Punch (101.1891)

August 22, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 85

THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.

No. III.

Scexe—On the Coach from BraineV AUeud to Waterloo. The vehicle
has a Belgian driver, hut the conductor is a true-born Briton.

3Iiss Trotter {to celchaed, icho has found himself unable to keep
away). Youjdon'tjseein to find that old;gentleman vurry good
company ?

Culch. The''fact is that I much prefer to receive my impressions
of/a scene like'this in solitude.

Miss T. I should have thought vou'd be too polite to tell me so :
Mr. Cyees K. Tbottee and his daughter are behind unth Podbeey. but j was movill£? on. anyway.
Ctocb™ who is not as yet sufficiently on speaking terms with \ ^She on% mfore Cclchaed cmi f0uow and explain, he
his friend to ask for an introduction, is on the box-seat in front. finds himself accosted by Mr. Teoiiee.

Mr. Trotter. How are you getting along, Maud ? Tour seat! 3Ir. T. I don't know as I'm as much struck by this Waterloo
pretty comfortable ? j field as I expected, Sir. As an Amurrcan, I find it doesn't come up

Miss Trotter. Well, I guess it would be about as luxurious if it j to some of our battlefields in the War. We don't blow about those
hadn't got a chunk of wood nailed down the middle—it's not going j battlefields, Sir, but for style and general picturesqueness, I ain't
to have anyone confusing it with a bed of roses just yet. (To Podb.) ! seen nothing this side to equal them. You ever been over ? You
Your friend mad about anything ? He don't seem to open his head want to come over and see our country—that's what you want to

more 'n he's obliged to. I presume he don't approve of your taking no

do. You mustn't mind me a-running on, but when I meet someone

with me and Father—he keeps away from us considerable, I notice, as I can converse with in my own language—well, I just about

Podb. (awkwardly). Oh—er—I wouldn't say that, but he's a queer ; talk myself dry.

kind of chap rather, takes prejudices into his head and all that. I [lie talks himself dry, until rejoined by the Guide with Podbeey

wouldn't trouble about him if I were you—not worth it, y' know. and Miss Tbottee.

Miss T. Thanks—but it isn't going to shorten my existence any. Guide (to Podbeey). Leesten, I dell you. My vader—eighteen,
[Cuech. overhears all this, with feelings that may be imagined, no in ze Airmi, laboreur man—he see NAPOLEON standt in a saircle ;

Belgian Driver (to his horses). Pullep ! Allez officers roundt'im. Boots, op to hier ; green cott;

vite ! Bom-bom-bom ! Alright! I^W/l^k. yite vaiseott > vite laigs-

Conductor (to Celchaed). 'E's very proud of ',. (tiflMm JPodbury. Your father's legs ?

'is English, 'e is. 'Ere, Jewes, ole feller, show 11111111? Guide. No, Sare ; my vader see Napoleox's

the gen'lm'n 'ow yer can do a swear. (Belgian /ffijjgHEffiP laigs ; leedle 'at, qvite plain ; no farther—nossing.

Driver utters a string of English imprecations i^'-^l^te'*-. Podbury But you just said you had a faither!

ivith the utmost fluency and good-nature.) 'Ark at ^tw-Zy^X Guide. I say, Napoleox'ad no faither—vat you

'im now ! Bust my frogs ! (Admiringly, and not iw^wmL^^tK c ^ ^—P^ume—in 'is 'aT! at ze bataille.

without a sense of the appropriateness of the ^$S^u7:X ^'i \ Podbury. Are you sure? I thought the his-

phrase.) But he's a caution, Sir, ain't he? I J*^^^^/%S, it m/Mmm tory books said he "stuck a feather in his hat,

taught him most o'what he knows ! Zp'? K'~ - ' ^^"Mit A''-0*^4' and called it Macaroni."

A French Passenger (to Conductor). Dis done, \y**b&LJ*^[ i'^^^^mwk Miss T. I presume you 're thinking of our

mon ami, est-ce qu'on peut voir d'ici lc champ di | k ■^'WWm^ National Amurrcan character, Yankee Doodle ?

batnilk- ? . ''■^^fWW\ Guide. My vader, 'e no see Napoleox viz a

Conductor (with proper pride). It ain't no use < > - ^'-l|lM%f< rankedoodle in'is'at; 'e vear nossing.

your torkin to me, Mossoo; I don't speak no j I ' J'i%4fyffli Podbury. Nothing ? What became of the green

French myself. (To Celchaed.) See thai field i K> M j0™SmMw coat and white waistcoat, then, eh ?

there, Sir ? | }v ' j /Tblp\Mw* Guide. Ah, you unnerstan' nossing at all!

Culchard [interested). On the right ? Yes, what I j :/ " -Jlw'^Mt Leesten, I dell you vonce more. My vader-

happened th ere ? I \t j Podbury. No, look here, my friend; you go

Cond. Fine lot o'rabbits inside o'there—big fat J in I a tell that gentleman all about it (indicating

'uns. (To another Passenger.) No, Sir, that ain't 1 jm 1 ' W^M lumft Celchaed) ; he's very interested in hearing what

Belly Lions as you see from 'ere: thai's Mon J -*i 11 w" M JmI | Napoleox wore or didn't wear.

Sin Jeean, and over there Oogymong, and Chal- ' ^ ( '^k/if^fmM [The Guide takes possession of Celchaed once

lyroy to the left. ^jjL "fjj^0^f more, who submits, under the impression that

Ox the Top of the Moexd. I ml^S Miss Tbottee is a fellow-sufferer.

i , •- Wffl /f^m Guide (concluding a vivid account of the tight

Celchaed, who has purchased a map in the U . , W^C^m at Houguymont). Bot ven zev com qvite nearer,

Water loo Museum as a means of approaching (j | LvS^®| zev vind ze rade line no ze Inglis soldiers—nossing

Miss Teotteb, is pounced upon by an elderly ^% bot a breek vail, viz ze moskets—' Prown Pesses,'

Belgian Guide in a blue blouse, from whom ^^^h^^ vou coal dem—shdeekin out of ze 'oles ! Ze 'oles

he finds it difficult to escape. - ^jSjgT' schdill dere. Dat vas Houguymont, in the or-

The Guide (fixing Celchaed with a pair of J@*P^ shairde. Now j'ou com viz me and see ze lion. Ze

rheumy eyes and a gnarled forefinger). You see "Leesten I dell vou vonee more." aEUi> tw0 piece > ze DoaL T011 piece; ze ball, von

vere is dat schmall voodt near de vite 'ouse ? not " piece. I sank you, Sare. 'Ope you com again soon

dere, along my shdeek—so. Dat is vare Peectox vas kill, Inglis
Officer, Peectox. Two days pefore he vas voundet in de ahum.
'E say to his sairvan', " You dell ennipoddies, I keel you! " He
vandt to pe in ze bataille: he vas in ze bataille - seven lance troo
'im, seven; Peectox, Inglis Officer. (Celchaed nods his head
yniserably.) Hah, you 'ave de shart dere—open 'im out vide, dat de
odder shentilmans see. (Celchaed obeys, spell-bound.) Yare you see
dat blue gross, Yaterloo Shirslm, vere Loart Uxbeeedge lose 'is laig.
Zey cot 'im off and pury him in ze cott-yardt, and a villow grow
oudt of 'im. 'E com 'ere to see the villow growing oudt of his laig.

Culch. (abandoning his map, and edging towards Miss Teotteb).
Hem—we are gazing upon one of the landmarks of our national
history—Miss Tbottee.

Miss T. That's a vurry interesting re-mark. I presume you must
have studied up some for a reflection of that kind. Mr. Podbeey, your
friend has been telling me-■ [She repeats Ceechabd's remark.

Podb. (with interest). Got any more of those, old fellow ?

[Celchaed moves away with disgusted hauteur.

The Guide (re-capturing him). Along dat gross vay, Yeelaixtox
meet Bleshaie. Prussian general, Bleshaer, Yeelaixtox 'e com
hier. I see 'im. Ven 'e see ze maundt, 'e vos vair angri. 'E say,
" Eet is no ze battle-fiel' no more—I com back nevare ! " Zat aidge
is vere do Scots Greys vas. Yen they dell Napoleox 'oo zey are, 'e
say. "Fine mens—splendid mens, I fecnish dem in von hour!"

.I--t 'e say, " Ah, Sire, you do not know dose dairible grey 'orses ! "
Napoleox 'e not know dem. Soelt 'e meet dem at de Peninsulaire—
'e know dem. In dat Shirsh, dventy, dirty dablets to Inglis officers.
Napoleox 'e coaled op 'is laift vink, zey deploy in line, vair you
see my shdeek—ha, ze shentelman is gone avay vonce more !

[C'ELcnAED discovers that the Teottees and Podbeey have gone
down some time ago. At the foot of the steps he finds his
friend waiting for him, alone.
Culch. (with stiff politeness). Sorry you considered it necessary to
stay behind on my account. I see your American friends have
already started for "the station.

Podbury (gloomily). There were only two seats on that coach, and
they wouldn't wait for the next. I don't know why, unless it was
that they saw you coming down the steps. She can't stand you at
any price.

Culch. (with some heat). Just as likely she had had enough of
your buffoonery!

Podb. (with provoking good humour). Come, old chap, don't get
your shirt out with mc. Not my fault if she's found out you think
3rourself too big a swell for her, is it ?

Culch. (hotly). When did I say so—or think so ? It's what you've
told her about me, and I must say I call it-

Podb. Don't talk bosh ! Who said she was forward and bad form
and all the rest of it in the courtyard that first evening ? She was
close by, and heard every word of it, I shouldn't wonder.

Culch. (colouring). It's not of vital importance if she did.
(Whistling.) Few-fee-fee-foo-foodle-di-fee-di-fa-foo.

Podb. Not a bit—to her. Better step out if we mean to catch
that train. (Humming.) La - di - loodle - lumpty - leedle - ran - ti -
loo !

[They step out, Podbeey humming pleasantly and Celchaed
tvhistling viciously, without further conversation, until they
arrive at Braine VAUeud Station—and discover that they have
just missed their train.

vol. CI.

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