Punch (7.1844)

256

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

TRAVELLING NOTES

by our fat contributor.

II.—THE SHIP AT SEA.—DOLORES !

victuals that we eat or not, as weather permits, near which stands 8
living likeness of Mr. Jones, the third engineer ; to the left and run-
ning along the side of the paddle-boxes are all sorts of mysterioug
little houses painted green, from which mates, mops, cabin-boys,
black-engineers, and oily cook's-assistants emerge; above is the
deck between the two paddle-boxes, on which the captain walks in his
white trousers and telescope (you may catch a glimpse of the former),
and from which in bad weather he, speaking-trumpet in hand, rides
the whirlwind and directs the storm. Those are the buckets in case
of fire ; see how they are dancing about ! because they have nothing
else to do—I trust they will always remain idle. A ship on fire is a
conveyance by which I have no mind to travel.

Farther away, by the quarter-deck ladder, you see accurate

he first thing that a narrow-
minded individual does on ship-
board is to make his own berth
comfortable at the expense of
his neighbours. The next is to

criticise the passengers round * aJ"aJ> uuc 4uai lc'-uc™ iauuci ) Be« auuuraws

about him portraits of Messrs. Mac Whirter and Mac Murdo, of Oporto

-r. ' i t. n •. ' and St. Mary's, wine-merchants : and far, far away, on the quarter-
Do you remark, when Britons j 1 1 J ll J.. Jill • 1_ ,1 I- 1 i_- •
meet with what a scowl th ! ' close tne dark helmsman, with the binnacle shining

,7 before his steadfast eyes,and the English flag streaming behind him
salute each other, as much as to • „ „„„f , , < . 6 °„ ,

,,t,, ' , , .. (it is a confounded head-wind)—you see—O my wildly beating,

say, Bless your eyes, what the L,_ .__„ , , . ' nnrADroi

an el do ou do here ? Youn ^ susceptible heart !—you see DOLORES !

Se 0 y°u o lere . oung j r write her name with a sort of despair. I think it is four hours

travellers, that is to say, adopt___• T , , r „, ... ,

this fascinatin mode of intr since I wrote that word on the paper, lhey were at dinner, but

duction I am old in v ' (tor a particular reason,) I cared not to eat, and sat at my desk apart.
T -.ill a ^°y^SmS The dinner went away, either down the throats of the eager passen-

—1 go up with a bland smile to ,___„__, ,. \ , • j L j x.

b f T gers, or to the black caboose whence it came—dessert passed—the

one and every passenger. I „ „ ' . , , , . , • f

, A. ~ n 6 ,, sun set—tea came—the moon rose—she is now high in heaven, and

originate some clever observation about the fineness of the weather .i . j • i • *i .t_- j n bi • •-i t i

■ c xi i j- t , i -j i x ; lne steward is laying the supper things, and all this while 1 have

—it there are ladies, I manage to make some side appeal to them, , .1 ■ i • tn t> V\ ■

, . , . c ' , • , i, -r , been thinking of Dolores, Dolores, Dolores !

which is sure ot a tender appreciation : above all, if there are old o> ■ e cc ■ A -j r

, j. r , , j ■ i • i tii* y ohe is a little far oft m the picture: but by the aid of a microscope,

ladies, tat ladies, very dropsical, very sea-sick, or uglv ladies, I pay „, j • v i. r t. j v ■ *

, ,. ' ». -r J i • • i 6 J -i, , my dear sir, vou may see every lineament of her delicious counte-

them some delicate attention—1 go up and insinuate a pillow under r u i- .v. j i_- i_ j u c • £ a

., • r . T . , i 6_<. • , T i ■ f, , ,, , nance—every fold of the drapery which adorns her fair form, and

their poor teet. In the intervals of sickness I whisper, " a leetle hot ?u j * x*. i t -r n, u , tvj
, r j , ,„ . ,, ,, ... f ' . , falls down to the loveliest foot m the world ! Did you ever see any-

sherry and water ! All these little kindnesses act upon their deli- +. • „ ri ,, . , , , ■ i A . „i • „„ „__. '

r iT1 . . . ^ „ , thing like that ankle ?—those thin, open-worked stockings make my

cate hearts, and I know that they say to themselves, " How exceed- v,„ S ii___■ • j u 11 * t „ u a ■ .V i___nil

, ,. ' , ., , , it . f ,J . „' heart thump in an indescribable rapture. 1 would drink ner health

ingly polite and well-bred that stout young man is. . f ,r, . ,T r,. , r ,j t. v

°V, . , , „ , „ J 6 out of that shoe : but I swear it would not hold more than a liqueur

"It s a pity he s so iat, savs one. i v 4, r , . .. , . .u t t „v.„ u „ *„

i . /, , , ' . - „ . , , Al glass of wine. Before she left us—ah me! that I should have to

Yes, but then he s so active, ejaculates another. °-, ,i , 7 T , . , . , , v1 . ,. « „ „v^m;

. , ,. ' J ,, , , . , , write the words left us—I tried to make her likeness; but the abomi-

And thus you, my dear and ingenuous youth who read tlns,and whom nable brute of a s4am.erjgine shook 80j that-would you believe it V-
I recommend to lay to heart every single word of it—I am adored by thig is a]1 j could make Qb. tbe loveliest face in the world ,
all my tellow passengers. When they go ashore they feel a pang at
parting with their amiable companion. I am only surprised that I
have not been voted several pieces of plate upon these occasions—
perhaps, dear youth, if you follow my example you may be more
lucky.

Acting upon this benevolent plan, I shall not begin satirically to
describe the social passengers that tread with me the deck of the
Lady Mary Wood. I shall not, like that haughty and supercilious
wretch with the yellow whiskers, yonder, cut short the gentle efforts
at good fellowship which human beings around me may make—
or grumble at the dinner, or the head-wind, or the narrowness of the
berths, or the jarring of the engines—but shall make light of all these
—nay, by ingenuity, turn them to a facetious and moral purpose.

Here, for instance, is a picture of the ship, taken under circumstances dolores_a sketch taken in rough weather.

of great difficulty—over the engine-room—the funnel snorting, the
ehip's sides throbbing, as if in a fit of ague. I look even at that with a melancholy pleasure. It is not very like

her, certainly ; but it was drawn from her—it is not the rose, but it
has been near it. Her complexion is a sort of gold colour—her eyes
of a melting, deep, unfathomably deep, brown—and as for her hair,
the varnish of my best boots for evening parties is nothing compared
to it for blackness and polish.

She used to sit on the quarter-deck of sunny afternoons, and
smoke paper cigars—oh if you could have seen how sweetly she-
smiled and how prettily she puffed out the smoke ! I have got a bit
of one of them which has been at her sweet lips. I shall get a gold box
to keep it in some day when I am in cash. There she sat smoking,
and the young rogues of the ship used to come crowding round her.
Mac Whirter was sorry she didn't stop at Oporto, Mac Murdo
was glad because she was going to Cadiz—I warrant he was—my
heart was burst asunder with a twang and a snap, and she carried
away half of it in the Malta boat, which bore her away from me for
ever.

Dolores was not like your common mincing English girls—she
There ! I flatter myself that is a master-piece of perspective. If! had always a repartee and a joke upon her red lips which made
the Royal Academy would exhibitor Mr. Moon would publish a every one around her laugh-some of these jokes I would repeat
large five guinea plate of the « main-deck of a steamer," how the j were it not a breach of confidence; and had they not been uttered m
public would admire and purchase ! With a little imagination, you the Spanish language, of which I don t understand a word. So I
may fancy yourself on shipboard. Before you is the iron grating, used to sit quite silent and look at her full in the face fcr hours and
up to which you see peeping every minute the pumping head of the hours, and offer her my homage that way.

engine ; on the right is the galley, where the cook prepares the You should have seen how Dolores ate too ! Our table wa