Punch (95.1888)

September 22, 1888.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

133

B. &, S.

(Extracts from a Diary of Travel)
B. &"S. are" nothing to drink. So Wilfred Lawson needn't
to order " any. B. is a rising town on
one side of the Estnary of the Rubble.
S. is a rising town on the other.
B. looks down on S. S. loftily ignores
B. Remember in days of earlier travel
spending some time in town of St. Louis,
TJ. S. A. "Whiled away breakfast hour by
reading what Kansas papers said of St.
Louis, and what St. Louis journals said
of Kansas. Month, September; flies
abundant. Coloured gentleman told off
with big fan to every couple in coffee
room ; fan always going in one hand,
brushing off flies, whilst dishes'served and
removed with other. Newspaper controversy
of the day turned on subject of flies. Kansas
papers denounced St. Louis as fly-blown.
When coloured gentleman temporarily removed
flies from surface of St. Louis local journal, I
read dignified deprecation of distinction thrust
upon the city. We do not," wrote the editor,
"deny an occasional fly in St. Louis; but there
are times when the outlines of objects in the
domestic economy of Kansas are literally oblite-
rated by the pest. Recently, a citizen of St.
Louis entered the principal hotel in Kansas, in-
tending to take his breakfast. ' What have you
got a black cloth on the table for?' he asked the
boy. ' That's not a cloth,' said the boy, whisk-
ing his fan. ' That's flies.' And so it was."

B. & S. do not indulge in open recrimination « j riso to Order "
like St. L. and K. But they think the more.

The favours of the Estuary unequally divided. B. gets all the
water; S. all the sand. B. has high tide twice a clay; S. once
a fortnight. S. says there's nothing like sand.
"Water for me," says B. S. rigs up boats
on wheels, and careers madly over the dimes.
B. puts to sea in pleasure-boats, stepping
right off its own sea-wall, and smiles with
aggravating insolence at S.'s argosies. B. has a
park facing the sea, enclosed within jealously
guarded gates, accessible only to lordly residents.
The sun arranges matters so that it sets full in
sight of the park. Only Ireland between B. and
the boundless Atlantic.

"Ireland in the way, as usual," said Claud
Hamilton", who, when Member for Liverpool,
sometimes -visited B.
But when it comes to the seasons, S. has the
pull over B. B.
has a summer sea-
son. So has S., and
/i a winter season into
the bargain. At
B., people lodge.
In S. they dwell.
"Good Americans
when they die, go
to Paris." In the
manufacturing dis-
Late of Liverpool. triets of Lancashire,
good general dealers when they retire, go to S.
It is the very paradise of the bourgeoisie.
Always looks as if it had just had its hands
and face washed.

Whitley, another cheap tripper from
Liverpool, with hands behind his back and smile
on his face, says it reminds him of

"• • • • tlie rose just-washed in a shower
\\ Inch Maky to Anna conveyed."

(Cowper was the poet of Whitley's childhood;
clings to him still.)

B. is an agglomeration of lodging-houses; S. is
a congeries of residences. In new part of the town,
every house is detached ; everyone has a peaked
roof ; everyone is built of red brick ; everyone has
a grass plot m front; everyone has a little garden
behind; everyone is prim and clean, and passing
rich on the sayings of a well spent life. Also of Liverpool

S., though it rather looks down on the summer, since B. shares its
attractions and its advantages, is not above entertaining the day-

yoi. xcv,

trippers. They come in thousands, every day from July through
September. Oldham, Manchester, Wigan, Preston, Liverpool, Bolton,
Blackburn, Stockport, pour in their tens of thousands from the
teeming mills. Those that land at B., presently take steamer, cross
over to S., and return, grievously ill all the way. Those that land
at S., journey in the same way to B. Four hours they spend at
either side, on sand or sea-wall. A pleasant sight to see. All
dressed in their best. Mother and father, sons and daughters, and
babies innumerable. As different from Margate as East from West.
Quaint in speech, odd in man-
ner, amazing in dress; all
honest pale-faced working men
and women, sniffing the fresh
air and gazing on the unaccus-
tomed scene with infinite gusto.
S. knows 'Arry not, nor is B.
acquainted with 'Arriet.

' Like to see this, dear Toby,"
said W. P. Lawrence, bowing
gracefully to cheap trippers,
who looked as if they might
possibly be electors of the Abercromby
division of Liverpool. '' Quite a change
from Salisbury Plain, which I am more
accustomed to frequent."

At B. came unexpectedly upon Addi-
son, Q,.C, of Ashton-under-Lyne. Adds
the last touch of genial attractiveness to
the place. Pretty to see him standing on
marge of Ocean, regarding its going and
coming with friendly glance. Just the
same here as in House of Commons.
Addison, Q.C., walks up floor, beaming
impartially on crowded benches right and
left. House smiles back on him, and,
before he reaches appointed place, and ,
his portly person sinks into seat, murmur Constituent, I presume!
of welcoming cheer goes round. So it is at B. Addison, Q.C.,
standing with hands in trousers' pockets, and feet far apart, strides
and smiles on the Irish Channel. Irish Channel returns friendly
gleam of recognition ; Addison breaks into ripple of happy laughter;
and the sea roars back a delighted guffaw.

Why this should be I don't know, any more than why Addison, Q.C.,
and House of Commons should always be smiling at each other.
But so it is. B. and S. still divided by Estuary of Rubble, are mo-
mentarily united in happy effervescence while Addison, Q..C.
standing on the prim sea-wall, looks across the Rubble at the yellow
sands.

TYPICAL TOPICAL STORIES EOR THE DEAD SEASON.
remarkable incident in pall mall.

The United Service Club (called by the Members of the Junior
United Service Club " The Senior ") was closed for repairs. Taking
pity upon their miserable position—cold and coffee-room-less—the
Committee of the Athenamm had asked the Members of the Senior
to become for the nonce honorary guests of the more literary Club.
The invitation had been accepted" with avidity, and the staid-looking
mansion standing at the south-west corner of Waterloo Place was
crowded with elderly warriors belonging both to the Army and the
Navy. As everyone knows, the Athena;um prides itself upon its
Bishops. The Primate is, so to speak, the specialite de la maison.
But it was September, and few, very few, of the ordinary Members
of the Athenseum were in Town. On the other hand, the invited
warriors were present in abundance.

It was in the Coffee Room. An exciting scene was being acted.
A waiter had produced an imperfectly cooked chop. The Generals
and the Admirals were very wrath, and the use of the capital " D "

had become most fashionable. It was then that the Bishop of_

entered the Coffee Room, and, listlessly seating himself at a table
ordered a chop. He was composing a sermon, and was unconscious
of the noise around him. At length the should-be succulent viand
was placed before him. He thrust his fork into it, and found that
it was imperfectly cooked. He was about to utter an exclamation
of anger when the steward interposed.

'lNay^m? ^°rd^ S^rb y°ul\ Profane tongue. See those inno-
cents. Not before the (Naval and Military) boys' "

And suppressing an oath the good Bishop gave his blessing to the
warlike throng, who sank on their knees to receive it. And it was
at this point E awakened from my slumbers, and found that what
I had witnessed was only a dream!

Appropriate Cantata for the next " Festival of the Three
iuntES."—The Jackdaw of Reams.