DOI issue:
November 1, 1884
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0215
208 PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI, [November 1, 1884.
VERY MUCH ABROAD.
No. X.
Still with Cold—No More Waters—Notes for Future Guide.
Mr room in our hotel is situated au seconde over a murmuring
stream and a howling dog. I don’t wonder at the stream mur-
muring; when the dog howls, it’s quite enough to make one
J murmur. But when the dog is silent, the stream, from some unex-
| plained cause, murmurs louder than ever, and, at first, the noise
[ of rushing water being continuous, it seems to me as if I were trying
to sleep with my head against the cistern of a London house, in some
| district where either the Turncock had gone mad, or the Water
j Company had become recklessly prodigal.
La Bourboule is a great place, as 1 have already said, for infan-
tine maladies. It is, therefore, a great place for children ; I may
say, distinctly, a very great place for children. I never met so
many children with noisy toys as at La Bourboule. They have cow-
horns, tin-trumpets, imitation pistols and cannons, which go off with
a startling ban», un-musical carts, drums, and so forth. But of ail
things, the little cow-horn is the worst. It is the curse of the
place, and the worst of it is you can never find out where the deuce
the little boy is who makes the noise. If you have a headache, this
invisible “ Little Boy Blue,” or “Little Boy Blow'' with the juvenile
cow-horn, will worry you until you feel inclined to out-Herod
Herod, and run a-muck for all the children in the place.
The dogs of La Bourboule are another nuisance ; they bark and
they howl as no other dogs do, and are evidently irritated by the
children and the trumpets. Sometimes at night the owners of the
howling dogs are aroused, and then the noise is redoubled. But, if
you are snugly tucked up in bed, it is some consolation to reflect
that the dog is punished for howling, and that the master, who is
beating it, is probably catching a severe cold. When the toy-cow-
horn is not in full blast, the real instrument of torture is being
blown by the conducteurs of the omnibuses touting for customers to
. Laqueuille, Mont-Dore, Tauves, and other neighbouring places.
This lasts for about an hour at a time, twice a day. A fourth
trouble is the bell-ringing at the various hotels, to announce the pre-
| paration for the different meals, and then the hour of the meal itself.
There are also bells to announce the cloture of the etablissement
twice a day. Bells are rung on every possible occasion. The rule at
La Bourboule appears to be, “ When you’ve nothing else to do, ring
a bell.”
Tne greatest nuisance of all, against which, as being a public
matter, affecting nervous invalids, I wonder the fourteen Doctors
forming the Medical Staff of La Bourboule don’t protest, is the firing
off of some infernal machine several times a day, for no other object
that I have been able to ascertain than that of startling the pigeons,
and making them fly madly about. It is quite enough to cause all
the invalids to fly, and never return. On a nervous individual (and
there must be many here), specially if partially confined to his room,
and for whom perfect tranquillity is absolutely necessary, this
explosion, which is a perpetual surprise, is quite enough to produce
most serious results. The only time I witnessed this performance,
the actual perpetrator was a dirty little boy, who came down from
the Casino with something under his arm, which, at a distance,
seemed to resemble an old-fashioned hat-box. To this he applied a
fusee, when it at once went off with a tremendous detonation that
sent the pigeons (which, one would have thought, might, have been
accustomed, to it by this time) whirring up and circling about in the
air, while several ladies started up from their seats, and the young
Dynamiter having accomplished his fiendish purpose, retired gig-
gling. Where was our one Gendarme ?
Before the term of my sentence has expired, I find myself
asking if a great many of the cures with which the springs of La
Bourboule are credited may not be classed among the Fables of La
Fontaine f
A Conversation-book for La Bourboule would be useful. I shall
here merely hint at it, reserving all my rights as the discoverer of
La Bourboule, comparatively little known to my suffering com-
patriots, for my forthcoming Guide a la Bourboule.
Morning Dialogue.—How is (comment se porte-t-il) your thumb
{pouce), Sir [Monsieur),—your big-toe [orteil), your little-toe [petit
doigt du pied), your nose [nez), your right-ear [oreille droite), your
left (gauche) ear, your knee (genou), this morning ?
Your nose [nez) is not so red [si rouge) this morning as usual
(icomme ordinaire)—your nose is much redder [beavcoup plus rouge).
My thumb pains me—Oh !—[mal au pouce—Ah /)—I have shooting-
pains in my head.
1 will not take any more of these beastly waters [eaux aJfreuses).
You must see the Doctor [il faut passez chez 31. le Medecin). The
Doctor be- [que le Medecin soit beni). I think I shall go away
[me sauver) to-morrow [demain). No—stay, and go through the
course [traitement). I am better. I like the place—I like the
waters. It is the tenth day I am here. I shall be so well when I
get back [quand je reviendrai chez moi). When I return I shall go
in for champagne, hooray ! [a la bonne heure), and smoking, and
coffee, and liqueurs.
With the Doctor.—I am better. I have a sore nose [nez doulour-
eux), a pimple (bouton) on my lower lip [levre inferieure). It is
nothing. What! [comment) give up [renoncer) the waters ? Why,
I’ve come thousands of miles to take them ! Oh, for one day only
[ne que). Yery good [tres bien), and put off [remettre) the spray
(pulverisation). inhalation, gargle (gargarisme) till the day after
to-morrow. Good! [tres bien). I will observe [obeir) all you tell
me. Eh ! No smoke, no liqueur, no coffee [pas de cafe) ! Ah, well,
then [eh bien alors), no fee [pas de recompense)!
To a Friend (a dejeuner').—hook.! [regardez)—that nose—that ear 1
— that cheek—how red—it is less red [moins rouge) than yesterday
[qu'hier). Your nose looks beautiful [beau) this morning ; how does
mine look ? Will you have some eggs ? I have had two eggs—a bad
egg and. a good egg. Is this chop (cotelette) cooked [cuite) with j
With. Wrapper. 95° in the Shade.
tallow candles [bougies de suif) or only with bad butter F I do not
know. I will have some of the good red wine [du bon vin rouge).
while you have the nasty water. I cannot get [trouver) any good
red wine. The wine of the country [vin du pays) must be made out
of old boots [vieilles bottes). Then [alors) the grapes [raisins) must
grow on boot-trees. I shall have the red nose [le nez rougi), while
you will have the beaxrtiful complexion [la peau claire). I will
smoke the great and good cigar, and drink the strong black coffee
[cafe noir), while you will have nothing to do [rien d faire). You
who have just arrived [venez d'arriver) are thin and vigorous ; but I,
who have been through [passe par) the course [traitement) am fat
[gros) and feeble [faible). He is happy (heureux) because he. is well.
1 am unhappy [malheureux) because I am unwell. You will have
the big pimple [bouton) on your tongue (langue), and I shall be quite
well and happy. _
Good title for a Play to come out in November—“ Dark Days."
The Play itself, by Mr. Conway, has been kept perfectly dark, and
was acted secretly, so as to distance the pirates, and secure copyright,
at the Prince’s one day last week. Mr. Hugh Conway will be known
as a Conway of the Darkest Hugh.
VERY MUCH ABROAD.
No. X.
Still with Cold—No More Waters—Notes for Future Guide.
Mr room in our hotel is situated au seconde over a murmuring
stream and a howling dog. I don’t wonder at the stream mur-
muring; when the dog howls, it’s quite enough to make one
J murmur. But when the dog is silent, the stream, from some unex-
| plained cause, murmurs louder than ever, and, at first, the noise
[ of rushing water being continuous, it seems to me as if I were trying
to sleep with my head against the cistern of a London house, in some
| district where either the Turncock had gone mad, or the Water
j Company had become recklessly prodigal.
La Bourboule is a great place, as 1 have already said, for infan-
tine maladies. It is, therefore, a great place for children ; I may
say, distinctly, a very great place for children. I never met so
many children with noisy toys as at La Bourboule. They have cow-
horns, tin-trumpets, imitation pistols and cannons, which go off with
a startling ban», un-musical carts, drums, and so forth. But of ail
things, the little cow-horn is the worst. It is the curse of the
place, and the worst of it is you can never find out where the deuce
the little boy is who makes the noise. If you have a headache, this
invisible “ Little Boy Blue,” or “Little Boy Blow'' with the juvenile
cow-horn, will worry you until you feel inclined to out-Herod
Herod, and run a-muck for all the children in the place.
The dogs of La Bourboule are another nuisance ; they bark and
they howl as no other dogs do, and are evidently irritated by the
children and the trumpets. Sometimes at night the owners of the
howling dogs are aroused, and then the noise is redoubled. But, if
you are snugly tucked up in bed, it is some consolation to reflect
that the dog is punished for howling, and that the master, who is
beating it, is probably catching a severe cold. When the toy-cow-
horn is not in full blast, the real instrument of torture is being
blown by the conducteurs of the omnibuses touting for customers to
. Laqueuille, Mont-Dore, Tauves, and other neighbouring places.
This lasts for about an hour at a time, twice a day. A fourth
trouble is the bell-ringing at the various hotels, to announce the pre-
| paration for the different meals, and then the hour of the meal itself.
There are also bells to announce the cloture of the etablissement
twice a day. Bells are rung on every possible occasion. The rule at
La Bourboule appears to be, “ When you’ve nothing else to do, ring
a bell.”
Tne greatest nuisance of all, against which, as being a public
matter, affecting nervous invalids, I wonder the fourteen Doctors
forming the Medical Staff of La Bourboule don’t protest, is the firing
off of some infernal machine several times a day, for no other object
that I have been able to ascertain than that of startling the pigeons,
and making them fly madly about. It is quite enough to cause all
the invalids to fly, and never return. On a nervous individual (and
there must be many here), specially if partially confined to his room,
and for whom perfect tranquillity is absolutely necessary, this
explosion, which is a perpetual surprise, is quite enough to produce
most serious results. The only time I witnessed this performance,
the actual perpetrator was a dirty little boy, who came down from
the Casino with something under his arm, which, at a distance,
seemed to resemble an old-fashioned hat-box. To this he applied a
fusee, when it at once went off with a tremendous detonation that
sent the pigeons (which, one would have thought, might, have been
accustomed, to it by this time) whirring up and circling about in the
air, while several ladies started up from their seats, and the young
Dynamiter having accomplished his fiendish purpose, retired gig-
gling. Where was our one Gendarme ?
Before the term of my sentence has expired, I find myself
asking if a great many of the cures with which the springs of La
Bourboule are credited may not be classed among the Fables of La
Fontaine f
A Conversation-book for La Bourboule would be useful. I shall
here merely hint at it, reserving all my rights as the discoverer of
La Bourboule, comparatively little known to my suffering com-
patriots, for my forthcoming Guide a la Bourboule.
Morning Dialogue.—How is (comment se porte-t-il) your thumb
{pouce), Sir [Monsieur),—your big-toe [orteil), your little-toe [petit
doigt du pied), your nose [nez), your right-ear [oreille droite), your
left (gauche) ear, your knee (genou), this morning ?
Your nose [nez) is not so red [si rouge) this morning as usual
(icomme ordinaire)—your nose is much redder [beavcoup plus rouge).
My thumb pains me—Oh !—[mal au pouce—Ah /)—I have shooting-
pains in my head.
1 will not take any more of these beastly waters [eaux aJfreuses).
You must see the Doctor [il faut passez chez 31. le Medecin). The
Doctor be- [que le Medecin soit beni). I think I shall go away
[me sauver) to-morrow [demain). No—stay, and go through the
course [traitement). I am better. I like the place—I like the
waters. It is the tenth day I am here. I shall be so well when I
get back [quand je reviendrai chez moi). When I return I shall go
in for champagne, hooray ! [a la bonne heure), and smoking, and
coffee, and liqueurs.
With the Doctor.—I am better. I have a sore nose [nez doulour-
eux), a pimple (bouton) on my lower lip [levre inferieure). It is
nothing. What! [comment) give up [renoncer) the waters ? Why,
I’ve come thousands of miles to take them ! Oh, for one day only
[ne que). Yery good [tres bien), and put off [remettre) the spray
(pulverisation). inhalation, gargle (gargarisme) till the day after
to-morrow. Good! [tres bien). I will observe [obeir) all you tell
me. Eh ! No smoke, no liqueur, no coffee [pas de cafe) ! Ah, well,
then [eh bien alors), no fee [pas de recompense)!
To a Friend (a dejeuner').—hook.! [regardez)—that nose—that ear 1
— that cheek—how red—it is less red [moins rouge) than yesterday
[qu'hier). Your nose looks beautiful [beau) this morning ; how does
mine look ? Will you have some eggs ? I have had two eggs—a bad
egg and. a good egg. Is this chop (cotelette) cooked [cuite) with j
With. Wrapper. 95° in the Shade.
tallow candles [bougies de suif) or only with bad butter F I do not
know. I will have some of the good red wine [du bon vin rouge).
while you have the nasty water. I cannot get [trouver) any good
red wine. The wine of the country [vin du pays) must be made out
of old boots [vieilles bottes). Then [alors) the grapes [raisins) must
grow on boot-trees. I shall have the red nose [le nez rougi), while
you will have the beaxrtiful complexion [la peau claire). I will
smoke the great and good cigar, and drink the strong black coffee
[cafe noir), while you will have nothing to do [rien d faire). You
who have just arrived [venez d'arriver) are thin and vigorous ; but I,
who have been through [passe par) the course [traitement) am fat
[gros) and feeble [faible). He is happy (heureux) because he. is well.
1 am unhappy [malheureux) because I am unwell. You will have
the big pimple [bouton) on your tongue (langue), and I shall be quite
well and happy. _
Good title for a Play to come out in November—“ Dark Days."
The Play itself, by Mr. Conway, has been kept perfectly dark, and
was acted secretly, so as to distance the pirates, and secure copyright,
at the Prince’s one day last week. Mr. Hugh Conway will be known
as a Conway of the Darkest Hugh.