Punch (61.1871)

Octobek 7, 1871.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

U9

LONDON IN AUTUMN.

elebrateb Mk. Punch.—I am a
young man, and 1 have the
misfortune to be a younger
son. It is therefore not asto-
nishing that I am compelled to
work for my own living. I
have to work, moreover, for
my wife and my small family,
and, as my small family is
rather great in appetites, I find
that it is dear to me in more
than one sense of that adjec-
tive. So when Jemi.ua last
July asked me where and when
I meant to take her for the
holidays, I was forced to bear
in mind the coming sixpence
Income-tax, and to avouch
that business, in the absence
of my senior partner, would
keep me chained to town until
the middle of October, and as
this would be too late for
Switzerland or Norway, I
thought Ave must content our-
selves this year with Dover,
say, or Worthing. Jemima
pouted, and, of course, said that she cared not for herself, but that
the doctor thought dear baby required foreign air, while dear
Geoegt vastly needed a week or two at least of continental diet.
But Jemima has great reverence for my senior partner, who stood
godfather to baby, and when I hinted at the benefits which might
accrue to that sweet child from my obliging his old godpapa,
Jemima struck her flag and sheered off from the battle.

Now, when I first thought of spending a September here in
London, I felt inclined to fancy that, if I survived, I should have
shown myself deserving of the Order of Valour. But I have passed
a month so pleasant that I feel there has been no great merit in the
feat, and I should not vastly wonder if my business should compel
me next year to repeat it. So, for the profit and instruction of my
fellow working-men, I will jot down half a score or so of the
advantages of being kept in town in early autumn :—■

1. All your family and friends will pity and condole with you ;
and possibly your rich uncle will be so deeply moved by the sad
tale which they will tell of your distress, that he will volunteer to
pay the whole cost of your holiday.

2. Your tradesmen will be extra civil and obliging, and will not
dream of troubling you for their small accounts, while you are well
nigh their sole remaining customer.

3. You will daily get the pick of what your fishmonger displays :
and you may eat sweetbreads, if you like them, for less than a sixth
part of what they cost you in the season.

4. You can hire your horses cheap, and ride in Rotten Row as
hard as ever you like, without the slightest fear of cannoning, or
capsizing people.

5. If you do meet an acquaintance, he becomes a bosom friend to
you, and you mutually discover that you were born to be acquainted.

G. You will get the best seats at the theatre, without the need of
booking them, and you may drive up to the doors without a
moment's waiting.

7. You may occupy for hours the easiest of the chairs, the plea-
santest of the papers, and the commonly most crowded of the
windows at your Club, without the faintest risk of seeing a fellow
you don't like, or a bore to bother you.

8. You may safely cross the West-End thoroughfares where and
when you please, without being kept waiting by a half-mile queue
of carriages.

9. You may, with equal safety, venture to escort your wife down
Regent Street, for she will see no temptingly new bonnets in the
windows.

10. Finally, when at length your martyrdom is over, and you do
get out of town, you will get your sea-side lodgings at a quarter of
the price which you would earlier have paid for them ; and, more-
over, you will leave town with a cheerful countenance, just when
your unhappy friends with gloomy, albeit sunburnt, faces are re-
turning to it.

These are some of the sweet uses I have found in the adversity
which has kept me this September a prisoner to London ; and now
I am still further rewarded for my bravery by having the good
fortune of writing you this letter, and by seeing once more inscribed
in your immortal pages the name of yours, most humbly,

Sparta Place, Tuesday. Epaminonbas Beown.

COUNTRY LETTER.

Doonbraes Castle, Clydeforth, N.B.,
September 23, 1871.
Mr beak Algernon,

I am glad to hear that you are passing your vacation
at the Merecroft. A few weeks' sojourn at your Cousin Edwabb's
farm will, I trust, speedily restore you to your accustomed health.

Your mother tells us that you have been overworked. This I can
readily understand, remembering what your exertions have been
since Easter. If I am right in my recollection, I believe that in a
single week, in the month of July, you attended four breakfast parties,
two morning concerts, one fancy fair, one flower show, one founda-
tion stone, one presentation of colours, six luncheons, five garden
parties, five dinner parties, several kettle-drums, nine balls, and the
Opera, and made many calls, and appeared in the Park besides. It
is not, therefore, surprising if there is something amiss with that
indefinite article, the system; and your best cure will be the in-
vigorating breezes which sweep across the Highwolds.

As this is, I believe, your first visit of any duration to the
country, I will lay down a few rules for your guidance, which you
will do well to read over, both when you retire to rest at night and
when you rise in the morning.

The greatest mistake you can commit is to imagine that you ought
to do nothing all day but lounge on the grass under the apple-trees,
idly gazing at the blue sky, or eating fruit, or reading frivolous
books, or laughing and jesting with your cousins. My advice to you
is, that you should devote your leisure to some rational pursuit—to
Natural History, for example, for which the country offers such
an ample field—and seek to make yourself thoroughly master of some
branch of that interesting science. Take up wasps, or snails, or
glow-worms, or hedgehogs, with a fixed determination to become
an authority on the particular creatures you select for investigation,
so that in time you may be pointed out in society as the celebrated
Me. Taxalltjm, who knows more about, say, owls or ladybirds,
than any man in Europe.

Interest yourself in all the agricultural operations which may be
in progress while you are under your cousin's hospitable roof. Do
not be satisfied merely to ask after the harvest or the turnips, but be
earnest in your inquiries about the rotation of crops, corn averages,
irrigation, subsoils, the newest improvements in implements, and
the cultivation of Italian rye-grass. You can have no idea how
useful you will find such information as you may be able to glean
on these and similar topics, when you resume your more serious
duties at the dinner-tables of your wealthy and influential friends
in the metropolis.

Be kind to the poultry. Their life is but a short one, and we,
who owe so much to them, should do our best to make it a happy
one. A little civility (especially if accompanied with a little corn)
goes a long way. The Silver-spangled Hamburghs will never
forget it; the Brahmapoutras will cackle about it to the end of their
days.

Enter affably into conversation with every one you meet in your
rambles, without requiring the formality of an introduction. _ Prac-
tise stenography, that you may be prepared to note down in your
pocket-book, on the instant, every peculiarity of dialect and idiom,
and all local proverbs, sayings, superstitions, customs, folk-lore,
stories, traditions, legends, recipes, &c. Obtain from, the agricul-
tural labourers all the statistical information you can collect. Ask
them, for instance, how many acres they have ploughed since they
reached manhood, how many turnips (as near as they can calculate)
they hoed when they were young, and how many cows they have
milked in their lives ; and do not neglect to question them closely
as to the eminent persons who have been born or who have resided
in the neighbourhood. When you part, shake their honest horny
hands, with a courteous smile, giving them your card and an invi-
tation to call upon you when next they come to Town.

If possible, attempt some of the minor operations of agriculture.
Milk a cow, or handle a churn, or scatter grain for the poultry, and
collect their eggs; or, at least, learn to distinguish a Devon from a
Hereford, and to discriminate the difference between a hogg and a
gimmer.

Be prepared to take a gun, or throw a fly, or draw a badger,
or mount a mettlesome horse, or drive a waggonette down hills
with a considerable incline, and through narrow lanes with sharp
turns ; and whatever your ignorance or inexperience may be, have
the wisdom not to acknowledge it.

Rise early, and brush the dew off the meadows for miles round,
before you return to a milk breakfast—your bright leather shoes will
hardly be suitable for these morning excursions. Drink plenty of
buttermilk and whey and home-made wines, and partake of a hearty
supper before you retire to rest. Never be out of bed after ten o'clock.

Wear thick boots with nails in them ; use a stout walking-stick,
or better still a spud; and accept from your Aunt and myself the