Punch (102.1892)

June 4, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 265

in seeing- a humorous element in it, it would be something—but I
LOST LUGGAGE. | can't. It is too forlorn to be at all funny. And tbere is still an

(Or the Experiences of a " Vacuus Viator:') hour and a half to get through before dinner!

i have dined—m a small room, with a stove, a carved buffet, and
At the Douane, Ostend. — Just off Princesse Henriette ; pas- , a portrait of the King of the Belgians ; but my spirits are still low.
sengers hovering about excitedly with bunches of keys, waiting [ German Waiter dubious^ about me; reserving his opinion for the
for their luggage to be brought ashore. Why can't they take things j present. He comes in with a touch of new deference in his manner,
quietly—like me? I don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag ; "Please, a man from de shdation for you." I go out—to find the
labelled at Victoria. Sure to turn up in due time. Some men j sympathetic Porter. My baggage has arrived ? It has ; it is at the
when they travel insist on taking hand-bags into the carriage with j Douane, waiting for me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without
them—foolish, when they might have them put_ in the van and get: elation, but with what, I trust, is a calm dignity—the dignity of a
rid of all responsibility. The douaniers are examining the luggage— \ man who has been misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it.
don't see mine—as yet. It's all right, of course. People who are i At the Station.—I have accompanied the Porter to the Terminus,
going on to Brussels and Antwerp at once would naturally have their : such a pleasant helpful fellow, so intelligent! The Ostend streets
luggage brought out first. Don't see the good of rushing about like ; much less dull at night. Feel relieved, in charity with all the world,
that myself. I shall stay the night here—put up at one of the hotels now that my prodigal portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes
on the Digue, dine, and get through the _ f me into a large luggage-room. Don't see

evening pleasantly at the Kursaal—sure to j^&^kx lmy things just at first. "Your baggage

be something going on. Then I can go « i —ere/" says the Porter, proudly, and

comfortably on by a mid-day train to- , IBP^M points out a little drab valise with shiny

morrow. Meanwhile my luggage still / iSlk m L black leather covers and brass studs—the

tarries. If I was a nervous man—luckily ; i lllpi^/ <vs! kind of thing a man goes a journey with in

I'm not. Come—that's the bag at all j i^m.<^L <~ ■ 7l< i'U^ a French Melodrama! He is quite hurt

events, with everything I shall want for 'y.'^S^^'y^'^^^vV^, when I repudiate it indignantly ; he tries

the night . . . Annoying. Some other j W^m^^^Wl'd i'l4i\ *° conyillce me that it is mine—the fool!

fellow's bag ... No more luggage being \m\ l^k (ffi 111 \ There is no other baggage of any sort, and

brought out. Getting anxious —at least, W^^BSSmi 1 l.'fSS tl 1 mine can't possibly arrive now before to-

just a shade uneasy. Perhaps if I asked luBUBmlli** I i'— ^ ill \ morrow afternoon, if then. Nothing for it

somebody- Accost a Belgian porter ; he ^m^^^W^xl I ■r ^ Mil but to go back, luggageless, to the Hotel—

wants my baggage ticket. They never gave iwBS&iffllM ^ 1 V 11 and face that confounded Waiter,

mc any ticket. It did occur to me (in the j / , J^S^^^^M '■% \ ~ < - I Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't

train) that I had always had my luggage | • , '- mKm, Wm \ ' '-" J l feel quite up to going back to the Hotel
registered on going abroad before, but I jj'f 'W^^KlWum^\ ' \\ \ \ just yet,. The shops, which are small and

supposed they knew best, and didn't worry. f j;/JHHnHnll .\|y. A -,L-:\ rather dimly lighted, depress me. There is

I came away to get a rest and avoid worry, ' • WBBBlEBm ' ' 1 f'l no theatre, nor cafe chantant open appa-

and 1 won't worry , . . The Porter and I ■ ,• |HH^n|n|V\ f, - ■ rently. If there were, I haven't the heart

have gone on board to hunt for the things. ^ (;,.| sHM'-r- I for them to-night. Hear music from a

They aren't there. Left behind at Dover ijjij i| Ml j j 'Wm^BBmHb f ■ \j small estaminet in a back street; female

robablv. Wire for them at once. No idea js , ■Smmmmi! voice, with fine Cockney accent, is singing

ow difficult it was to describe luggage jlT ! , ! flHH1 j "OA, dem Golden Slippers!" Wonder

vividly and yet economically till I tried. i>: ••' '^ByBBwWPi^ i 1 *'1 where my slippers are !

However, it will be sent on by the next iffVt^ ' WKBBtwBm ' \ ^n m¥ Bedroom.—I have had to come

boat, and arrive some time in the evening, 4^3-1 j jUBff 9H \ \\ back at last, and get it over with the Waiter,

so it's of no consequence. Now for the IJPi^tf ~ fiHB H '.' '• J If he felt any surprise, I think it was to

Hotel. Ask for the bus for the Continental. nir P'fK JHHw i 1 "J 1 see me back at all. I have had to ask him

The Continental is not open yet. Very ijrai4p.HHh Wm \V If , if he could get me some sleeping-things to

well, the Hotel de la Plage, then. Closed! fef-LSt :t!i4- hBmhI 1H5LV< 1 ____—' pass fhe night in. And a piece of soap.

All the hotels facing the sea are, it seems. "38 Cfefl^-oBUm 8litSfrv "'' Humiliating, but unavoidable. He pro-

Sympathetic Porter recommends one in the -zdjt X^^^^W^m ■Hb mised, but he has not brought them. Prob-

town, and promises to come and tell me as ^pSz^^^ffiH^ jBjpiBjl ably this last request has done for me, and

soon as the luggage turns up. Jflj ' ^Jjflp^l"' — n<> ^s now communicating with the

At the Hotel.—Find, on getting out of S:^W^Bm WsBk police . . .

the omnibus, that the Hotel is being —~--s^Wi, JSBi'M JMrnifflt A tap at my door. " Please, de tings !"

painted; entrance blocked by ladders and --/^^---^W|fc/J_ ^Bjj^^„1w^ says the Waiter. I have wronged him.

pails. Squeeze past, and am received in - ::,~JWm% ^^^mma^- He has brought me such a nightgown!

the hall by the Proprietress and a German "^-^p- ~ " Never saw anything in the least like it

Waiter. " Certainly they can give me a room l\-1 y before. It has flowers embroidered all down

—my baggage shall be taken up immed-" " <1 the front and round the cuffs, and on every

Here I have to explain that this is impractic- "Please de tines !" button something is worked in tiny blue

able, as my baggage has unfortunately been letters, which, on inspection, turns out to be

left behind. Think I see a change in their manner at this. A stranger i 4' Good-night." I don't quite know why, but, in my present state, I
who comes abroad with nothing but a stick and an umbrella cannot find this strangely consoling, and even touching—like a benediction.
expect to inspire confidence, I suppose. I remark to the Waiter that After all, he must believe in me, or he would hardly confide his
the luggage is sure to follow me by the next boat, but it strikes even purple and fine linen to me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and dream
myself that I do not bring this out with quite a sincere ring. Not that my portmanteau, bag, and self-respect are all restored to me by
at all the manner of a man who possesses a real portmanteau. I j the afternoon boat. . . . There must be something in dreams, for,
order dinner—the kind of dinner, I feel, that a man who did not; oddly enough, this is exactly what does happen,
intend to pay for it would order. I detect this impression in the Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at
Waiter's eye. If he dared, I know he would suggest tea and a ' first sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master at

Dover. " Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the word
in the original was "boxes." But they may call them what they
like, so long as I get them back again.

boiled egg as more seemly under the circumstances

On the Digue.—Thought, it being holiday time, that there would
be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a little lacking in liveli-
ness—hotels, villas, and even the Kursaal all closely boarded up with
lead-coloured shutters. Only other person on Promenade a fisher-
boy scrooping over the tiles in sabots. I come to a glazed shelter, "The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the
and find the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected with British." Dear old Mrs. Ram wants to know "who is commanding
barbed wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down—but ; the British forces in the campaign against the Jebus" (which she
the barbed wire does seem needlessly unkind. Walk along the , spells " Gibus ") ? Mr. Punch is glad to inform his estimable cor-
sand-dunes ; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the arrival respondent that the principal officers commanding in the Gibus
of my luggage. Wonder whether it really was labelled " Ostend." Campaign are Generals Wide-awake, Billicock, Jimceow, Pott,

Suppose the porter thought I said " Rochester " . . . in that case- and Beltoppee. Their strategical movements are worthy of the

I will not worry about it like this. I will go back and see the town. First Nap. _

I have ; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am melan-
choly. I can11 dismiss that miserable luggage from my mind. To Considerate.—Arrangements are to be made for all Standing
be alone in a foreign land, without so much as a clean sock, is a Committees in future to sit at certain hours. " For this relief, much
distressing position for a sensitive person. If I could only succeed thanks," as William Shakspeaee, M.P., observed.

vol on.