Punch (45.1863)

December 12, 1863 i

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

235

HOW, WHEN, AND WHERE?

OR, THE MODERN TOURIST’S GUIDE TO THE CONTINENT.

I 11 HE Tour is finished. .From AnUverpto Interlachen

has been done, and nothing- now remains but to
quit. “To those whom Providence has blessed
with affluence,” we say, winter at Rome, and
as, in that case the present Guide must unfortu-
nately be absent, let one general piece of advice
he given and acted upon; namely, “‘Do’ at
Rome; as they ‘ do ’ at Rome.”

If an intelligent and enlightened Protestant,
be on your guard; such is the ecclesiastical
tyranny in this ancient city, that every waiter
in your hotel is obliged to take orders, and you
may look upon each one of them as a Jesuit in
disguise. Visit the hotel kitchen and in the man
cook behold a Friar. Being accustomed to see
the notice, ‘‘ You are requested to take off your
hat,” stuck up in your own St. Paul’s, you will
make a point of keeping it on, there being no
such requirement in St. Peter’s.

Pooh-pooh everything that is. not strictly
English, and show your own superiority over the
poor superstitious Italians by talking loudly in
the churches, and criticising in any terms ot
artistic slang with which you may be acquainted,
the paintings that adorn the interiors. The truth
of the ancient Proverb will strike anyone after a
walk round the City, viz., that “Pv,ome was not
built in a day.” We must not, however, forestall
a future trip; so if you be bound Romewards,
our paths lie in opposite directions. Farewell.
Homewards, to the coast; and we have nearly
reached the end, at all events the Ost-end, of our
journey. And now, to occupy the time taken up
in retracing much of the old ground, we will
request the Traveller’s attention to a few parting
remarks, the result of our own personal experi-
ence, which we will call—

BUBBLES FROM THE BRUNNEN; OR,
CONTINENTAL BATHS.

The order of the Bath is peculiarly English.
None but the cleanliest of nations would possess
such an honourable decoration. The terms arising
out of the constant use of the bath enters largely
into our ordinary converse. A needy Toady, we
are accustomed to hear, “Sponges” upon his
patron. The sour crab-apple disposition’d man
“throws cold water” upon every jovial proposi-
tion. “ How are you off for Soap ? ” is an inquiry
supposed to relate to the financial resources of
the party interrogated. The moral teaching of
those excellent institutions, “Baths and Wash’-
uses,” is conveyed in the dingy chambers of a
“ Sponging House ; ” and many other instances
will, we doubt not, occur to the careful observer.
Let us not be misunderstood : Foreigners enjoy
a bathe as much, nay perhaps more, than we our-
selves : but the domestic matutinal “Tubbing,”
is on the Continent, comparatively unknown.
The Tourist need not trouble himself to con the French, Italian, or
German for “ Bring us a hip-bath or saucer-bath,” as the case may
be, because he won’t get one, at least not what he wants. To remedy
this great inconvenience, a certain cunning artificer in India rubber,
invented a portable bath of that flexible material.

It was capable of being reduced to the size of an ordinary table
napkin when folded up, and might be carried in the tail coat pocket
with as much facility as a pocket-handkerchief. There were, and ever
will be, a few disadvantages accompanying this ingenious contrivance.
The first is, that supposing you’ve got it with you, everyone in the
carriage begins sniffing and observing that there is “ a strong smell
of india-rubber somewhere.” If you are nervous or bashful this is
unpleasant. If you are neither one nor the other, you will say, “ Dear me,
yes—these carriages are not well ventilated,” and will insist, homoeopa-
thically, upon smoking a cigar. Again, its receptacle in your coat
becomes for ever after a very Pariah of pockets, and impregnates
every article that may be placed in it with a faint sickly smell of india-
rubber.

This bath was fitted up with a brazen mouth-piece, which rendered it
a somewhat unpleasant companion in the hinder pockets of any traveller,
who, forgetful of his treasure, was in the habit of impulsively jumping
nto railway carriages and sitting down sharply. When required for

use, you had to sit down on the floor of your room, cross legged like a
tailor, and applying your lips to the aforesaid mouth-piece, blow
into it with the vigour of at least three professional players sustaining
a note upon the gay bassoon. When we first travelled we purchased
one of these curiosities, intending to go over the wide world like a
cleanly Diogenes. The tale of our tub was brought to a sudden and
unexpected conclusion. It was, if we recollect righr, at St. Gorshausen,
that, while we, orientally squatting as above-mentioned, were engaged
in filling our bath with air, the intelligent waiter entered our room, and
on seeing our undignified occupation, paused, stuttered out an apology
and quickly retired, leaving the door partly open. Now to get up and
shut this door would have been, under the circumstances a waste of
breath, and therefore as we had still a cheerful half hour’s “blow”
before us, we preferred keeping our seat. In a few minutes a
shuffling of leet in the passage and a sort of “hush-hush-hushing”
chorus, made us aware of the presence of the landlord, landlady, his two
daughters, and other members of the establishment, not being otherwise
engaged, who were stealthily peeping into the room. Our host, on
observing that we stopped and probably appeared somewhat angry,
stepped forward, and by way of apology informed me, that “ he and his
family were very musical: and so, hearing that the English gentleman
was just going to play a tune upon quite a new kind of instrument, they
had taken the liberty of being present at the performance.” This had
evidently been the report of the imaginative and artistic waiter. “My
daughters,” continued the landlord, “ have a piano in the house, and
would accompany you with pleasure. Does the English gentleman play

by ear or from notes ? ” After an explanation of the real use of the
machine, we were evidently considered as a harmless lunatic ; an opinion
shared in by everybody except the Boots, upon whose shoulders was
thrown the onerous duty of regularly every morning during my week’s
stay, bringing two buckets lull of water up to my room, six flights
of stairs above the level of the first landing. He went through the
work for three days, but on the fourth morning, he, for we have no
moral doubt that he it was, wreaked his miserable vengeance upon
us. On the previous afternoon he had cut a hole in the bottom of the
bath. Of course there was no one who could, or if they could, would,
mend it. His vengeance was complete ; for as a bath of some sort, was
a necessity, we had to take those at the bottom of the house, fitted up
in its foundations, to which we had to descend exactly eight flights
of stairs. But we were fertile in expedients for torturing the malicious
menial; so we made him come up the usual six flights to fetch our
sponge, soap, towels, and hair-brushes; descend eight flights following
us on our way to the bat> ; and finally, when we had finished our ablu-
tions, he was summoned to ascend the eight flights, bearing the afore-
said requisites back again to our chamber. We had lost our pet luxury,
and now began our travels in search of a tub, with what, success shall
be hereafter shown.

Lord Dundreary, Mr. Tupper, and " Cithara.”

“ I thay, whath this new book of Tuppartii ? He calls it Thithawa,
which is a word no fellah can be expected to thay. Thithawa ! Ith it
a thing of patht.e and Thithawth ? Or no, stop, that, ithn’t it. It mutht
be thomething about my fwiend, Earl Klthell’s motto, “ Che-
thawa-thawa.” That’s it, and now I ’ll just tliell Master Tham with
the widdle.”



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