedge, he observes
Mas. Stillso Gently screaming and kicking on the
sand.) Don't be a fool, Aurora ! If you are not crippled,
get up, do! What the deuce can it be ?

[A Range-finding Sergeant of Artillery, on horse-
back, is seen making his way towards them, and
gesticulating.

Mrs. Stillso Gently (recovering). Oh! please don't kill
me!

Mr. Stillso Gently. Armed forces ! then we are safe.
Aeroea, I am near you. There is no further danger. The
Commander-in-Chief has sent his Aide - de - Camp to
inquire after you.

Range Sergeant (riding up). Tare and ' Ouns, come
out o' that! Sure the Eighty-wonn Ton's practysing,
and your familee won't know ye from the jilly fish av
ye stay down here. Begorra, there's the Darlint spakin'
again!

[Another scream worse than the first, and a rush
as of mighty pinions, followed by a crash, leads
the Stillso Gentlys to understand why their
rent is'so moderate. Tableau.

HAPPY-THOUGHT NOTES IN IRELAND.

Experiences—Avoca—Meeting of the Waters—Inspiration — On
Car-riding —Janus adapted— Woodenbridge—Hotel—Prospect
—Dublin again—En route—■ Companions — Killarney— The
First View—The Second—The Bell—Complications—Off for
the Lakes.

I qeit Glendalough with regret. One hour ago I was in such
ecstasies with the place that, even had Plempton and Spry tele-
graphed to me " Come! " I sbould have wired back " P. and S. be
blessed! I don't stir from here for weeks."

This is my constant experience in this country. A lovely place
on Tuesday is followed by a lovelier on Wednesday, and by a still
more beautiful one on Thursday. So you go on, exceeding super-
latives. We drive away over the mountain, and down the other side I to the rail of a car. The habitut does not. The latter rides fear-

the driver professes himself satisfied, why, so do I. Of one thing I
am perfectly certain, that, as far as mending the spring goes, I could
not have done it better myself. Again he urges on his wild career.

Undoubtedly there is no more advantageous way of seeing the
country than travelling everywhere by car. At first you run the
chance of establishing a wry neck for the remainder of your days.
This can be avoided by occasionally changing seats with your driver,
to whom position is not nine points of the Law of the Road. Biding
on a car is an art; and only those who have a natural turn of the
neck for it acquire it easily. The question is how to be the looker-on
who will see most of the game with the least amount of discomfort,
including the smallest possible chance of being jerked off, inadver-
tently, round a corner.

The first method is to sit side-saddle-wise, holding, of course, on
to the rail. Every Saxon visiting Ireland for 1 he first time holds on

at full trot. " The English people," says my man, " don't see the
best part of the country, for the Carmen won't take them this
a-way : 'tis too heavy a road."

So it appears I am in luck ; though which is the best part of the
country where all is so striking, it would be difficult to say. How-
ever, I put this down to my driver's politeness, and his desire to
give me the greatest gratification in the shortest possible time.

Now my Carman falls to quoting "Tommy Moore," as he calls
him, and informs me that we are in the Yale of Avoca.

In the Vale of Avoca at the Meeting of the Waters.—A jolt, a
snap, a crack, and the car comes down, or, rather, one side of the car
comes down, with a bump. The springs bave " given " somewhere.

Happy Thought.—We mark our arrival at the " Meeting of the
Waters " by the " separation of the springs."

Luckily, there is a blacksmith's near at hand ; and so, pointing
out "Tommy Moose's Oak," my driver leaves me to wander
about the meadows, and admire the scenery, while he refreshes him-
self and the horse, and gets the spring mended.
A lovely spot! And, d propos of Tommy Moore's Oak," a tra-

lessly, jauntily, easily. He seems to spring ivith the car, to rise
when it rises, to fall when it falls (wdiich I didnH, thank goodness!),
and, in fact, to yield to all its motions gracefully.

You feel, on a car, that the possibility is offered you of looking all
ways at once; that somehow this can be done, if you only know how
to do it. You can't help trying it. You look behind ; you look
before ; you look to the right; you look to the left; and you wish
you were Janus—the only person except Argus, perhaps, whose
natural peculiarity would have specially suited him for an habitue
of an Irish outside car.

Happy Thought.—Uombine the two as a title for a Tourists' Book,
and call it Fc-argus C Janus; or, Two Heads are Better than One !
Being a Narrative of a Journey of a Thousand Miles on an Outside
Car.

Woodenbridge.—Another lovely spot! Such an air of calm and
rest as we arrive, at eventide, at this comfortable-looking hotel,
which commands a view of one of the most picturesque parts of the
country through which the line of rail passes, i dine, and am
thankful. I am thankful for small mercies, as the dinner is but a

veller in Ireland ought to have Moore at his fingers' ends. Inspired sorry affair for such a bright-looking Hostelrie. Perhaps "in the
by the traditional poetry of the place, I lie by the stream, and burst! Season " it may be better. Let us hope so. I am "out of the
into song :— j Season," and, like most things out of season, perhaps I am not worth

" The lambkins are bloating, the trouble expended upon me. The accommodation (so to speak)

The minutes are fleeting, is about equal to that at Rathdrum, only, being more pretentious,

The waters are meeting, ft 0Ught to be better. It isn't a patch upon the sweet little Hotel of

By ' Tommy MooRE'sOak.'" Glendalough. So wake up, Woodenbridge !

I 'm here at Avoca
Arrived in a Low car,
But now I have no car
Bekase the spring broke.

Happy Thought.—For this, as a May poem, to call it, in allusion
to the accident that brought me here, The Break of the Spring.

No message from Plempton and Spey. So back to Dublin, aud
thence to Killarney.

The car is mended with some cord and a stout piece of wood. As Kdlarncy! Am I indeed going to Killarney! Dreams of my