Punch (73.1877)

December 8, 1877.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAKIVARL

261

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OUR WINTER EXHIBITION.

Sketch No. I.—Sblmpgate-on-Sea in November.

{Communicated by Our Own Quiet Observer.)

Town of Srimpgate
is a fair - sized,
rather primitive,
but gradually im-
proving (improve-
ment being in some
instances a ques-
tionable benefit)
seaport. Its name
has evidently been
Shrimpgate, or the
Gate of the Shrimps,
just as we have
Eaagate and Lambs-
gate, now spelt
Lamsgate, the only
difference being
that in these two
latter instances the
gate leads to the
sea for the accom-
modation, and per-
haps exportation,
of the Baas and the
Lambs (much the
same), instead of
leading from the

sea for the advantage of the Shrimpers and the disadvantage of the Shrimps.
Except at two or three noted resorts, in and out of England, where they
are absolutely nothing if not shrimpy, there is no place where shrimps can
be obtained in such perfection as at Srimpgate-on-Sea. The "h" has been
dropped out of the name, but, as it is only an " h," this is nothing very re-
markable. Your Quiet Observer is so afraid lest the march of speculation
should destroy the peculiarities of Srimpgate, that he sketches it while he can.

Srimpgate has two piers, East and West, as distinct from one another,
but as firmly united, as Siamese Twins. Of these the East is the fashionable
resort for promenading. There is an outer harbour and an inner harbour, and,
at this particular season of the year, there is plenty of what is known about
the coast as " Shipping," which, to alandsman's eye, when collected in a couple
of " basins" (where a little soap might be useful, by the way), looks so uncom-
monly like a hopelessly entangled cat's-cradle of ropes, lines, and rigging
generally, that the future extrication of the vessels, specially from the inner
harbour, must present such a problem to the authorities in charge, as might
drive to despair even the clearest-headed of the Elder Brethren of the Trinity
House, and force the First Lord of the Admiralty, in a fit of desperation,
to eject them all with torpedoes, compensate the owners with specie equivalent
to their temporary loss in coals, ice, and herrings for Billingsgate, and then
begin all over again on a new principle.

Your Own Ouiet Observer has ventured to bring in, as it were by the heels,
or, to put it more respectfully when speaking of high officials in naval
uniform, by the cocked hat and epaulettes, the names of those mysterious
personages The Elder Brethren. Your Observer is not, as a rule, supersti-
tious, but he has his own ideas about these venerable and, to him (as he has
never seen them), invisible beings. Were Your Observer a second Bip Van
Winkle (which he might easily be at Srimpgate—you will notice the playful
use of the word "Winkle," and pass on), and, were he to dropoff to sleep, in
the moonlight, among the ruins of some Martello towers, the wrecks of a few
Admiralty piers, and the broken remains of a rotten breakwater looking like "the
skeleton ribs of some antediluvian monster, he would probably awake to find
himself witnessing a spectral game of throwing for eocoanuts on the sand,
played by grey-bearded, quaintly-attired phantoms, whose solemn leader would
inform Your Observer that he was now, for the first time in his life, in the awful
company of The Elder Brethren. As the spectre ceased speaking the dull
boom of the sea would fall on the attentive ear of Your More-Ouiet-than-
ever Observer, and strange unearthly laughter would seem to echo along the cliffs,
and lose itself round a distant point, as one Elder Brother after another knocked
the old-fashioned Dutch clay pipe out of the mouth of the grim Aunt Sally.
Your Observer, recovering his courage, would turn to where a ghostly pur-
JJ*yor of strange drinks, unknown to Your Observer, was filling the cups of
The Elder Brethren, receiving in exchange money of an extinct coinage, and,
seizing a goblet, would daringly exclaim, "Here's your health, and your
family s, and may they live long and prosper!"—when, scarcely would the
words have passed his lips, or, rather, scarcely would the liquor have passed
his hps, for he would not allow a drop to be wasted, than a wild, weird cry
woulcl arise, followed by the sharp rattle of thunder crashing in with the pro-
longed angry roar of the sea, and the whole scene would be enveloped in
total darkness! The next morning, a hundred years after, Your Ouiet Ob-
server, with a long white beard, a tattered umbrella of antique pattern, which
would snap m pieces on being put up, and a very bad hat, would wander into
Srimpgate, which he would find slightly altered of course, but not much, as

there is no great progress to be made in merely a century
at Srimpgate, and he would stand on the pier sur-
rounded by the younger portion of the sea-side visitors,
with whom the worthy old man would soon be doing a
pretty considerable business in small change and coppers,
in return for wonderful yarns about the great mysterious
Elder Brethren, with whom he had spent a night, playing
Aunt Sally, so long, long ago.

Excuse this digression. But Your Observer could not
help it: the subject has a strange charm for him; and,
even now, an old Salt has just pointed out to Your
Observer a trim-looking steamer in the offing, or, to be
accurate, about half-way towards the offing, which, he
says, is the Trinity Boat, and "aboard it are, likely
enough,"—but here he pauses, as though, having already
said too much, he were unwilling to trust a mere chance
acquaintance with the secret. Your Observer, who, if
he knows anything, knows human nature, specially at
the sea-side, presses what at a distance might be taken
for a small silver medal, upon the ancient mariner, who,
thereupon, plights his solemn word to drink Your Ob-
server's very good health, and then confides to him, but
in a tone scarcely above a whisper, that on board that
steamer there, yonder, out there you see, are, in all
likelihood, The Elder Brethren! And what does he
know about these Elder Brethren ? If he drank Your
Observer's health again, could he give any information
on the subject P He wipes his lips with the back of
his hand, and thinks that "when he were a boy, he
recollected being teached something about the Elder
Brethren at the Sunday School; but he ain't no
scholard," he adds modestly ; " and don't rightly call't
to mind, exceptin' always about Joseph, which he were
ill-treated by The Elder Brethren, and that's about the
first as he 'eard on 'em, and so his sarvice to you, Sir,
an' he '11 just step round to The Willin' Sailor,"
which he accordingly does.

Your Observer once for all (perhaps, for the theme
exercises a mesmeric influence over him) dismisses the
Band of Brothers, and resumes his sketch of Srimp-
gate.

The harbour, at this season of the year, is quite a Nau-
tical Babel. Here are Dutchmen, Single, Double, and
Flying, in fact every variety of Hollander, dark-eyed,
ear-ringed Italians, high cheek-boned Americans, sun-
browned French, whitey - browned Danish, swarthy
Spanish, fair-haired Norwegians—their conduct ashore
being, as a rule, as orderly and correct as could possibly
be expected of jovial sea-faring mariners from foreign
parts, whose morals are supposed by the landsman,who
lives at home at ease and is generally misinformed on
most subjects, specially marine, to come under the
heading which is borne as a special distinction by the
preserved Norwegian Salmon, namely, Lax.

But at this moment the clock strikes, and the waiting
fisher-maiden enters with the tray, on which, among
other simple fare, is a plateful of fresh-boiled, tender,
chubby, large-eyed shrimps, intended for the evening
meal of Your Ouiet Observer, who is down here for the
Shrimp Cure, and finds himself progressing favourably,
and as well as could be expected. He goes from labour
to refreshment, intending to continue the sketch on his
next piece of paper.

Suitable to a T.

The Bulgarian Manchester Merchants, happily rescued
from sentence of death—for doing nothing, as far as we
can find out—might fairly change the name of Geshopf
for that of Gtetopf.

£500 reward. stolen, &c.

What we suburbans are more interested in just now
than Bulgarian Atrocities are Burglarian Atrocities.
Colonel Henderson, please accept this intimation.

What tee Board oe Work.3 hopes to become {when
it passes its Bill for buying up the Companies' Shares).
—The Board of Water-Works. [Is it in that character
that it declines to interfere with old Father Thames's
diversions in the riverside parishes ?]