Punch (75.1878)

July 27, 1878.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

25

GYMNASTICS.

Professor. "And after each Performance, Gentlemen, yotj should al-
ways put your Right 'And to your Lips, and draw it away smilin,' as
if you was pulling a 'Air out of yer Mouth ! Like this 'ere ! "

[Shows them how.

TRAVELLERS' DREAMS.

If you dream of

Antwerp—prepare for the terrors of a long sea pas-
sage, plus a surfeit of Reubens and a plethora of church
chimes.

Boulogne—prepare for a draught of Le Port which
neither cheers nor inebriates.

Cologne—prepare for an "Oh!" caused by the local
perfume.

Dieppe—prepare for three costumes a day, and, as a
preliminary, a long dressmaker's bill.

JEms—prepare for royal visitors and regal prices.

Florence—prepare for several weeks' hard, labour at
the Gall(er)ies.

Genoa—prepare for dirt and disappointment.

Havre—prepare for the wrath of Neptune and the
extravagance of Trouville.

Interlachen—prepare for the observations of H-less
'Arry upon the 'igh 'ills of the neighbourhood.

Jersey —prepare for hidden rocks, sea-mists, low
prices, and genteel society.

Kissinqen—prepare for the attacks of that amiable
animal the hound of Bismarck.

London—prepare for an empty city of three millions of
inhabitants.

Madrid—prepare for a startling adventure with Spanish
brigands.

Naples—prepare to see the Bay, and then to die of
mosquitoes.

Paris—prepare for a short cut to Basinghall Street,
via Dover, Calais, and the Grand Hotel.

Pome—prepare for antiquities and ague.

Scarborough—prepare for Cockney pomp and York-
shire shoddy.

Turin—prepare for " Dear Italy " at its dearest.

Venice—prepare for gondolas, bad smells, old palaces,
frowzy churches, Tintoret, Titian, beggars and ices at
Florian's, memories of Buskin, and musquitos.

Waterloo—prepare for relics of the battle fresh from
Birmingham.

Zurich—prepare to come home again with a well-scored
Alpenstock, a load [of Swiss toys, and memories of blue
lakes, black pines, snow-tipped mountains, and long
hotel-bills!

ABOUT CYPRUS.

During the past week Mr. Punch has received so many inquiries
about Cyprus, that he has been forced to tell off one of the most
learned of his young men to return the necessary answers. The
following are a few of the replies that have been sent from 85, Fleet
Street, within the last four-and-twenty hours :—

" A Poor Invalid."—By aU means go. The very place for you.
You say you require rest and a little mild amusement. The island
is very quiet, and you wiU find endless entertainment in chasing the
scorpions and tarantulas, and in dodging the fever.

"A Young Historian."—You wish to know something about
the antecedents of Cyprus. Always ready to oblige a friend I am
sure, although I should have been better able to comply with your
request had I had the benefit of a reference library—an advantage
denied to me at this moment. However, the leading landmarks in
the history of Cyprus will be found, I believe, as follows. It was
discovered by Venus at a very early period. Then, somehow or
other, it passed from the rule of Yenus to that of Yenice. Othello
was the governor for a short while. It was in the citadel of Cyprus
that he smothered Desdemona. His successor in the Government
was Cassio. We hear nothing more of Cyprus until it was given
over to the English by the Turks in June, 1878.

" An Inquirer."—You want to know what are the chief products
of Cyprus. I blush for your ignorance. Here they are, quoted from
memory: Latakia, gum, copper, pitch-pipes, almonds, salt, figs,
lemonade, and black-current lozenges.

" A Sweet Young Thing."—You describe yourself as a spinster
with engaging manners. You have been to aU the English and
foreign watering-places for the last fifteen years without finding a
husband, do we think you are likely to meet with one in Cyprus ?
Certainly, if you go there' before the place is overstocked by the
unmarried ladies of the Anglo-Indian market.

"A Traveller who Hates Roughing It."—You want to know
how to get to Cyprus. It is simple enough. Go, say, to Clapham
Junction, and ask for a ticket for the nearest station. Well, they
will put you in a train which (after a few changes) will land you
somewhere near Constantinople. When you arrive there you had

better make fresh inquiries. You can't do wrong to take a corru-
gated iron house, and a good supply of Liebig's Essence and Waters'
Quinine Wine.

" A Pushing Young Man."—You say that you have an opening
in fire-stoves and fur rugs. You want to know whether fire-stoves
and fur rugs are likely to be required in Cyprus ? It depends a good
deal upon the climate. However, you might run over to the island
and ascertain.

" One Who Doats upon the Military."—You say that you and
your three charming sisters follow the Red-coats everywhere—to
Canterbury, Folkestone, Aldershot, and Portsmouth. Will the gar-
rison be pleased to see you at Cyprus ? Of course they will, more
especially if you bring with you your slightly commercial father,
and your very match-making mamma.

"Anxious Beginner," and a Thousand other Correspondents.—
Your questions are so important that I dare not take the responsibi-
lity of answering them. You had better toss up half-a-crown and
abide by the result; or better, wait for Sir Garnet's report.

Feathering the Arrow.

We read in the Daily Telegraph the other day that, after the
signing of the Treaty of Berlin, the German official mind was much
perturbed on hearing that the Plenipotentiaries at the Paris Congress
in 1856 used eagle quills, which were afterwards preserved as heir-
looms in their respective families. Why the German official mind
was perturbed is not stated; but presumably because the quills used
for signing the Treaty of Berlin were drawn from that less imperial
bird—the goose.

How coidd the Imperial Chancellor have overlooked the obvious
conclusion that the bird to furnish the quills for this interesting
occasion was the Turkey—which should by this time be used to the
sacrifice of its plumage. As Lord Beaconsfleld would say, this
would have required no "partition," merely a " distribution of the
bird's wing-feathers.

The Premier from a Turkish Point of Yiew. — A grand
visionary Grand Yizier.

vol. lxxv.

D