Punch (71.1876)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 26, 1876.

WHERE

0 Aix -la - Cha-
pelle. If you are
disappointed with
life, and wish to
experience dul-
lness in all its
native purity. If
you have no ob-
jection to suicide,
drink the waters.

To Boulogne.
If you love to
hear French
spoken as it is at
Putney. If rink-
ing (with the sun
at 80° in the re-
frigerator) is a
pleasant distrac-
tion. If you like
"Porto" with a
very strong bou-
quet.

To Canter-
bur]/. If you are
fond of cricket,
cathedrals, and
amateur theatri-
cals. Of course, if you find the city is too lively, you can make
an excursion to Heme Bay the Hilarious, or to Broadstairs, the birth-
place of Broad Grins.

To Dieppe. If you like your wife to dress six times a day. If
you don't mind the passage from Newhaven. If you wish your
children to pick up the French tongue with a slight Billingsgate
(adapted from the English) flavour.

To Ems. If you delight in listening to anecdotes about German
Royalty, and do not object to paying regal prices for your board
and lodging at the leading hotels.

To Folkestone. If the arrival of the boat from Boulogne on a
rough day is an attraction to you. If you are fond of the society of
Aldershott-by-the-Sea.

To Gravesend. If your soul does not soar above shrimps, " happy
days " at Rosherville, and sixpences extra for hot water and weak
tea.

To Hammersmith. If you are passionately attached to the
Metropolitan and District Railways, and have a sneaking liking for
Shepherd's Bush.

To Interlacken. If you wish to watch the manners and customs
of those who avail themselves of "Tourist Tickets" and "Hotel
Coupons," and like your English without the letter H.

To Jersey. If you want to see a place where England is con-
sidered a " sister island," and where a French-speaking race would
certainly not be English, if by any change in their nationality they
could avoid becoming French.

To Kiel. If the birth-place of the German Navy interests you,
and you like a watering-place governed from Berlin.

To Lucerne. If you don't want to lose sight of the long-familiar
faces of London. If you delight to hear Brown's attempts at French,
and Smith's attacks upon German. If you appreciate a good dinner
at the Schweitzerhoff.

To Monaco. If you consider it the thing to meet the "lucky
men " of the Clubs, the beardless Subalterns of the crack Cavalry
regiments, and the young Ladies who are going to belong to Prince's
the moment they have kissed hands at Court.

To Naples. If you like to be hot and are partial to macaroni. If
you have never seen Vesuvius and think it advisable to supplement
the knowledge you have attained in the Courts of the Crystal Palace
with an excursion to Pompeii.

To Ostend. If you really want a good, dull, dirty town—to get
away from. If an overdressed crowd of cosmopolitans is a pleasing
sight to you.

_ To Paris. If you do not mind sunstroke, cheap tourists, and old
pieces. If you want to prove to your own satisfaction that the
celebrated saying should be altered to " Only bad Americans go to
Paris in August, when they die."

To Quebec. If you are not particularly popular and wish to give
your friends at home a little holiday by your absence.

To Iiotterdam. If you enjoy a long sea journey and are never so
happy as when you are staying at damp hotels and meeting dull-
looking people.

To Scarborough. If you are fond of adaptations from the French
and wish to see Boulogne, plus Margate, Brompton, Sheffield, and
Upper Tooting, settled noisily down upon the coast of Yorkshire.

To Torquay. If you consider yourself an invalid and wish to
behave as such.

To Vienna. If you want to see life, and are fond of beer that
frequently cheers and only occasionally inebriates.

To Waterloo. If you are staying at Brussels, and don't mind
travelling in company with " 'Arry " and his friend " 'Enery."

To Xeres. If you have only tasted doctored sherry and wish to
drink the genuine article.

To Yarmouth. If you have a fond devotion for bloaters and
desire to buy some of an inferior quality to those only to be obtained
in London.

To Zanzibar. If you are a good-natured fellow, and don't mind
going a short journey to say "How d'ye do ? " to the Sot/tan for his
dear friend (and yours too, if you like), Mr. Punch.

HAPPY THOUGHTS.

Through Journey—Express—Boat—Notes on Anticipations—

Arrival.

Happy Thought.—Off !

Fellow-passenger in train, who talks to me for half-an-hour
under the impression that everybody must be going, as he is, to the
Chester Races. Finding that I am not bound, for that sporting
meeting, and that, moreover, I am personally unacquainted with
any Winner of the Derby within the last five years, and that I have
no "fancy" for the "Thousand Guineas," or somethit ^bf that
sort, at Newmarket, he loses all interest in me, and, pulling a cap
over his ears, and wrapping his long, light, check-patterned Ulster
over his legs, he is off to sleep. No other passengers. Quick, easy-
going train this !

At Crewe.—After we have waited here a few minutes, Guard
asks, " Any more Irish train P " as if we were a dish, like Irish stew.
It being ascertained that no one (at Crewe, at least) does want any
more Irish train, they get rid of us as quickly as possible. Again
it urges on its mild career.

Through Wales. Wales fast asleep. Welsh moonlight. Subject
for Academy picture. No. 289, " Welsh Mutton asleep in Welsh
Moonlight," by Miss Elizabeth Thompson, a peace offering to the
Academy. Wonder what the passage across will be like. Wonder
if it will be worse than I anticipate. No ; it can't be worse. I have
heard they are magnificent boats. My only idea of a "magnificent "
boat, is one in which you cannot feel the movement when it is in
motion.

" Impossible ! " says some one. " Not at all! " I reply. " Isn't
the world moving round and round, in the giddiest possible manner,
perpetually? and do we feel the motion? No." Let a scientific
person think this out, and construct a new packet-boat for the
Channel.

On Board.—It is a fine vessel—that is, as to size and accommoda-
tion. Steward (Irish, of course) most polite. He shows me to a
cupboard, fitted up with shelves on which to put passengers away.
This cabin recalls to my mind the horrors of the Antwerp passage on
board the gallant Baron Osy. Passengers are drinking and eating.

Happy Thought.—Don't look at them. Shut myself into cup-
board, and play at going to bed, as if I were still on shore, or stay-
ing (I will suppose) with a bachelor friend who could only give me a
shake-down. . . . I begin by " making believe " with the foregoing
idea in view. ... I change it to playing at being asleep on a sofa
in a badly-built house during a gale. . . . This ingenious notion
will sufficiently account for the sound of the cracking of the timbers,
and the undulating movement of the couch (not a bed or a sofa now)
and the noise outside. ... As the noise outside increases, I have to
add " the water coming in," and imagine myself in a London house
on a Monday morning, in bed in some room near the tank when

" the water comes in." . . . Now I will play at going to sleep. . . .

******

If sleep won't come—out, out, brief note-book.

Sfc %r Sff Hi

A novelist writes, "But let us not anticipate—-" J say, "Let
me anticipate ; let me imagine what Ireland is going to be like,
according to my idea." My preconceived notions of Ireland are
founded chiefly upon the admirable writings of the late Mr. Charles
Lever, illustrated by "Phiz," with occasional assistance from the
Halls, the 0'Haras, William Carleton, and the Irish plays of
Messrs. Falconer and Boucicault.

On landing I expect to be hailed by ragged car-boys in long coats
with capes to them, with battered hats on their heads, chiefly re-
markable for the scarcity of brim, the absence of crown, and for
the presence of a " dhudeen " (perhaps this is not the way to spell it,
but I mean a short black pipe) stuck in, anyhow, when not in use.
I expect to be styled "Captain!" by every one of these raga-
muffins {Note— for 'when I've time to think of it—whence the word,
" Rag-a-muffm" ? A muffin done to rags doesn't suggest the
idea. Keep this for Typical Developments, Letter " R,"—" unde