DOI Heft:
September 30, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0163
156
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARI V ART
[September 30, 1882.
“ROBERT” AT THE HAGUE.
Suckemstances over wich I had no controle, and urgent private
affairs, aproaching snmthink like stumptupedness, has combined to
perwent me having my ushal annual fortnightly “ sniff of the briny,”
as Shakspear calls it, this here year, so I gladly awailed myself of
your suggestion that I should run across to Holland as you said, jest
to see how the sober Dutchmen would behaive in presence of the
Lord Mare of London and all his lordly surrowndings.
Your note found me jest a-glancing over our bill of Fair for the
day, but I didn’t stop to finish it, but was off like a shot.
i draws a wale over what you playfoolly calld the “ run across ”
on that awful Toosday. It was the fust time as I ever quitted Terror
Firmer, excep in a Bathing Machine, and I fondly hoped as it would
be the last after I was once back.
There seems a sumthink in the natur, or the igh living, or the
deportment of a fust class Waiter or Gentleman in Livery, that
incapassitates ’em from standing a rolling or a pitch and tossing Sea.
I heer from a private sauce as the Lord Mare’s Sweet sufferd awful.
Those in a higher spear are safe from the scoffing jester.
I was on the Key when they arrived at Blushing, I think they
calls it, tho’ that certinly was not a propper descripshun of some of
the party ; and, for the fust time in all my long egsperence, I herd
the Kite Honerahel the Lord Mare of London received as is his dew,
that is, with the Nashunal Anthem ! Ah ! that was sumthink like,
that was.
They tells me as the Dutch ain’t got much reverens for nothink,
but I should think they are about the only peeple as ever receaved
the Lord Mare with Royal Honners, includin most butiful bookays
for the Ladies.
At the end of the railway journey they was receaved by the Lord
Great Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, and the Dutch Lord
Mare, who they calls their Bergo Master, tho’ I’m sure I don’t know
why. Snmbody told me, I suppose as a joke, that the Master of the
Horse is named Count Shimmelpennywick.
In the afternoon they all went in state to see the King and Queen
and give ’em the bewtiful gold box as we all so much hadmired at
Mr. Benson’s,_ the Copperashun Jeweler, on Ludgit Hill, and a
werry pretty site they made, and wasn’t there jest crowds of peeple
to stare at ’em.
As ushal, the Gentlemen of the Lord Mare’s household created the
gratest sensashun, and they suttenly did look splendid. What with
their tall graceful figgers, and their lofty demeaner, and their lovely
uniforms, and their portly carves, they was the hobserved of all
hobserwers.
It struck me as the Mace Bearer looked jest a little pail, whether
from over anxiety, or from a bad nite’s rest, this morning, of course,
I can’t say, but the City Field Marshall, who was as carm as if he
was in his own native Capital and understood Dutch, looked
bloomin.
Everybody says as they had a most grashus recepshun, so I should
think indeed, on such a errand and with such a present, and that the
Lord Mare made a speech such as only Lord Mares seems able to
make, and then handed His Majesty the butiful Gold Casket wich
the King and the Queen both wery much admired. Then His
Majesty, not to be outdone in pliteness by the Lord Mare, acshally
promised to come over next yeer, and dine with the Copperashun, let
who might be Mare, and thank ’em personally for their butiful gift.
That’s what I calls_ somethink like a King. I wunder what our
enwious ennemys will say to that P
Afterwards the Civick party, as sumbody called ’em, dined with
their Majestys, and much I should ha’ liked to have had the distin-
gwished honor of waitin upon some of ’em, but, in course, it was
unpossibel. I hear, tho’, from certain privet sorces, that it was
quite fust rate, and seemed quite satisfacktory even to both the Lord
Mare and his two Sherryiffs, which is about the highest praise as
can be given to any dinner, royal or not royal.
I spent the nex day in seeing the little Capital, which strange to
say they has named “ the Ague,” only they spells it with a H.
I’m not quite so serprised at the Fame as I ought to be, for sut-
tenly a much damper place I should think don’t exist nowheres,
what with the Canals, and their sloppy habits of always being a
washing of their wide clean streets. I was a good deal surprized at
the hutter habsense of Oranges, as the Prince himself lives there,
but I spose it’s the old story, the nearer the Prince the further from
the Oranges.
I had a peep into their sillyb-rated Pictur Gallery, but lor bless
us all, I was most artily glad as Mrs. Robert wasn’t with me, for
sum of the picturs is that rude as I don’t feel at all sure as they
didn’t a most make me blush.
I spose these little matters, like most little matters, is nothink
when you ’re used to ’em, for I seed several werry nice looking young
Ladies acshally copying some of the most owdacious of the whole
lot, and aperiently thinking nothink of it.
Somebody accounted for it by saying that of course the Flemings
was werry Flematic, but I’m sure I don’t know what he meant.
I was a good deal disappinted with the Dutchmen, I means as
regards their bild. Why they’ve got some Deputys in Hie Coppera-
shun as ’ud give ’em a stun and still beat ’em into fits either for
weight or figger, of course I don’t mean figger heads.
In the evening I again braved the dangers of the stormy sea,
which I didn’t care much about, but also the other unmentionabel
matter, which I did, and so home to brekfast with what appytight I
may, which I need hardly say wasn’t much. Robert.
HOLIDAY HAUNTS.
By Jingle Junior on the Jaunt.
LITTLEHAMPTON.
Emphatically the Sea on the strict Q T—no bustle at railway-
station—train glides in noiselessly—passengers ooze away—porters
good-tempered and easy-going—like suffragan
Bishops in corduroys—bless boxes—read pasto-
rals on portmanteaux—no one in a hurry—loco-
motive coos softly in an undertone—fly-drivers
suggest possibility of your requiring their
services in a whisper! Place full—no lodgings
to be had—visitors manage to efface themselves
—no one about—all having early dinners—or
gone to bed—or pretending to be somewhere else
—a one-sided game of hide and seek—everybody
hiding, nobody seeking! Seems always afternoon
—dreamy gleamy sunshine—a dense quietude
that you might cut in slices—no braying brass-
bands —no raucous niggers—no seaside harpies—
Honfleur packet only excitement—no one goes to
see it start—visitors don’t like to be excited!
Chief amusements, Common, Sands, and Pony-
chaises—first, good to roll on—second, good to
stroll on—first two, gratuitous and breezy—third, inexpensive and
easy—might be driven out of your mind for three-and-six—notwith-
standing this, everybody presumably sane. Capital place for children
—cricket for boys—shrimping for girls—bare legs—picturesque dress
—not much caught—salt water good for ankles—excellent bathing—
rows of bathing-tents—admirable notion ! Interesting excursions—
Arundel Castle—Bramber—Bognor—Chichester—Petworth House !
Good things to eat—Arundel mullet—Amberley trout—Tarring figs !
Delightful air—omnipotent ozone—uninterrupted quiet—just the
place to recover your balance, either mental or monetary—I wish to
recover both—that’s the reason I’m here—send cheque at once to
complete cure.*
* We have sent him the price of a third-class fare to town, with orders to;
return instantly : possibly this is hardly the sort of check that our friend
“ J. J.” expected.—Ed.
’Tis the last Nose
of Summer left
blooming alone! ”
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARI V ART
[September 30, 1882.
“ROBERT” AT THE HAGUE.
Suckemstances over wich I had no controle, and urgent private
affairs, aproaching snmthink like stumptupedness, has combined to
perwent me having my ushal annual fortnightly “ sniff of the briny,”
as Shakspear calls it, this here year, so I gladly awailed myself of
your suggestion that I should run across to Holland as you said, jest
to see how the sober Dutchmen would behaive in presence of the
Lord Mare of London and all his lordly surrowndings.
Your note found me jest a-glancing over our bill of Fair for the
day, but I didn’t stop to finish it, but was off like a shot.
i draws a wale over what you playfoolly calld the “ run across ”
on that awful Toosday. It was the fust time as I ever quitted Terror
Firmer, excep in a Bathing Machine, and I fondly hoped as it would
be the last after I was once back.
There seems a sumthink in the natur, or the igh living, or the
deportment of a fust class Waiter or Gentleman in Livery, that
incapassitates ’em from standing a rolling or a pitch and tossing Sea.
I heer from a private sauce as the Lord Mare’s Sweet sufferd awful.
Those in a higher spear are safe from the scoffing jester.
I was on the Key when they arrived at Blushing, I think they
calls it, tho’ that certinly was not a propper descripshun of some of
the party ; and, for the fust time in all my long egsperence, I herd
the Kite Honerahel the Lord Mare of London received as is his dew,
that is, with the Nashunal Anthem ! Ah ! that was sumthink like,
that was.
They tells me as the Dutch ain’t got much reverens for nothink,
but I should think they are about the only peeple as ever receaved
the Lord Mare with Royal Honners, includin most butiful bookays
for the Ladies.
At the end of the railway journey they was receaved by the Lord
Great Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, and the Dutch Lord
Mare, who they calls their Bergo Master, tho’ I’m sure I don’t know
why. Snmbody told me, I suppose as a joke, that the Master of the
Horse is named Count Shimmelpennywick.
In the afternoon they all went in state to see the King and Queen
and give ’em the bewtiful gold box as we all so much hadmired at
Mr. Benson’s,_ the Copperashun Jeweler, on Ludgit Hill, and a
werry pretty site they made, and wasn’t there jest crowds of peeple
to stare at ’em.
As ushal, the Gentlemen of the Lord Mare’s household created the
gratest sensashun, and they suttenly did look splendid. What with
their tall graceful figgers, and their lofty demeaner, and their lovely
uniforms, and their portly carves, they was the hobserved of all
hobserwers.
It struck me as the Mace Bearer looked jest a little pail, whether
from over anxiety, or from a bad nite’s rest, this morning, of course,
I can’t say, but the City Field Marshall, who was as carm as if he
was in his own native Capital and understood Dutch, looked
bloomin.
Everybody says as they had a most grashus recepshun, so I should
think indeed, on such a errand and with such a present, and that the
Lord Mare made a speech such as only Lord Mares seems able to
make, and then handed His Majesty the butiful Gold Casket wich
the King and the Queen both wery much admired. Then His
Majesty, not to be outdone in pliteness by the Lord Mare, acshally
promised to come over next yeer, and dine with the Copperashun, let
who might be Mare, and thank ’em personally for their butiful gift.
That’s what I calls_ somethink like a King. I wunder what our
enwious ennemys will say to that P
Afterwards the Civick party, as sumbody called ’em, dined with
their Majestys, and much I should ha’ liked to have had the distin-
gwished honor of waitin upon some of ’em, but, in course, it was
unpossibel. I hear, tho’, from certain privet sorces, that it was
quite fust rate, and seemed quite satisfacktory even to both the Lord
Mare and his two Sherryiffs, which is about the highest praise as
can be given to any dinner, royal or not royal.
I spent the nex day in seeing the little Capital, which strange to
say they has named “ the Ague,” only they spells it with a H.
I’m not quite so serprised at the Fame as I ought to be, for sut-
tenly a much damper place I should think don’t exist nowheres,
what with the Canals, and their sloppy habits of always being a
washing of their wide clean streets. I was a good deal surprized at
the hutter habsense of Oranges, as the Prince himself lives there,
but I spose it’s the old story, the nearer the Prince the further from
the Oranges.
I had a peep into their sillyb-rated Pictur Gallery, but lor bless
us all, I was most artily glad as Mrs. Robert wasn’t with me, for
sum of the picturs is that rude as I don’t feel at all sure as they
didn’t a most make me blush.
I spose these little matters, like most little matters, is nothink
when you ’re used to ’em, for I seed several werry nice looking young
Ladies acshally copying some of the most owdacious of the whole
lot, and aperiently thinking nothink of it.
Somebody accounted for it by saying that of course the Flemings
was werry Flematic, but I’m sure I don’t know what he meant.
I was a good deal disappinted with the Dutchmen, I means as
regards their bild. Why they’ve got some Deputys in Hie Coppera-
shun as ’ud give ’em a stun and still beat ’em into fits either for
weight or figger, of course I don’t mean figger heads.
In the evening I again braved the dangers of the stormy sea,
which I didn’t care much about, but also the other unmentionabel
matter, which I did, and so home to brekfast with what appytight I
may, which I need hardly say wasn’t much. Robert.
HOLIDAY HAUNTS.
By Jingle Junior on the Jaunt.
LITTLEHAMPTON.
Emphatically the Sea on the strict Q T—no bustle at railway-
station—train glides in noiselessly—passengers ooze away—porters
good-tempered and easy-going—like suffragan
Bishops in corduroys—bless boxes—read pasto-
rals on portmanteaux—no one in a hurry—loco-
motive coos softly in an undertone—fly-drivers
suggest possibility of your requiring their
services in a whisper! Place full—no lodgings
to be had—visitors manage to efface themselves
—no one about—all having early dinners—or
gone to bed—or pretending to be somewhere else
—a one-sided game of hide and seek—everybody
hiding, nobody seeking! Seems always afternoon
—dreamy gleamy sunshine—a dense quietude
that you might cut in slices—no braying brass-
bands —no raucous niggers—no seaside harpies—
Honfleur packet only excitement—no one goes to
see it start—visitors don’t like to be excited!
Chief amusements, Common, Sands, and Pony-
chaises—first, good to roll on—second, good to
stroll on—first two, gratuitous and breezy—third, inexpensive and
easy—might be driven out of your mind for three-and-six—notwith-
standing this, everybody presumably sane. Capital place for children
—cricket for boys—shrimping for girls—bare legs—picturesque dress
—not much caught—salt water good for ankles—excellent bathing—
rows of bathing-tents—admirable notion ! Interesting excursions—
Arundel Castle—Bramber—Bognor—Chichester—Petworth House !
Good things to eat—Arundel mullet—Amberley trout—Tarring figs !
Delightful air—omnipotent ozone—uninterrupted quiet—just the
place to recover your balance, either mental or monetary—I wish to
recover both—that’s the reason I’m here—send cheque at once to
complete cure.*
* We have sent him the price of a third-class fare to town, with orders to;
return instantly : possibly this is hardly the sort of check that our friend
“ J. J.” expected.—Ed.
’Tis the last Nose
of Summer left
blooming alone! ”