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  MR PUNCH ON TOUR.

  PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR.

  Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON.

Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the
cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic
draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its
beginning in 1841 to the present day.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MR. AND MRS. JONES'S WALKING TOUR.--(_At the Shakspeare
Hotel_). _Voice from the office_: "Porter, take this lady and gentleman
to the Romeo and Juliet room."]

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH ON TOUR

THE HUMOUR OF TRAVEL AT HOME AND ABROAD

[Illustration]

DEPICTED BY

PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE, GEORGE DU MAURIER, L. RAVEN-HILL, BERNARD
PARTRIDGE, F. H. TOWNSEND, DUDLEY HARDY, REGINALD CLEAVER, GORDON
BROWNE, LEWIS BAUMER, G. D. ARMOUR, A. WALLIS MILLS, LANCE THACKERAY,
AND OTHERS

_WITH 153 ILLUSTRATIONS_

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"

[Illustration]

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

_Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo. 192 pages fully illustrated_

  LIFE IN LONDON
  COUNTRY LIFE
  IN THE HIGHLANDS
  SCOTTISH HUMOUR
  IRISH HUMOUR
  COCKNEY HUMOUR
  IN SOCIETY
  AFTER DINNER STORIES
  IN BOHEMIA
  AT THE PLAY
  MR. PUNCH AT HOME
  ON THE CONTINONG
  RAILWAY BOOK
  AT THE SEASIDE
  MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
  IN THE HUNTING FIELD
  MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
  WITH ROD AND GUN
  MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
  BOOK OF SPORTS
  GOLF STORIES
  IN WIG AND GOWN
  ON THE WARPATH
  BOOK OF LOVE
  WITH THE CHILDREN

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE HUMOUR OF TRAVEL

[Illustration]

There is nothing insular about MR. PUNCH. Judging by his features,
familiar though these be and long as they have been typical of English
humour, he is not without some trace of foreign origin. Indeed, we fancy
that were a very searching enquiry to be made into his ancestry we might
find he had a far-off forebear who was, let us say, Italian! Perhaps we
have here the explanation of his breadth of mind and wide sympathy
which, however deeply rooted in the good soil of old England, are by no
means absolutely delimited by our coast line.

It is thus that we find him consistently the best of travelling
companions, for there is none he is more ready to castigate with the
whip of his satire than the insular Englishman abroad. This is as it
should be, and in these days of the _entente cordiale_ especially, when
the inducements to Continental travel are steadily increasing, all
patriotic Englishmen are anxious that their fellow-countrymen should
give as good an account of themselves as possible when visiting the fair
lands of our friends across the silver streak.

[Illustration]

MR. PUNCH, while always ready to stand for English ideals of right and
fair-dealing, has equally endeavoured throughout his long career to show
that all the good manners of Europe are not to be found on the
Continent. But above all, wherever he goes, let his travels be within
those green isles where he reigns as king of fun or as far afield as the
land of the Sphinx, he diffuses that good humour which is the essential
characteristic of the Englishman and adds so much to the joy of life.
The present collection, illustrative of the humours of travel at home
and abroad, certainly does not bear out the ancient criticism as to the
English taking their pleasures sadly. Like many another book in this
same library it proves rather that they take their misadventures
joyously.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH ON TOUR

[Illustration]

MRS. RAMSBOTHAM IN ROME.--When Mrs. R. was in Rome she insisted on the
guide taking her and her party to see the Papal Bulls of which she had
always heard so much. "I suppose," she said, "they're kept on some farm,
and are exhibited for prizes just like the King's or the Prince of
Wales'." The worthy lady added that she couldn't help laughing to think
what a mistake she made in Holland when she was taken to see "Paul
Potter's Bull," which turned out to be only a picture.

       *       *       *       *       *

A CURIOUS LANDSCAPE FEATURE OBSERVABLE AT MONTE CARLO IN THE EARLY
SPRING.--Blue Rocks.

       *       *       *       *       *

HINTS TO TOURISTS

If you are put with a friend in a double-bedded room, bear in mind that
inside walls are only lath and plaster, and that every word you say will
be heard in the next room. Therefore carry on your conversation at the
tip-top of your voice, and make as much noise as you can in packing, and
in splashing, and in stumping round your room.

Always give to beggars who waylay you on the road, and if you know their
language, accompany your gift with a little stagey speech to the effect
that all we English have more money than we know how to spend, and it is
our duty when we travel to succour the distressed. This will mightily
encourage the impostors in their trade, and engender a great nuisance
for tourists who are poorer or less foolish than yourself.

       *       *       *       *       *

SHE MEANT NOTHING WRONG.--_Curate to American Visitor._ How do you like
our church, Mrs. Golightly? It is very generally admired.

_Mrs. Golightly._ Yes, it's very pretty, but if it only had a clock
fitted on the tower, it would be _useful_ as well as ornamental.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: TACTFUL SYMPATHY

_Genial Friend._ "Hullo, old man, getting on all right?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Our artist, while staying in the country, thinks it would
be a good opportunity for studying _calves_.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Yachting Man._ "Well, I always said you were a plucky
fellow, Splinter; but really, now, I did not give you credit----"

_Splinter_ (_not displeased_). "How do you mean?"

_Yachting Man._ "Why, with your spars, to put out in such a gale o' wind
as this."]

       *       *       *       *       *

TRAVELLERS' TALES

_First Traveller_ (_in the smoking-room_). I think the most marvellous
sight I ever saw was when I was crossing the Bight of Benin. You know
the Bight?

_Second Traveller._ Perfectly. Shot two sea-serpents there last year.

_Third Traveller._ I landed hard by when I cycled across Africa.

_First Traveller._ Well, it was there we sighted a man who had crossed
from Buenos Ayres on a hen-coop, with a cotton umbrella for a sail,
and----

_Other Travellers_ (_jealously in chorus_). Oh! Come, I say!

_Quiet Man_ (_in corner_). Oh, I'll vouch for the truth of the
assertion.

_First Traveller_ (_nettled_). How's that?

_Quiet Man._ Why, _I_ was the man.

    [_Company disperses._

       *       *       *       *       *

NEXT BEST THING TO THE PERSIAN LOCOMOTIVE CARPET OF EASTERN FABLE.--The
"Travelling Rug" of Western fact.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Brown, who has had a hard day sight-seeing, in Tunis,
goes to a café for a quiet drink and rest. Result!]

       *       *       *       *       *

A HAPPY HOLIDAY

  Now I really do not care a
  Hang about the Riviera,
  In the daytime you've a gay time,
    But the nights are very cold.
  And for any kind of touring,
  Which I used to find alluring,
  I for biking had a liking,
    But I now have grown too old.

  Then the constant change of weather
  To my thinking, altogether
  Knocked the notion of an ocean
    Trip completely on the head;
  I've a horror, too, of "trippers,"
  'Arrys, 'Arriets, and "nippers,"
  So a jolly quiet holi-
    Day I spent at home in bed.

       *       *       *       *       *

NO DIFFERENCE.--_English Customer_ (_to Manager of restaurant_). I see,
Signor Maraschino, that the American gentleman and his wife who have
just left drank nothing but water with their dinner. Does that make much
difference in their bill?

_Signor Maraschino._ Noting, sir. They pay same as yourself and lady,
who 'ave champagne. Oderwise 'ow should we live?

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE GREAT LOAN LAND."--Russia.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WHAT DID MR. PUNCH DO IN THE EASTER RECESS?--Volunteer
review! Not a bit of it! He just popped over, and had a few days of
delightful _dolce far niente_ at Venice.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Papa, Maman, et Bébé s'en vont à la pêche aux crevettes.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FIN DE LA SAISON.--(_At a Cercle Anglais. "Le Fiv'
o'clock," i.e., Afternoon Tea._)

_Britisher._ "_Coming to the ball to-night, Count?_"

_Monsieur le Comte._ "Moi, mon cher? Ah, non. I am tired. I have the
ache everywhere. I have play the football!"

_Britisher._ "Good! What?--Forward, half-back?"

_Monsieur le Comte._ "Forward! Half-back! Par exemple, I am
'Arbitre'--how you say it?--Referee!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

IMPRESSIONS FROM ABROAD

(_By Our Susceptible Subscriber_)

Impressions on my hat after going down the salt mine at Berchtesgaden.

Impressions on my alpenstock after looking at the Alpine Peaks from
below with an opera-glass.

Impressions on my nose and forehead by the mosquitoes, when I would be
poetical and stay all the evening on the Rialto at Venice.

Impressions on my ears by the bad language of my guide, when I refused
to pay for the echoes awakened on the Rhine by an ancient howitzer.

Impressions on my heart by memories of that pretty little Frenchwoman I
travelled with from Turin.

Impressions on my feet by her sweet little _bottines_.

Impression on my mind, after Mrs. P. detected those _bottines_ too near
my boots, that it would be better not to be so susceptible another time.

       *       *       *       *       *

THOUGHT BY A TOURIST.--Too many Cook's Excursionists spoil the _table
d'hôte_.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE RULING PASSION

_Customs Official._ "Have you anything to declare?"

_Absent-minded Traveller_ (_Bridge-player, just catching last word_).
"Oh, leave it to you!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration:: INTERNATIONAL COMPARISONS

_Henri Dubois_ (_who can speak English_) _to his friend 'Arry Smith_
(_who can't_). "Pardon me, mon ami! You are very pretty boy, you dress
in ze most perfect 'chic'; but vy do you speak your own language so
ungrammaticallé?"

'_Arry._ "Why do I speak my hown langwidge so hungrammatical? 'Ang it,
yer down't suppowse as I were hedgerkited at Heton or 'Arrow like a
bloomin' swell, do yer?"

_Henri._ "Voyez donc ça! Now in France zere is no Eton, no Harrow: all
ze public schools are ze same, and ze butcher and baker's little boys go
zere, and ze little candlestick-makers, and ze little boys of ze
merchants of cheese like you and me!"

'_Arry._ "Come, I s'y, Walker, yer know! And where do their customers'
little boys go?"

_Henri._ "Parbleu! Zey go zere too!!"

    ['_Arry, suddenly conscious of his deficiencies, feels
    bitterly towards his country._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES"

_Old Gentleman._ "Are you certain that these life-belts are cork, and
not half sawdust?"

_Storeman._ "They are the best quality. We have sold hundreds, and never
had a complaint!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

HAPPY GEOGRAPHICAL THOUGHT (_when crossing the Channel in exceptionally
rough weather_).--"Oh dear! What a pity that the sea everywhere can't be
the Pacific Ocean!"

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE TRAVELLERS' CLUB."--An alpenstock.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FOREIGN HOTELS.--"WHAT!--NO SOAP!"--"Oh--er--juste
regardez ici, mademoiselle! Vous nous avez chargé pour le _savon_--et
nous ne l'avons pas _usé_, vous savez, car----"

"Oh, mamma! How _can_ you!"

    [_Poor things! they had brought their own._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE LAST THING OUT.--Sensation created every morning at
Crevetteville-sur-Mer by Colonel F---- (of the Guards) and the lovely
Lady Magnolia D----.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE PERSONAL EQUATION.--_Ducal Butler_ (_showing art
treasures of Stilton Castle_). "The three Graces--after Canova!"

_Mrs Ramsbotham._ "How interesting! And pray, which is the _present_
Duchess?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Her Husband_ (_going on the Continent_). "Look here,
Arabella, from now you and I will speak nothing but French."

_Arabella._ "_Oui._"

_Her Husband._ "What did you say?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "EASIER SAID THAN DONE"

_Stout Traveller_ (_in the Eastern Counties_). "My lad--which is
the--quickest way--for me to get to the station?"

_Street Arab._ "Wh' run bo'! 'th' else yeow'll sartain'y lewse th'
tr'ine! There goo th' bell!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DESPAIR!

Brown has locked his portmanteau with one of those letter padlocks and
forgotten the word that opens it.

    [_Only ten minutes to dinner!_

]

       *       *       *       *       *

VIATOR'S VADE MECUM

(_Or Compendious Weather-Guide for the British Tourist_)

  When the wind is in the North,
  Gingham take if you go forth.
  If to Eastward veer the wind,
  Gingham do not leave behind.
  If to West the wind should tend,
  Gingham is your surest friend.
  If it seek the South, of course,
  Gingham is your sole resource.
  Intermediate points demand
  Gingham constantly in hand.
  If there be no wind at all,
  Gingham take, for rain will fall.
  At all other times, no doubt,
  Gingham you may do without,
  Yet e'en then an hour may bring 'em,--
  Showers I mean,--so take your Gingham!

       *       *       *       *       *

_English Tourist_ (_in the far North, miles from anywhere_). "Do you
mean to say that you and your family live here all the winter? Why, what
do you do when any of you are ill? You can never get a doctor!"

_Scotch Shepherd._ "Nae, sir. We've just to dee a natural death!"

       *       *       *       *       *

_The_ PLACE IN HOT WEATHER.--Lazistan.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE WATER CURE

_Young Lady._ "So you've been on the Continent, Professor?"

_The Professor._ "Yes, I've been to Marienbad, taking the baths, you
know."

_Young Lady._ "Really? That _was_ a change for you, wasn't it?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "Oh! con-found these country looking-glasses, though!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE HOT WEATHER

_Traveller_ (_bedtime, thermometer 100°!_). "Waiter, go' sh'ch a thing
as a warmin'-pan?"

_Waiter_ (_astounded_). "A warming-pan, sir!"

_Traveller._ "And got any ice?"

_Waiter._ "Ice, sir? Yessir!"

_Traveller._ "Then tell 'chamb'maid to run a pan of ice through my bed,
and let me have my candle. I'll turn in!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SCENE--_An Indian Station, on the eve of a Fancy
Ball._--_Globe-trotting "Bounder"_ (_newly arrived_). "You're running
this ball, ain't you? Is fancy dress _de rigueur_?"

_Choleric Colonel_ (_who is Ball Secretary_). "Fancy dress, sir, is not
_de rigueur_, but an invitation _is_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: UP COUNTRY JOYS IN INDIA.--_The Mem Sahib_ (_with a view
to seasonable festivities_). "I wonder if you have got such a thing as
lemon peel or candied peel in your shop?"

_"Europe Shop" Keeper._ "Ah, no, Mem Sahib. Onlee got it 'cockle' peel
and 'beesham' peel!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE TRAVELLERS' PROTECTION LEAGUE

The T. P. L. commenced operations last week with regard to the
unpunctuality of certain railway companies, and should be encouraged to
go a little farther. We want protection against:--

1. Passengers who try to keep us out of carriages by fictitiously
placing hats and wraps on more seats or corners than they will
themselves occupy.

2. Passengers who endeavour to enter carriages when we have fictitiously
placed hats and wraps on more seats or corners than we shall ourselves
occupy.

3. People who smoke bad tobacco in compartments where there are ladies.

4. Ladies who ride in compartments where we smoke bad tobacco.

5. Parties who insist upon having the window open when we wish it shut.

6. Parties who insist upon having the window shut when we wish it open.

7. Persons who try to squeeze in when our carriage is full.

8. Persons who try to keep us out when their carriage is full.

9. Objectionable babies.

10. Objectors to babies.

And a job lot of grievances, viz.:--

11. The British landscape, now consisting of pill advertisements.

12. Clapham Junction.

13. Bank Holiday traffic and excursionists, racing and football crowds.

14. The weather.

15. Nasty smelling smoke.

16. Irritatingly uncertain lamps.

17. The increase in the income-tax.

18. The cussedness of things in general.

19. And, lastly, the Billion Dollar Trust.

If the T. P. L. will abate or abolish any or all of these nuisances we
shall be very greatly obliged.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A TIGHT FIT

_Chorus of Girls_ (_to popular party on bank_). "Oh, do come with us,
there's _plenty_ of room!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

MRS. RAMSBOTHAM was asked if she liked yachting, and she replied that
she preferred _terra-cotta_. She probably meant _terra-firma_.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "WHEN A MAN DOES NOT LOOK HIS BEST"

When, after lunching sumptuously at a strange hotel in a strange part of
the country, it suddenly occurs to him that he has left his purse, with
all his money in it, in the mail train going North.]

       *       *       *       *       *

AT MUNICH.--_Mr. Joddletop_ (_to travelling companion at Bierhalle_).
What they call this larger beer for I'm blessed if I know! Why, it's
thinner than what I drink at home.

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH'S COUNTRY RAMBLES

(_With acknowledgments to the "Daily Chronicle"_)

A memorable afternoon may be spent by taking the train to Muggleton, and
walking from there by way of Mudford, Sloppington,
Stickborough-in-the-Marsh, Drencham, St. Swithuns, and Swillingspout to
Poddleton-on-the-Slosh. The whole district is full of memories of the
great Hodge family (before it migrated into the towns). Quite a number
of mute, inglorious Miltons are buried in Poddleton churchyard, but a
few people may still be seen in the market-place on Saturdays.

_Route of Ramble._--Alighting at Muggleton Station (too much
reliance should not be placed upon the elocution of the local
railway porter) leave the refreshment room resolutely on the left
(as you will need to keep your intelligence clear), and proceed in a
north-north-east-half-northerly direction along a winding lane, until
Mudford Beacon appears in the rear. Then turn back across six meadows
and a ploughed field, following alternately the bed of a stream and the
right bank of the canal until Sloppington is reached. From there follow
the boundary line between the counties of Mudshire and Slopshire as far
as Stickborough: from two to seven miles further on (according to the
best local computation) lies Drencham, where is a remarkable pump.
Leaving this landmark south-west-by-west, veer sharply to the left
twice, and pursue a zig-zag course. If, at the twenty-second field, you
are not within easy reach of Swillingspout it will be because you are
incapable of following this brief chronicle. From the last-named place
the nearest way to Poddleton is through the railway tunnel. It is not
public, but persons have sometimes succeeded in getting through.
Poddleton is nine miles from a station, but an omnibus walks the
distance occasionally, when the horse is not required for funerals or
other purposes.

_Length of Ramble._--Doubtful. Has only been done in sections.

       *       *       *       *       *

MISS-GUIDED FOLKS IN PARIS.--Evidently those who are personally
conducted by "Lady Guides."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "BY THE CARD"

_Pedestrian._ "How far is it to Sludgecombe, boy?"

_Boy._ "Why, 'bout twenty 'underd theausan' mild 'f y' goo 's y'are
agooin' now, an' 'bout half a mild 'f you turn right reaound an' goo
t'other way!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Traveller._ "Can you direct me to Hollow Meadows?"

_Hodge_ (_who stutters frightfully_). "Ye-ye-ye-yes. You t-t-t-t-take
the f-f-f-first t-t-t-t-turning on th-the right, and ku-ku-ku-keep
straight on ower th' b-b-b-brig. Bu-bub-bub-but you'd bub-bub-bub-better
be gu-gu-gu-gangin' on. You'll gu-gu-get there quicker th-th-th-than I
can t-t-t-tell you!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MUCH PLEASANTER FOR ALFRED

_Constance_ (_adding the last straw_). "There, darling! I hope I've
forgotten nothing. And oh, Alfred! how much, _much_ pleasanter to carry
our things ourselves, and be alone together, than to have a horrid
servant trotting behind us, and listening to every word we say!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SOMETHING FROM THE PROVINCES

_Excursionist_ (_politely_). "Can you kindly direct me the nearest way
to Slagley?"

_Powerful Navvy._ "Ah can poonch th' head o' thee!"

    _[Excursionist retires hastily._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ON THE COLONIAL TOUR

_Famous Pianist._ "Himmel! how hot it is! I really think I might just
have half an inch cut off--just round the nape of my neck you know. Just
_thinned_ a little----"

_His Agent._ "Out of the question, my boy. Remember clause seven in the
agreement--'Your hair not to be cut till the last concert in Australia
is over'!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: EVOLUTION EXTRAORDINARY

_British Tourist_ (_who has been served with a pig's foot_). "What's
this? I ordered quail!"

_Negro Waiter._ "Wall--y'ev got quail!"

_British Tourist._ "Quail! Why a quail's a bird!"

_Negro Waiter._ "_Not here!_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE IDEAL HOLIDAY

  Come, Phyllis, for the season is already on the wane,
  And the question of our holiday perplexes once again;
  Now every jaded Londoner fresh stores of vigour seeks,
  Our problem is how best to pass these few and fleeting weeks.

  As one by one each watering-place we call to mind in turn
  As promptly some objection to each one we discern;
  Thus Scarborough's too chilly, and Ilfracombe too hot,
  And this too near, and that too dear, that sandy and this not.

  The Alps are always overrun and crowded as Cheapside,
  And the garlic-reeking South I own I never could abide;
  The _Bads_--Aix, Vichy, Taunus, Homburg, Carlsbad, Neuenahr,
  Are either vulgar, crowded, dull, expensive, or too far.

  Oh, for some new and lone retreat, nor far away nor near,
  With lovely sights to charm the eye, soft sounds to soothe the ear;
  Where vexed and wearied spirits, such as yours and mine, might rest,
  And find in life new purpose, in its joys unwonted zest;

  Some Aidenn, some Elysium of rapturous delight,
  Where peace should reign unbroken from the dawn to fall of night!
  Yet since for the impossible in vain we yearn, 'tis clear,
  It will end no doubt as usual, in "Good old Margate," dear.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "THE _VALET_ OF THE NILE"

Much talked about, but very seldom seen!]

       *       *       *       *       *

"A railway from Joppa to Jerusalem" sounds like a Scriptural line. In
future, "going to Jericho" will not imply social banishment, as the
party sent thither will be able to take a return-ticket.

       *       *       *       *       *

SO NICE AND SYMPATHETIC.--A gentleman, whose one glass eye had served
him for years, had the misfortune to drop it. It smashed to atoms. This
happened when he was far away in the country. He inquired of a friend
where was the nearest place for him to go and get refitted.

"Why don't you call upon the girl you were flirting with all last
night?" his friend inquired. "She has a first-class reputation for making
eyes."

       *       *       *       *       *

BALLOONERY.--"We went spinning through the air!" said an enthusiastic
aeronaut, describing his recent trial trip.

"Indeed!" observed his companion, meditatively. "Judging by your
description it sounds as if you had been in an 'heir-loom' instead of an
'air-ship.'"

       *       *       *       *       *

AT BRUSSELS.--_Mrs. Trickleby_ (_pointing to an announcement in grocer's
window, and spelling it out_). _Jambon d'Yorck._ What's that mean, Mr.
T.?

_Mr. T_. (_who is by way of being a linguist_). Why, good Yorkshire
preserves, of course. What did you suppose it was--Dundee marmalade?

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "CAUTION! THIS HILL IS DANGEROUS!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TO ABSENT FRIENDS.

(_By a Fox without a Tail._)

  Dear Brown and Jones and Robinson and many thousands more,
  Now spending dismal holidays on some dank sea-girt shore,
  You, who affect to pity those compelled in town to stay,
  Should rather envy us, because we cannot get away.

  While you are hiring tiny rooms at many pounds a week,
  And huddle there and watch parades that run with rain, and reek,
  Contrast my cheerful aspect with your discontented looks,
  As here I stay at ease among my pictures and my books.

  Here in the trains the traveller can now find ample space,
  Enjoying elbow-room without a struggle for a place:
  The choicest dishes are not "off" at half-past one to lunch,
  And no one spoils our appetite with--"After you with _Punch_!"

  The dainty shops of Regent Street teem with their treasures still,
  The Park with all its beauties we can now enjoy at will;
  No longer do the jostling crowds provoke an angry frown,
  But leisurely we relish the amenities of town.

  Thus basking in the keen delights that empty London owns
  (Though from my heart I pity you--Brown, Robinson and Jones),
  So long as you may care to stay, and business is slack,
  I cannot honestly declare I long to see you back.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: TRIPPERS

_Tommy_ (_his first visit_). "Will it be like this all d-d-d-day
daddy?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Billiard Enthusiast_ (_having mistaken his room at the
hotel, holding on to knobs of bed_). "Which do you prefer, sir? Spot or
plain?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

When the chairman of a railway company speaks of "the diversion of
traffic," may it be understood that "pleasure trips and excursions" are
covered by this expression?

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ENGLAND AND GERMANY

_British Nimrod_ (_who has shot tigers in India, and lions in South
Africa_). "The fact is, Herr Muller, that I don't care much for sport
unless it contains the element of danger."

_German Nimrod._ "Ach zo? you are vont of _taincher_? Den you should gom
ant shood mit _me_! Vy, only de oder tay I shoodet my broder-in-law in
de shdômag!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

CUTTING A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.--_Major Longi'th'Bow._ I met a Brahmin once
with "John Smith, London," carved on his back. You see he was standing
motionless in one of those pious trances which nothing is allowed to
interrupt. In this state he was found by a cheap-tripper, who took him
for a statue and cut his name as usual.

       *       *       *       *       *

AT FLORENCE.--_First Tourist._ Hullo! Barkins, what brought you here?

_Second Tourist_ (_facetiously_). The railway, of course. And you?

_First Tourist_ (_getting mixed, but thinking he has his friend_). My
wife's wish to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa!

       *       *       *       *       *

SUITABLE SPOTS.--_Gainsborough_--for greedy tradesmen; _Gnosall_--for
wiseacres; _Gravesend_--for sextons; _Great Barr_--for constant topers;
_Grind-on_--for crammers; _Halt-whistle_--for football umpires;
_Hastings_--for wasps; _Hawkshead_--for falconers; _Honi-ton_--for busy
bees; _Hoot-on_--for owls.

       *       *       *       *       *

CRY OF THE TRAVELLING SMOKER.--_En_ briar root!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SNUB FOR A SNOB

_English Tourist._ "Aw--that buttermilk was very nice, my dear. What
payment do you expect for it?"

_Cottage Girl._ "We wouldn't be after asking any payment. Sure we _give_
it to the pigs!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MISPLACED SYMPATHY

(_The "Boots" at the Shadow of Death Hotel, in the back block of
Australia, on seeing a pair of boot-trees for the first time._)

"I say, Billy, that poor bloke in the bed-room must 'ave ad a terrible
accident. He's got two wooden feet!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

_Mrs. Tripper_ (_examining official notice on the walls of Boulogne_).
What's that mean, Tripper, "Pas de Calais"?

_Tripper_ (_who is proud of his superior acquaintance with a foreign
language_). It means--"Nothing to do with Calais," my dear. These rival
ports are dreadfully jealous of one another.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS, &c.

_Jones._ "I say, what's the exact meaning of 'voilà'?"

_Brown._ "Well, I should translate it as 'behold,' or 'there you are,'
or something like that."

_Jones._ "Confound it! I've been using it for the last month and
thinking I've been swearing in French!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BASHAN, NEAR BARMOUTH

The worst of Wales is, the wild beasts are so numerous and inquisitive.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: GEOLOGY.--_Scientific Pedestrian._ "Do you find any
fossils here?"

_Excavator._ "Dunno what you calls 'vossuls.' We finds nowt here but
muck and 'ard work!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MUSIC ON THE WATERS.--_Parker._ "Beg pardon, my lady, but
the band can't play the selection your ladyship asked for."

_Her Ladyship_ (_astonished_). "But it's in their programme!"

_Parker._ "Yes, my lady, but they can't play it till we get into still
water, and _then they'll try_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE COMFORTER.--"I say, old man, I've just been down in
the saloon, and they give you the finest half-crown lunch I've ever
struck!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A MOOT POINT.--_Mrs. Brown_ (_on her honeymoon_). "Oh,
aren't you glad, darling, we have come this delightful tour, instead of
going to one of those stupid foreign places?"

    [_Darling is not quite sure about it, as the hills are of terrible
    frequency, and, naturally, he tows his bride up every one._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BAD HABITS GROW APACE.--_Traveller_ (_whose train is
due_). "Look here, I'm going to get out and walk. That brute will make
me miss my train!"

_Jarvey._ "Kape still, surr. For the love av' Moses, kape still. Sure
an' if the ould blayguard bates us, I'll niver get him up to the station
no more!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE TRAVELLERS TRICKED

(_An à propos Duologue_)

_She_ (_with resolution_). Charlie, I want to ask your pardon. I have
made a mistake.

_He._ Yes, dear; which of them?

_She._ You shall not put me out by sneering. Yes, I have made a mistake;
and when I make a mistake, I do not fail to acknowledge it.

_He._ Quite right, dear. Nothing like having a congenial occupation.

_She._ Charlie, we came back to town prematurely.

_He._ Yes, dear; we certainly curtailed our stay in Paris a little to
allow of your purchasing that pretty bonnet.

_She._ It cost a lot of money, Charlie.

_He._ It did, dear; but I did not grudge it, as you and the shop girl
said it was of the first mode and the greatest novelty in Paris.

_She._ Yes, Charlie; and I believed her.

_He._ Well, I am sure that the three or four days we cut off were well
worth it, to buy the bonnet.

_She._ How good, how noble of you to say so!

_He._ Not at all; I was really glad to get back to the club. And you
have your bonnet--a real genuine French bonnet! And the most Parisian
shape imaginable.

_She_ (_with an effort_). The shape is not Parisian.

_He._ Not Parisian! Where does it come from?

_She._ I see from a ticket in the lining it was made in the Edgware
Road.

    [_Tears and curtain._

       *       *       *       *       *

AT WINDSOR.--_American Traveller_ (_to Waiter at the "Blue Stag"_). Say,
is it true that you've got a real live ghost here?

_Waiter._ Yessir. Believed to be either Cardinal Garnet Wolseley, 'Erne
the 'Untsman, Queen Elizabeth, or the late King of the Belgiums.

_American Traveller._ Thanks. Send for the local reporter, if off duty
in any one capacity.

       *       *       *       *       *

SUITABLE SPOTS.--_Ware-ham_--for abstainers from pork;
_Whits-table_--for facetious gourmets; _Wig-more_--for bald men;
_Wig-ton_--for perruquiers; _Winfarthing_--for small gamblers;
_Wo-burn_--for firemen.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: NOSÉ IN EGITTO; OR, AUTOMOBILITY IN THE LAND OF THE
SPHINX.

"One touch of _Punch_ makes the whole world kin."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A QUESTION OF PROPORTION.--_Colonel Peppercorn_ (_who is
touring in France with a hired chauffeur and car, which has broken
down_). "Confound it all, you say it's nothing? Then why don't you
repair it?"

_Alphonse Legros._ "Mais, monsieur, pas possible, he break below! I
cannot arrive there! He is only quinze centimètres from ze ground; but
me--voilà--I have one mètre round ze chest!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SKELETON TOURIST'S VADE MECUM

_Question._ What is your object this year?

_Answer._ To follow the precedent of former Summers, and get over as
much ground as possible.

_Q._ How do you manage this?

_A._ With the assistance of a ticket guaranteed to make distance a
greater consideration than scenery.

_Q._ Is it necessary to examine the places _en route_ with much careful
consideration?

_A._ Certainly not, as the Guide-book of the place visited will supply
the compulsory omissions.

_Q._ What are compulsory omissions?

_A._ Objects of interest left out for want of time to give them an
inspection.

_Q._ How long would you give St. Peter's at Rome?

_A._ A quarter of an hour, and the Colosseum at the same place ten
minutes.

_Q._ Could you not spare more time than this from your holiday?

_A._ No; for luncheon and dinner have to be taken into consideration in
the touring table.

_Q._ What object of interest would you examine in the Land of the
Midnight Sun?

_A._ The sun at midnight, if it happened to be shining.

_Q._ And if you visited the Rhine by the railway, what object of
interest would chiefly attract your attention?

_A._ The interior of the compartment in which you happened to be
travelling.

_Q._ What advantage would you derive from your tour?

_A._ The satisfaction of explaining to non-tourists where you had been
rather than what you had seen.

_Q._ Do you consider that your mind would derive much benefit from your
rapid locomotion?

_A._ Not much, nor my body either.

_Q._ But I presume your outing would justify the title of this Vade
Mecum?

_A._ Most certainly; because, by the end of your journey, you might
accurately describe your condition as one who had been reduced to a
skeleton.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Nervous Tourist._ "Stop, driver, stop! There's something
wrong! I am sure a wheel's coming off!"

_Driver._ "Arrah, be aisy then, yer honour. Sure, it's the same one's
been comin' off thin these three days back!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: (_Sketched on the pier just after the arrival of the
boat._)

_'Arry_ (_viewing stormy sea in a mutoscope_). "My eye, Maria, come an'
'ave a look 'ere. The motion of the waives is simply grand!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A CONTINENTAL TRIP.--_First Man_ (_tasting beer_).
"Hullo! I ordered lager. This isn't lager!"

_Second Man_ (_tasting_). "No; but it's jolly good, all the same!"

_Third Man_ (_tasting_). "C'est magnifique! mais ce n'est pas
lager-r-r!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ON THE GRAND TOUR.--Scene--_Staircase of the Palazzo
Bianco._--(_Enter the Joneses of London._) _Chorus of Maidens._ "O, ma,
dear! O, papa! do look! _Isn't_ this charming? _Isn't_ it delightful?
Only fancy--the _Bragginton Smiths_ were here last month!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE FAULT OF THE FOWL

SCENE--_Coffee-Room, Hotel, Guernsey._

_Visitor_ (_gazing at a guinea-fowl's egg_). "Waiter! Can you tell me
what egg this is?"

_Waiter._ "Oh, sir, it's a Guernsey egg. They sometimes lays them like
that. It's not done in the boiling!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: CORRECTED.--_Lady Tourist_ (_doing the cathedrals of
Scotland_). "This is _Gothic_, isn't it, John?"

_Juvenile Vendor of "Guides"_ (_severely_). "No, mem, _this is
Presbyterian_."]

       *       *       *       *       *

At HOMBURG-V.-D.-H.--_Colonel Twister_ (_in the hotel smoking-room_).
Yes! I once played a game of pool at Senecarabad, holding the cue in my
teeth, and captured all the loot!

_Captain Longbow._ Pooh! That's nothing! About a month ago I matched
myself at shell-out against Fred Fandango, and clutching the cue between
my toes, walked in lying on my back!

_Colonel Twister_ (_taken unawares_). But how the deuce did you manage
to see the table?

_Captain Longbow._ See the table? Why, had the cloth lighted with
Röntgen rays, of course! Saw through the slate!

     [_The Colonel abruptly says "Good Night" to the company, and leaves
     for Schlangenbad next morning._

       *       *       *       *       *

FORCE OF HABIT.--Recently two bankers met abroad. They at once began to
compare notes.

       *       *       *       *       *

NEW NAME FOR SEA-SICKNESS.--_Mal de Little Mary._

       *       *       *       *       *

MRS. RAMSBOTHAM wants to know whether the inhabitants of the Fiji
Islands are called the Fijits.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: YOUNG AUSTRALIA

SCENE--_Highland Gathering in the Antipodes._

"Well, my little man, so you're Scotch, eh?"

"Nae, nae, a'am nae Scotch, but ma pairents is."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A SENSATIONAL DRAMA IN THREE ACTS AND FIVE TABLEAUX.

(_Showing how he got in for it and how he came out of it rather the
worse for "wear"._)

MR. JOGGLES HAVING CAREFULLY SELECTED A RETIRED SPOT DEPOSITED HIS
CLOTHES IN A CAVE SEES A LITTLE WAY BELOW HIM A SPARKLING POOL FED BY A
TORRENT FROM ABOVE--A NATURAL SHOWER BATH, INTO WHICH HE WILL JOYFULLY
DESCEND.

THIS IS WHAT HE EXPECTED BEFORE TAKING A DIP.

BUT A PICNIC PARTY HAVING TERMINATED THEIR LUNCHEON, UNWITTINGLY
REARRANGE MATTERS.

MR. JOGGLES IS COMPELLED TO REMAIN OVER HIS USUAL TIME IN HIS BATH.

IN THE MEANTIME THE GOATS HAVE BEEN BUSY WITH HIS CLOTHES.]

       *       *       *       *       *

FOR A CHANGE

  Fagged and jaded, Daphne mine,
  For our annual change I pine.
  Once again the problem's here,
  Whither we shall go this year.
  Let who will seek lake or moor,
  "_Bad_" or hydro, spa or "_kur_,"
  Switzerland and Germany
  Have no charms for you and me.
  There while restless tourists haste,
  "Good old Margate" suits our taste.
  On its old familiar ground
  We will make the usual round.
  Meet Smith, Robinson and Brown,
  Whom we daily see in town;
  Hear the niggers or the bands
  On the pier, the fort, the sands;
  Revel in each well-known joy,
  Then, when these enchantments cloy,
  And for change again we yearn,
  Why, then, Daphne, we'll return.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE number of stowaways who secrete themselves in big vessels is
becoming a growing evil. A Norwegian barquantine reached Plymouth on
Friday with an entire cargo of hides.

       *       *       *       *       *

A VERY REVOLTING PLACE.--Brazil.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: French Tourist, on a visit to London for the first time,
makes a note in his pocket-book of the name of the street in which his
hotel is situated.]

       *       *       *       *       *

À BERLIN.--Although Berlin is "on the Spree," its cheerfulness is
considerably discounted by "the Oder" in its vicinity.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "JOINT OCCUPATION"

(_Suggested by Cook's Tourist in Egypt._)]

       *       *       *       *       *

OVERHEARD AT CHAMONIX.--_Stout British Matron_ (_in a broad British
accent, to a slim diligence driver_). Êtes-vous la diligence?

_Driver._ Non, madame, mais j'en suis le cocher.

_Matron_ (_with conviction_). C'est la même chose; gardez pour moi trois
places dans votre intérieur demain.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PHILLIPOPOLIS

_Toper Major_ (_over their third bottle of a Grand Vin_). "I shay, ol'
f'ler, neksh year thinksh'll go see ex'bishun at Ph-Phipp at
Philup-popple----"

_Toper Minor._ "I know, ol' f'ler. You mean Philipoppoppo--poppo----"

_Toper Major._ "Thatsh it--shame place. Have 'nother bo'l!"

    [_They drink._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

NOT SO PRETTY IN ENGLISH

(_Three Friends meet at Monte Carlo._)

_First Friend._ No, I'm not staying here. Just run over from Canes.

_Second F._ And I from Fat.

_Third F._ And I'm with my people at Chin.

     [We presume the travellers referred to Cannes, Grasse, and
     Menton.--ED.]

       *       *       *       *       *

A WHITSUN HOLIDAY.

(_A Page from a Modern Diary._)

_Monday._--Up with the lark. Breakfast not ready. Spent my spare time in
closing the boxes. Got the family into the train with difficulty.
Devoted the day to travelling. Reached our destination tired out. Glad
to get to bed.

_Tuesday._--Up with the lark. Did the sights. Had no time to look at
anything, as I had to attend to the tickets. Saw all the museums. My
party coming out when I had got the catalogues. So managed our visits
that there was no opportunity of discussing meals. Got back in time for
_table d'hôte_, but preferred sleep to food. Went to bed.

_Wednesday._--Up with the lark. Off again travelling. On the road all
day. Having to fit in the corresponding trains, had no leisure for
meals. Arrived at our new resting-place late at night. So off as quickly
as possible to bed.

_Thursday._--Up with the lark. Spent the morning in sight-seeing under
the customary conditions. Waited upon the family. Looked after the
catalogues and umbrellas. Food again at a discount. Dispensed with
dinner. Glad to get to bed.

_Friday._--Up with the lark. Time to return. Back again by a train. No
food. No rest. Halfway home. Arrived in time to see the lights being put
out. Off to bed.

_Saturday._--Up with the lark. Continued my journey post-haste. Wrote up
my diary. Find that I have got over several hundreds of miles; but for
the life of me cannot remember anything that I have seen. Don't
recollect any square meal. Back again, tired, and only pleased to be in
bed.

_Sunday._--Sleeping.

_Monday._--Up with the lark. Recovered from my week's "rest," and glad
to get back again to work.

       *       *       *       *       *

BY A SEA-SICK PASSENGER

      _MARE! Mare_!
      Most contrary,
  Why do you tumble so?
      While you heave and swell
      One can't feel well,
  And--I think I'll go below!

       *       *       *       *       *

MOTTO FOR AMERICAN MILLIONAIRESSES.--

"Marry, come up!"

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Scientific and Nervous Visitor at Country Hotel._ "I
suppose there's no 'ptomaine' in this pie?"

_Waiter_ (_equal to the occasion_). "No, sir. We never puts that in
unless specially ordered!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DARTMOOR WAY.--_Tourist_ (_in background_). "I say!
Percy! We'd better be going now--unless you can see anything striking
from where you are!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SCENE--_Railway Refreshment Room. Thermometer 90° in the
Shade._

_Waiter_ (_to traveller taking tea_). "Beg pardon, sir, I shouldn't
recommend that milk, sir; leastways not for _drinking_ purposes."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: HALCYON PROSPECTS.--_Romantic Bride_ (_ecstatically_).
"Such a waste of waters almost appals me!"

_Prudent Husband_ (_fondly_). "What a dear little economist it is!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Tourist._ "Wasn't there a great battle fought about
here?"

_Village Dame._ "Ah, I do mind it when I were a gell, I do. They
was----"

_Tourist._ "But, my good woman, that was nearly six hundred years ago!"

_Village Dame_ (_unabashed_). "Dear, dear! How time do fly!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "And she only charged eight-and-a-half guineas,
and"--(_Interruption from Husbands._ "Isn't the view marvellous!"

_General chorus in reply._ "Oh--er--_Yes!_")--"and now I simply go there
for everything!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FRENCH AND ENGLISH (_as zey are spoke at ze country
'ouse_).--_Hostess._ "Oh--er--j'espair ker voos avvy troovy
votre--votre--er--er--votre _collar stud_, barrong?"

_M. le Baron._ "Oh, I zank you, yes! I find 'eem on my _chest of
trowsers_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PERAMBULATORS NOT ADMITTED

A DISAPPOINTMENT. [To _perambulate_; v.n., in German, _spazieren_; in
French, _se promener_; in Italian, _passeggiare_.]--_Johann Schmidt._
"Ach! vat a bitty, Mister Chones! Zen ve must not go therein to
berampulate?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Chatty Tourist._ "Beautiful specimen of a Roman camp,
this, isn't it?"

_Grim Stranger._ "_No_, sir, _no_! I decline to admit that there can be
_any_ true beauty about anything _Roman_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TWO LAST WORDS TO SWITZERLAND

(_By a British Tourist and Family Man_)

  On Uri's lake, in Küsnacht's dell,
  What is the thought can almost quell
  Thy patriot memory, oh TELL?
                          _Hotel!_

  Whether by blue crevasse we reel,
  Or list the avalanche's peal,
  What question blends with all we feel?--
                          _Wie Viel?_

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: LUSUS NATURÆ

_Excursion Tourist._ "Most extr'or'nary cre'char!"

_Facetious Rustic._ "Ah! that a be, measter, bred on this 'ere wery
fa-arm he wor, tew!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

MORE ENGLISH AS SHE IS WROTE.--At an hotel at Socrabaja in Java is this
notice:--

"From the hours fixed for meals on no account will be deviated. For
damage to furniture the proprietor will avenge himself on the person
committing the same."

       *       *       *       *       *

"TIRED NATURE."--A yawning gulf.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR BORES, NATIVE AND FOREIGN

"Ach! I schbeague Enklish not vell, not vell at all! Pot, py a leadle
bractice, I imbrove ver kvick! Vait till I haf talk to you for a gopple
of hours, and you shall see!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A SCENE AT THE "LUCULLUS"

_Mrs. Blunderby._ "Now, my dear Monty, let me order the luncheon
ar-la-fraingsy. Gassong! I wish to begin--as we always do in Paris, my
dears--with some _chef-d'oeuvres_--you understand--some
_chef-d'oeuvres_."

    [_Emile, the waiter, is in despair. It occurs to him, however,
    presently that the lady probably meant "Hors d'oeuvres,"
    and acts accordingly._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

TO A WELSH LADY

(_Written at Clovelly_)

  The reason why I leave unsung
  Your praises in the Cymric tongue
      You know, sweet Nelly;
  You recollect your poet's crime--
  How, when he tried to sing "the time,"
  He made "the place" and "loved one" rhyme,
      You and Dolgelly!

  But now, although a shocking dunce,
  I've learnt, in part, the Welsh pronunc-
      iation deathly.
  I dream of you in this sweet spot,
  And for your sake I call it what
  Its own inhabitants do not--
      That is "Clovethly"!

       *       *       *       *       *

AT WHITBY.--_Visitor_ (_to Ancient Mariner, who has been relating his
experiences to crowd of admirers_). Then do you mean to tell us that you
actually reached the North Pole?

_Ancient Mariner._ No, sir; that would be a perwersion of the truth. But
I seed it a-stickin' up among the ice just as plain as you can this
spar, which I plants in the sand. It makes me thirsty to think of that
marvellous sight, we being as it were parched wi' cold.

    [_A. M.'s distress promptly relieved by audience._

       *       *       *       *       *

THE WALKING ENGLISHWOMAN ON THE ALPS

[Illustration]

  You who look at home so charming--
    Angel, goddess, nothing less--
  Do you know you're quite alarming
          In that dress?

  Such a garb should be forbidden;
    Where's the grace an artist loves?
  Think of dainty fingers hidden
          In those gloves!

  Gloves! A housemaid would not wear them,
    Shapeless, brown and rough as sacks,
  Thick! And yet you often tear them
          With that axe!

  Worst of all, unblacked, unshiny--
    Greet them with derisive hoots--
  Clumsy, huge! For feet so tiny!
          Oh, those boots!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SCENE--_Verandah of Swiss Hotel_

_Brown_ (_finishing very lengthy account of Alpine adventure_).

"And then, Miss Jones, then, just as dawn was breaking, I heard the
voices of the guides above me, and I knew that I was saved--actually
saved! My feelings, as I realised this, may be more easily imagined than
described!"

_Miss Jones_ (_fervently_). "Thank Heaven!"

    [_And Brown fondly imagined she was alluding to his escape_.

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: CAUTIOUS

_Visitor_ (_at out-of-the-way Inn in the North_). "Do you know anything
about salmon-poaching in the neighbourhood?"

_Landlady_ (_whose son is not above suspicion_). "Eh--no, sir. Maybe
it's a new style of cooking as we haven't heard of in these parts, as
you see, sir, we only do our eggs that way; and"--(_brightening
up_)--"if you like 'em, I can get you a dish at once!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SEVEN AGES OF LUGGAGE

_Baby._ Perambulator, bottle, robe, fingerless gloves and woollen shoes.

_Schoolboy._ Bat, ball, and aids to education.

_Lover._ Guitar, music-book, writing materials, and fur-lined overcoat.

_Justice._ Capon in basket, robes, and treatise upon ancient saws and
modern instances.

_Soldier._ Sword, uniform case, standard work upon Reputation.

_Pantaloon._ Sausages, property red-hot poker, costume of motley,
slippers and spectacle case.

_Veteran._ Travels without luggage.

       *       *       *       *       *

A GREAT TRAVELLER.--Dr. Watts was evidently in the habit of making
pedestrian excursions on the Continent, for in one of his noblest lines,
he expressly says--

     "Whene'er I take my walks abroad."

       *       *       *       *       *

INNOCENT ABROAD.--You are misled in your view that the _Cours de
Cuisine_, mentioned in the prospectus of a French school, means the run
of the kitchen.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: IN THE SWISS HIGHLANDS.--_Brown._ "This is rather a
pretty figure. You start on the left foot, cut a drop three--then----"
(_Bump_)

_Little Girl_ (_unmoved_). "Oh, _that's_ why it's called a drop three,
Mr. Brown!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Photographer_ (_on tour, absent-mindedly_). "Now smile,
please!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

AT THE CELESTIAL RESTAURANT.--_Customer_ (_indignantly_). Hi! waiter,
what do you call this soup?

_Waiter_ (_meekly_). I not know, sir, but ze padrone tell me to describe
'im Cockstail!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Traveller_ (_snap-shotting tropical river, suddenly
confronted by hippopotamus_). "Just keep like that one moment, please!"
(_Rapturously_) "Such a delightful expression!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

NOTE BY OUR TRAVELLER--At a station on the Elham Valley Line, "Kentish
Pianos" are advertised. Are these adapted for playing only dance tunes,
and therefore specially serviceable in a "Hop" county?

       *       *       *       *       *

EASTER HOLIDAYS

(_By One who has tried them_)

Must really decide where to go for five or six days at Easter. Weather
always awful. Usual Springtime. North-east wind, frost, snow and dust.
Something like last week. Can't stop in London. One Sunday or Bank
Holiday in London mournful enough. But four of them consecutively!
Impossible!

Innocent persons go to the south coast of England, thinking that fifty
miles nearer the equator one is in quite a different climate.
Bournemouth? Bosh! All sandy dust and depressing invalids. Torquay?
Twaddle! Probably rain all the time, if not snow. England no good.
Scotland or Ireland? Worse!

Must go, as people say vaguely, "abroad." How about Paris? North-east
wind, frost, snow and dust, worse than here. Streets windy, theatres
draughty, cafés and restaurants suffocating. Brussels? Nothing but rain.
Aix-les-Bains? Probably snow. Nice? That might do. No frost or snow,
but very likely a north-east wind and certainly lots of dust. Besides,
thirty hours' journey out and thirty hours' journey back, would only
leave about sixty hours there. No good. Rome, Seville, Constantinople,
Cairo? Still farther. Should have to leave on the return journey before
I arrived. Where can I go to at Easter to be warm and comfortable,
without so much trouble? I know. To bed!

       *       *       *       *       *

REGARDLESS OF THE TEMPERATURE.--_Facetious Australian_ (_off Calshot
Castle, to indisposed friend_). What arm of the sea reminds one of a
borrowed boot?

_The "I. F."_ (_feebly_). Give it--anything--up.

_F. A._ Why, the _Sole-lent_, to be sure.

    [_The "I. F." is promptly carried below._

       *       *       *       *       *

AT BATH.--_Wiffling_ (_sympathetically_). Here on account of the waters?

_Piffling._ No, unhappily. Here on account of the whiskies.

       *       *       *       *       *

"A QUESTION OF THE HOUR."--Asking a railway porter the time of the next
train's departure for your holiday resort.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Scene--_The Summit of Vesuvius_

_American Tourist_ (_to the world at large_). "Great snakes, it reminds
me of hell!"

_English Tourist._ "My dear, how these Americans _do_ travel!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Friend_ (_below_). "All you've got to do when I throw
you the rope is to make it fast to that projection over your head, and
lower yourself down!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "THE CHURCH-GOING BELL"

Sunday morning, coast of Norway. (_By our Yachting Artist._)]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Parson._ "Yes, on one occasion I married four couples in
a quarter of an hour. Quick work, wasn't it?"

_Nautical Young Lady._ "Yes, rather! Sixteen knots an hour!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TO MY AIRSHIP

     [_The poet is being piloted on his aerial flight by a prosaic
     mechanician. It is to the latter that the interpolations are due._]

  Thou elfin Puck, thou child of master mind!
  (Look out! the ballast's slipping off behind.)
  Thou swanlike Siren of the blue sublime!
  (Screw up that nut, and never mind the rhyme.)

  Thine 'tis to fathom Æther's highest pole!
  (This wind will fairly get us in a hole.)
  Thine to explore the azure-vaulted dome!
  (I wonder how the deuce we're going home.)

  Up, up, thou speedest, flaunting, flaunting high,
  Thy glist'ring frame emblazon'd 'gainst the sky;
  And myriad-minded fancies still pursue
  Thy gliding--(Blow! the anchor's fouled the screw!)

  Thou stormy petrel, kissing heaven's height,
  (Petrol! The rotten stuff declines to light)
  Onward thou soarest o'er the City's dust
  Shimmering, triumphant. (Gad! The motor's bust!)

       *       *       *       *       *

_Q._ Give the French for "a policeman's beat." _A._ _Un tour de Force._

       *       *       *       *       *

_Q._ What is the difference between a traveller and a popular vegetable?

_A._ One has been abroad and the other's a broad bean.

    [_Exit Querier rapidly._

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE AMERICAN RUSH.--_American Tourist._ "Say, how long
will it take to see over the ruins?"

_Caretaker._ "About an hour, sir."

_American Tourist._ "And how long will it take you to tell us about
it?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "Is this your favourite view, poppa darling?"

"Why, certainly. But--ahem!--I prefer it _unframed_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: COLD COMFORT.--_Visitor to the West Indies_ (_who has
been warned against bathing in the river because of alligators, but has
been told by the boatman that there are none at the river's mouth_). "By
jove, this is ripping! But, I say, how do you know there are no
alligators here?"

_Boatman._ "Well, you see, sah, de alligator am so turr'ble feared ob de
shark!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

OVER THE SEA.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I read that two new cures for sea sickness have just
been discovered: the one the eating of bananas; the other, found out by
Professor Heinz, of Erlangen, who declares that the malady proceeds from
the lobe of the brain, and that to avert it one has only to breathe
freely. As to the Professor's theory about breathing freely, I can
safely assert that I never open my mouth so wide as when crossing the
Channel, but the experiment is an unpleasant failure.

  Your obedient servant,

  DIONYSIUS DABELRISK.

  _Peckham Rye._

       *       *       *       *       *

AT THE GRAND HOTEL, PARIS.--_Blithers_ (_of romantic turn of mind, to
Smithers, after observing a young couple in close conversation in the
court yard_). I'm sure they're engaged. I heard her call him Harry!

_Smithers_ (_a matter-of-fact man_). What of that? I call my housemaid
Emily! He's most probably her footman.

    [_Smithers calls for absinthe._

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WELL MEANT, BUT----. _Motorist_ (_with heated
cylinders_). "Where can I get some water?"

_Rustic._ "There beant noo watter hereaboots--but ye can have a sup at
my tea!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A difficult pass]

[Illustration: A kneesy climb]

[Illustration: A smiling valley]

[Illustration: A magnificent gorge]

       *       *       *       *       *

BY THE SILVER SEA.--_Seaside. Tripper--none too clean in
appearance--charters bathing machine. Smart-looking schoolboy_ (_about
to enter next machine_), _loq._ I say, ma, I wish that dirty fellow
wouldn't bathe here.

_Mamma._ Why, Tommy? If people of that sort were to bathe, they'd be as
clean as you, you know.

_Tommy_ (_eyeing Tripper closely_). Not in once, mamma!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AN APPRECIATION

(_Train entering Venice_)

_Fair American._ "Waal, I guess this is where the Adriatic slops over!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

SUMMER RESORTS

DREARDON-CUM-SLOOZE.

Spring weather, in pleasing variety of sun and snow-shower, now prevails
in this highly fla--favoured locality. Mr. Josiah Jorker, Chairman of
the Rural District Council here, has bought four black Berkshire pigs,
and to lean over the yard gate and inspect them is now a regular
afternoon occupation. Discussion as to their merits runs high amongst
our local magnates. Situate as this health-giving village is, it offers
to the tired brain-worker complete rest, as there is no railway station
within six miles, and only the day-before-yesterday's newspaper is
obtainable.

CHAWBOODLECUM.

A fine bracing N.E. wind has dried the roads, and, amongst the aged and
sick, made a clearance, thoroughly in accord with the "survival of the
fittest" doctrine. Trade has never been more brisk with the local
undertaker and the much-respected sexton. The cricket club opens its
season to-day with a match against the neighbouring village of Sludgely.
A "Sing-Song," or "Free and Easy," is held every Saturday night at the
"Pig and Puppy-Dog," at which well-known hostelry visitors can find
every accommodation.

SLACKINGTON.

In this genial and mild air, where a steady, gentle rain falls on very
nearly every day in the year, the Londoner, fleeing from the trying east
winds of Spring, may find a welcome refuge. It is quite a pretty sight
on Sundays to watch the people with their different coloured waterproofs
stream out of church. There is a rumour that the present supply of cabs
will shortly be augmented by one, if not two, fresh vehicles. On Monday
last a German band played a charming selection of music in the market
place, and there was a dog-fight in the High Street.

PORKBURY.

This charming spot only requires to be known, to insure plenty of
patronage from visitors. The new pump is being pushed forward rapidly,
and the Vicar intends to hold jumble sales once a week throughout the
summer. This, in itself, will, it is expected, prove a great attraction.

Police-Constable Slummers, whose urbanity and great consideration for
the inhabitants (especially on Saturday nights) have always been so
conspicuous, is about to leave, and some of the more prominent townsmen
have taken the opportunity of marking their sense of his valuable
services by presenting him with a handsome pewter pot, engraved with his
name and the date.

A piano-organist now regularly attends the weekly market, and his music
is greatly appreciated by those engaged in buying and selling.

At the Farmer's Eighteenpenny Ordinary, last week, Mr. Chumpjaw stated
that his mangolds were "the whackin'est big 'uns" grown in the county.

       *       *       *       *       *

AT BOULOGNE.--_Mrs. Sweetly_ (_on her honeymoon_). Isn't it funny,
Archibald, to see so many foreigners about? And all talking French!

       *       *       *       *       *

PATRON SAINT OF MESSRS. COOK.--St. Martin of "Tours."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Englishman_ (_to friend_). "There goes that awful liar,
who says he has climbed everything under the sun."

_Friend._ "Don't call him a liar. Rather say he has a great talent for
exaggerating things that never happened."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A PLEASANT UNCERTAINTY.--_Gigantic Guide._ "Ze last party
zat was 'ere--no one knew whezzer zey _shumped_ over or was _thrown_
over!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A SLIGHT "MALONGTONGDEW"

_Angelina._ "There are to be illuminations and fireworks, and they're to
finish up with an 'ombrasmong général.' What can that be?"

_Edwin._ "Well, 'ombasser' means to 'kiss'; so I suppose it means a kind
of a sort of a general kissing all round."

_Angelina._ "Horrid idea! I won't go near the place, and I'm sure you
shan't, Edwin!"

    [Our readers, who know French better than E. and A., are aware that
    embrasement, with only one "s," has a totally different meaning.

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: HONEYMOONING IN PARIS.--_Mrs. Jones._ "Am I not an
expensive little wifie?"

_Jones_ (_who has spent the morning and a small fortune at the Magasin
du Louvre_). "Well, you _are_ a little dear!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: QUID PRO QUO.--_Madame Gaminot._ "Oh yes, Monsieur Jones,
J'_adore_ les Anglais! Zey understand bisnesse! For example, zey pay me
sixty pound--fifteen 'undred franc--to sing 'La Blanchisseuse du
Tambour-Major' at a evening party! It seem a great deal! But zey laugh,
and zey say, 'Oh, sharmong! Oh, ravissong!' and it mek everybody sink
zat everybody else know French--it almost mek zem sink zat zey know it
zemselfs!!! Ça vaut bien quinze cents francs, j'espère!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Tourist_ (_at small Irish inn, miles from anywhere_).
"Look here, what does this mean? I left my boots out last night, and
they haven't been touched."

_Landlord_ (_with honest pride_). "Thrue for ye, sorr! An' begorr', if
ye'd left your _gowld watch an' chain_ out, div'l a sowl wud 'a touched
them nayther!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: 'ARRY ABROAD.--_Guide._ "Monsieur finds eet a vairy
eenteresting old place, ees eet not?" _'Arry_ (_who will speak French_).
"Pas demi!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

BY THE SILVER SEA

DRAINSMOUTH.

This popular health resort is now filled to over-flowing. The
entertainments on the pier include animated photographs of a procession
to the Woking Crematorium, and other cheerful and interesting subjects.
The smells of the harbour may still be enjoyed to perfection at low
water.

SHRIMPLEY.

The question of mixed bathing here has at length been set at rest by the
Town Council issuing an order that nobody is to bathe at all. A decision
so impartial as between the rival factions cannot fail to give
satisfaction to all except the captious. Professor De Bach, with his
performing dogs, gives an exhibition twice each day at the Pier
Pavilion.

LODGINGTON-ON-SEA.

Warm and sunny weather still continues in this favoured spot. People
wait half the morning for a bathing-machine and then look rather
disappointed when they get it. The Simperton-Swaggeringtons arrived
yesterday, travelling first-class from the junction, two miles off (up
to which point they had come third). This has excited some unfavourable
comment in the town.

SMELLINGTON-SUPER-MARE.

Large numbers of tripp--visitors, I mean, continue to pour into the town
from Saturdays to Mondays, benefiting greatly by their small change. The
lodging-house keepers also derive considerable benefit from their (the
visitors') small change, especially when left lying about on the
mantelpiece. No one could complain of dulness here now, for as I write,
twenty-three barrel-organs, eleven troupes of nigger minstrels and four
blind beggars with fiddles are amusing and delighting their listeners on
the sands. The place is thoroughly lively, hardly an hour of the day
passing without at least two street rows between inebriated
excursionists taking place. The police force has been doubled, and the
magistrates have given notice that, for the future, they will give no
"option," and that all sentences for assaults in the streets will be
with hard labour.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PHILOLOGICAL.--_First English Groom_ (_new to Paris_).
"And the French gent as he drives round the corner, he pulls up quick,
and calls out 'Woa!'"

_Second ditto_ (_who has been in Paris some time_). "He couldn't have
said _'Woa!'_ as there ain't no 'W' in French."

_First ditto._ "No 'W' in French? Then 'ow d'yer spell 'wee'?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Alarming appearance of a harmless guana just as he has
found a nice corner of Sydney Harbour for a sketch.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Mr. Townmouse takes lodgings for his family at a
farmhouse in a remote district. Delightful spot; but they weren't so
well off for butcher's meat as they could wish.

_Farmer._ "Now, if your lady 'ud like some nice pork--Oh! she does like
pork?--Well, then, we shall kill a pig the week arter next."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A NICE PROSPECT.--_Traveller_ (_benighted in the Black
Country_). "Not a bed-room disengaged! Tut-t-t-t!"

_Landlady_ (_who is evidently in the coal business as well_). "Oh, we'll
accommodate you somehow, sir, if me and my 'usband gives you up our own
bed, sir!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.--_Professor
Chatterleigh._ "By George! I'm so hungry I can't _talk!_"

_Fair Hostess_ (_on hospitable thoughts intent_). "Oh, I'm _so_ glad!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ÆSTHETICS

_Indiscreet Sister._ "Why, Harry, your legs are getting more
_Chippendale_ than ever!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE JOYS OF TOURING

_Traveller._ "I say, your razor's pulling most confoundedly!"

_Local Torturer._ "Be it, zur? Wull, 'old on tight to the chair, an'
we'll get it off zummow!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: CHEERING.--_First Artist_ (_on a pedestrian tour_). "Can
you tell which is the best inn in Baconhurst?"

_Rustic_ (_bewildered_). "Dunno."

_Second Artist_ (_tired_). "But we can get beds there, I suppose? Where
do travellers generally go?"

_Rustic._ "Go to the union moostly!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MIND AND MATTER-OF-FACT

_Cotton-Man_ (_fro' Shoddydale_). "What dun yo' co' that wayter?"

_Coachman._ "Ah, ain't it beautiful? That's Grassmere Lake, that is----"

_Cotton-Man._ "Yo' co'n 'um all la-akes an' meres i' these pa-arts. We
co'n 'um rezzer-voyers where ah com' fro'!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

Would the epigrammatic translation of "_sede vacanti_" as "Not well and
gone away for a holiday" be accepted by an examiner?

       *       *       *       *       *

WINTER RESORT FOR BRONCHIALLY-AFFECTED PERSONS.--Corfe Castle.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Visitor._ "And so you've never been to London! Oh, but
you must go. It's quite an easy journey, you know."

_Gaffer Stokes._ "Ah, Oi'd main loike to see Lunnon, Oi wud. Reckon Oi
must go afore Oi'm done for. _Now which moight be their busy day there,_
mister?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TO INTENDING TOURISTS--"Where shall we go?" All depends on the "coin of
'vantage." Switzerland? Question of money. Motto.--_"Point d'argent
point de Suisse."_

       *       *       *       *       *

SCENE--_On the Quay. Ocean liner's syren fog-horn emitting short,
sharp grunts._

_Little Girl._ Oh, mamma, that _poor_ ship must have a drefful pain in
its cabin!

       *       *       *       *       *

WASTED SYMPATHY.--SCENE--_Interior of Railway Carriage. Lady_ (_to
gentleman who has just entered and is placing one of his fellow
passenger's bags on the floor where there is a hot-water bottle_). Oh!
Excuse me, sir, but, _please_ don't put _that_ near the hot-water
bottle. I've got a little bird in the bag.

_Elderly Gentleman_ (_who is an enthusiastic Anti-Vivisectionist and
prominent member of the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals_).
Good Heavens, madam! a bird in there! Please consider! How cruel! how
inhuman! how----(_gasps for words_).

_Lady._ Not at all, my dear sir. _It's a roast partridge, cold, for
lunch._

    [_Collapse of Enthusiast._

       *       *       *       *       *

UNPLEASANTLY SUGGESTIVE NAMES OF "CURE" PLACES ABROAD.--_Bad Gastein._
Which must be worse than the first day's sniff at Bad-Eggs-la-Chapelle.

       *       *       *       *       *

ROTATORY KNIFE (AND FORK) MACHINES.--Pullman dining cars.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE LINE WHICH IS OFTEN DRAWN.--The Equator.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THOROUGH BUT NOT PEDANTIC. (_Overheard at the
Louvre._)--_American Tourist_ (_suspiciously_). "Say, guide, haven't we
seen this room before?"

_Guide._ "Oh no, monsieur."

_Tourist._ "Well, see here. We want to see everything, but we don't want
to see anything twice!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS.--_Captain Brown_ (_narrating his
trip to the Continent_). "Then, of course, we ran down to Granada, and
saw the Alhambra----"

_Captain Jinks_ (_untravelled athlete_). "No!! What, have they got one
there too!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FILIAL ANXIETY. "Going to Paris to-morrow, Tom!"

"How's that?"

"My poor old governor's taken ill there!"

"Going by Dieppe or Boulogne?"

"Rather think I shall go _via Monaco_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OVERDOING IT

_Sympathiser._ "Sorry you look so seedy after your holiday, old chap!"

_Too Energetic Sight-seer._ "Well, I am a bit done up, but the doctor
says that with rest and great care I may be well enough to have a
run-round as usual next year."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Gushing Young Lady_ (_to Mr. Dunk, who has just returned
from Rome_). "They say, Mr. Dunk, that when one sets foot in Rome for
the first time, one experiences a profound feeling of awe. The chaos of
ruined grandeur, the magnificent associations, seem too much for one to
grasp. Tell me, oh tell me, Mr. Dunk, what did _you_ think of it all?"

_Mr. Dunk_ (_deliberately, after considering awhile_). "_Very_ nice!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "Carry your trunk, sir?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE.--_Miss Tomboy._ Mamma, I think those French women
were beastly rude.

_Mother._ You mustn't speak like that of those ladies, it's very wrong.
And how often have I told you not to say "beastly"?

_Miss Tomboy._ Well, they _were_ rude. They called me a little cabbage
(_mon petit chou_). The next time they do that I shall call them old
French beans.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE TOURIST SEASON. HOTEL BRIGANDAGE]

       *       *       *       *       *

DE GUSTIBUS----

  I am an unadventurous man,
  And always go upon the plan
  Of shunning danger where I can.

  And so I fail to understand
  Why every year a stalwart band
  Of tourists go to Switzerland,

  And spend their time for several weeks,
  With quaking hearts and pallid cheeks,
  Scaling abrupt and windy peaks.

  In fact, I'm old enough to find
  Climbing of almost any kind
  Is very little to my mind.

  A mountain summit white with snow
  Is an attractive sight, I know,
  But why not see it _from below_?

  Why leave the hospitable plain
  And scale Mont Blanc with toil and pain
  Merely to scramble down again?

  Some men pretend they think it bliss
  To clamber up a precipice
  Or dangle over an abyss,

  To crawl along a mountain side,
  Supported by a rope that's tied,
  --Not too securely--to a guide;

  But such pretences, it is clear,
  In the aspiring mountaineer
  Are usually insincere.

  And many a climber, I'll be bound,
  Whom scarped and icy crags surround,
  Wishes himself on level ground.

  So I, for one, do not propose,
  To cool my comfortable toes
  In regions of perpetual snows,

  As long as I can take my ease,
  Fanned by a soothing southern breeze,
  Under the shade of English trees.

  And anyone who leaves my share
  Of English fields and English air
  May take the Alps for aught I care!

       *       *       *       *       *

SPORT MOST APPROPRIATE TO THE LOCALITY.--Shooting pigeons at Monte
Carlo.

       *       *       *       *       *

PLEASURE À LA RUSSE.--_Q._ When does a Russian give a Polish peasant a
holiday?

_A._ When he gives him _a kn_outing.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE CRY OF THE HOLIDAY-LOVING CLERK.--"Easterward Ho!"

       *       *       *       *       *

A DISH THAT DISAGREES WITH MOST PERSONS WHEN TRAVELLING.--The Chops of
the Channel.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE GREATEST BORE IN CREATION.--The Simplon Tunnel.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: The Brown family resolve to spend their vacation each
after his own fashion, instead of _en famille_.

Jack took his motor car of course.

Maud and Ethel started on a Biking Tour.

Pater preferred "Cooks".

"My Dear Sir, I tell you there is not a city in the whole of Europe that
is a patch upon Florence. Why I found the finest English chemists there
that I have come across in all my travels."

Mater had "quiet time" in Devonshire.

Bob went canoeing.

While Mary Ann says 'Give me good ole Margit'.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE ANTIQUARY.--_Tourist_ (_in Cornwall_). "May I be
permitted to examine that interesting stone in your field? These ancient
Druidical remains are most interesting!"

_Farmer._ "Sart'nly, sir. 'May be very int'restin' an' arnshunt, but we
do stick 'em oup for the cattle, an' call 'em roubbin' pusts!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Smithson, having read and heard much of the pleasures of
a driving tour, determines to indulge in that luxury during his
Whitsuntide holidays. He therefore engages a trap, with a horse that can
"get over the ground," and securing the services of an experienced
driver, he sets forth._

_Smithson._ "A--a--isn't he--a--a--hadn't I better help you to pull at
him?"

_Driver._ "Pull at 'im? Why yer'd set 'im crazed! Jist you let me keep
is 'ead straight. Lor' bless yer, there ain't no cause to be affeared,
as long as we don't meet nothing, and the gates ain't shut at
Splinterbone crossing, jist round the bend."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Stout Party._ "Is this path safe?"

_Flippant Youth._ "Yes, the path is--but I can't answer for _you_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "Will you 'urry up paintin' that tree, sir? Cause I'm
goin' to cut it down in a quarter of an hour."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Tourist_ (_in search of "the unique," after admiring old
cottage_). "Is there anything else to look at in the village?"

_Village Dame._ "Lor' bless 'ee, why there's the beautiful new
recr'ation ground as we've just 'ad made!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A PASTORAL REBUKE.--_First Pedestrian_ (_they've lost
their way_), "Look here. This must be the east, mustn't it? There's the
chancel window--that's always east; then the south must be----"

_High-Church Priest_ (_"turning up" suddenly out of the vestry_), "I beg
your pardon, gentlemen, but I can't allow my church to be used for a
secular purpose. You'll find an unconsecrated weathercock on the barn
yonder!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Visitor._ "Will you tell me where I shall find a seat?"

_Verger._ "Weel, sir, there's a guid wheen veesitors in Inverness the
noo: so sit whaur ye can see yer umbrella!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TIPS FOR TRAVELLERS

Toddlekins is anxious to take his family to Mars this summer, and
inquires where he can hire a speedy balloon for the purpose. He is
anxious to know whether he can obtain golf there, and also whether the
roads are good for bicycling. He is recommended to apply for information
to the Astronomer-Royal. But why should Toddlekins trouble to go so far
afield? He would be sure to find congenial society in the neighbourhood
of Hanwell, and by selecting this spot as his destination, the expense
of a return ticket would be saved.

ANXIOUS MOTHER.--So glad that you intend taking your dear ten children
to Poppleton-on-Sea for three weeks' change of air. And all that you
tell me about Timothy's pet rabbit and Selina's last attack of measles
is so deeply interesting. Unfortunately I cannot answer all your
questions myself, but I will print them here, so that some of my kind
readers may be able to assist you. You want to know, in regard to
Poppleton--

(1) Whether the pavements (if any) are stone or asphalte.

(2) What is the mean temperature, the annual rain-fall, and the
death-rate.

(3) What are the Rector's "views," and if there is a comfortable pew in
the church, out of draughts, calculated to hold eleven.

(4) What time the shops at Poppleton close on Saturdays.

DUBIOUS.--As you say, it _is_ difficult to make up one's mind where to
spend the holidays, because there are so many places from which to
choose. And you were so wise to write and ask me to give you the name of
one single place which I could thoroughly recommend, and so save you all
further worry. How about Brighton, Hastings, Eastbourne, Bexhill,
Seaford, Cowes, Weymouth, Exmouth, Penzance, Lynton, or Tenby? I am
delighted to give you this real and valuable help!

PICNIC-PARTY.--You have my full sympathy. It is most churlish of
riparian owners to refuse to allow strangers to land on their property.
Fancy any one objecting to having his lawn covered with broken bottles
and paper bags!

OWNER.--I feel deeply for you. The way in which trippers on the river
invade riverside gardens is outrageous. The bags and pieces of glass
they leave about must be a gross disfigurement to your lawn.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INTRODUCTION MADE EASY.--_Invalid-Chair Attendant._ "If
you should have a fancy for any partickler party, I can easily bump
'em."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Miss Binns_ (_breathless, hurrying to catch London train
after week-end trip_). "Can you please tell me the _exact_ time?"

_Old Salt._ "'Alf ebb."]

       *       *       *       *       *

A MOUNTAIN RAMBLER

(_By a Returned Traveller_)

  I've scanned and penned an Ode on
  Thy snowy glories, Snowdon
  My honeymoon with Helen,
  Was spent near "dark" Helvellyn,
  Afar from all the _beau monde_
  I've rambled round Ben Lomond,
  At noontide on Ben Nevis,
  I've roved and read _Sir Bevis_,
  I've stretched each tired thin limb on
  Thy summit, O Plinlimmon,
  And once I tore my breeks
  On Macgillycuddy's Reeks.
    Those glorious mountain scalps,
  The tiptops of the Alps,
  I've seen--their pines and passes,
  Their glaciers and crevasses--
  With fools, philosophers and wits,
  I've scrambled up the Ortler Spitz,
  Made sketches on St. Gothard,
  Like Turner and like Stothard,
  And with my _cara sposa_
  Ascended Monte Rosa:
  But not content with Europe,
  I've roamed with staff and new rope
  As far away as Ararat,
  Where _savants_ say there's ne'er a rat;
  The Kuen Lun and Thian Shan
  I know as well as any man;
  I've boiled my evening kettle
  On Popocatapetl,
  And on the highest Andes
  I've sodas mixed and brandies;
  I've slumbered snug and cosey
  On silvery Potosi;
  I've stood on Peter Botto,
  A rather lonely spot;
  And--crowning feat of all
  My mountaineerings on this ball--
  I've smoked--O weed for ever blest!
  My pipe upon Mount Everest.
    And now my ramble's over,
  Here's Shakspeare's Cliff and Dover!
  All Alpine risks and chances,
  All Ultramontane fancies,
  I've put away and done with;
  I'll stay my wife and son with,
  And never more will roam
  From Primrose Hill and home.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE FESTIVE SEASON.--_Visitor to the District_ (_who has
missed his way_). "Can you tell me, my good man, if I shall pass the
'Red Lion' inn along this road?"

_The Village Toper._ "Oi wouldn't like to be saying wut a gen'leman
loike ye wud be doin'; but Oi'm parfect sartin Oi shouldn't!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: QUEEN'S HOTEL, AMBLESIDE, 3 O'CLOCK, A.M.--"Tom!" (_No
response._) "I say, Tom!" (_No answer._) "Tom!" (_A muffled grunt._)
"Tom--Fire!"

"Eh? What? What do you say?"

"I say Tom, do you think your key will fit my bag?"

"_No_--'t won't--Chubb!"

    [_Objurgations, and midnight disturber retires._

]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR COMPATRIOTS ABROAD.--"And how did you like
Switzerland?"

"Oh, immensely! It was our first visit, you know!"

"And did you go on into Italy?"

"Well, no. We found a hotel at Lausanne where there was a first-rate
tennis-lawn, you know--quite as good as ours at home. So we spent the
whole of our holiday there, and played lawn-tennis all day long."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AGGRAVATING FLIPPANCY

_The Professor_ (_who has just come back from the North Pole)._ "----
and the fauna of these inhospitable regions is as poor as the flora! You
couldn't name a dozen animals who manage to live there."

_Mrs. Malapert._ "Oh--I dare say I could!"

_The Professor._ "Really--what _are_ they?"

_Mrs. Malapert._ "Well, now--five polar bears, let us say, and--and
seven seals!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _First Traveller._ "Can we have beds here to-night?"

_Obliging Hostess._ "Oh, yes, sir."

_First Traveller._ "Have you--er--any--er--_insects_ in this house?"

_Obliging Hostess._ "No, sir. _But we can get you some!"_]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Lady_ (_to her travelling companion, who has just had
his finger-nail pinched badly_). "How horrid! I always think anything
wrong with one's nails sets one's teeth on edge all down one's back!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: NEARING THE ENGLISH COAST

_Jones._ (_Returning to England_). "We are quite fifty miles from the
Scilly Isles, Miss Brown. They say the odour of the flowers they
cultivate there travels that distance over the sea. I can detect it
distinctly now--can't you?"

_Miss Brown_ (_from America_). "I guess it hasn't _quite_ reached me
yet, Mr. Jones!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ON A CERTAIN CONDESCENSION IN FOREIGNERS.--_He._ "Oh,
you're from America, are you? People often say to me, 'Don't you dislike
Americans?' But I always say 'I believe there are some very nice ones
among them.'"

_She._ "Ah, I dare say there _may_ be two or three nice people amongst
millions!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR COUNTRYMEN ABROAD.--_Mr. Shoddy._ "_I_ always say,
Mrs. Sharp, that I never feel really safe from the ubiquitous British
snob till I am south of the Danube!"

_Mrs. Sharp_ (_innocently_). "And what do the--a--_South Danubians_ say,
Mr. Shoddy?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Waiter._ "Did you ring, Sir?"

_Traveller_ (_as a gentle hint to previous arrival_). "_Another fire_,
waiter!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Mr. Smith._ "Oh, I was wondering whether you and your
husband would care to accompany our party to Hadrian's Villa to-morrow?"

_Young American Bride._ "Why, yes; we'd just love to go. George and I
will be furnishing as soon as we get back to Noo York, and maybe we'd be
able to pick up a few notions over at this villa."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: UNANSWERABLE

_Pompous Magnate_ (_making speech at public luncheon in provincial
town_). "Speaking of travel reminds me how greatly I have admired the
scenery round Lake Geneva, and also what pleasant times I have spent in
the neighbourhood of Lake Leman."

_Cultured Neighbour_ (_in audible whisper_). "Pardon me, but the two
places are synonymous."

_P. M._ (_patronisingly_). "Ah! So _you_ may think, sir--so _you_ may
think! But, from my point of view, I consider Lake Geneva to be far the
most synonymous of the two."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "IT'S AN ILL WIND," &c.--"Oh, papa! what _do_ you think?
Four out of our twelve boxes are missing."

"Hurrah! By George! that's the best piece of news I've had for a long
time."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AN EPICURE.--"Oh, George, I'm ashamed of you--rubbing
your lips like that, after that dear little French girl has given you a
kiss!"

"I'm not rubbing it _out_, mammy--I'm rubbing it _in_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

A COWES WEEK EXPERIENCE

_Monday._--Dear old Bluewater--what a good fellow he is!--asks me to
join his yacht, the _Sudden Jerk_, for Cowes week. Never been yachting
before.

_Tuesday._--Arrive Ryde Pier, correctly (I hope) "got up"; blue serge,
large brass anchor buttons, and peaked cap. Fancy Bluewater rather
surprised to see how _au fait_ I am at nautical dress. "Ah! my dear
fellow, delighted to see you. Come along; the gig is lying alongside the
steps. One of the hands" (why "hands"?) "shall look to your traps." We
scramble into gig and are rowed out to 50-ton yawl. Climb up side.
Bluewater says, "Come below. Take care--two steps down, then turn round
and---- Oh! by Jove! what a crack you've caught your head. Never mind,
old boy, you'll soon get accustomed to it." Devoutly hope I shall _not_
get accustomed to knocking my head. Arrive at foot of "companion" (why
"companion"?) stairs. Bluewater pulls aside curtains and says, "_There_
you are!" Reply, "Oh! yes, there I am. Er--is--do you lie on the
shelf--oh! berth, is it!--beg pardon--or underneath it?" He explains.
"You'll find it very jolly, you know; you can lie in your bunk, and look
right up the companion to the sky above." "Oh! awfully jolly," I say.
We repair on deck. Get under weigh to run down to Cowes. Dear old
Bluewater very active. Pulls at ropes and things, shouting
"leggo-your-spinach-and-broom,"[A] and other unintelligible war-cries.
Stagger across deck. Breeze very fresh. "Lee oh!" shouts Bluewater;
"mind the broom!"--or it might have been boom--and next moment am
knocked flat on my back by enormous pole.

Arrive Cowes. Crowd of yachts. Drop anchor for night. Go below, damp
face in tiny iron basin; yacht lurches and rolls all the water out over
new white shoes. Enter saloon, tripping over some one's kit-bag at the
door. Try to save myself by clutching at swing-table, which upsets and
empties soup tureen all over my trousers. Retire, change, return. Host
and I sit down and proceed to chase fried soles backwards and forwards
across treacherous swing-table. "_Now_, my dear fellow isn't this
jolly? Isn't this worth all your club dinners?" Reply "Oh, yes,"
enthusiastically. Privately, should prefer club in London. Weather gets
worse. Try to smoke. Don't seem to care for smoking, somehow. Feel
depressed, and ask dear old Bluewater to describe a sailor's grave.
Tries to cheer me up by saying, "Don't waste the precious moments, my
friend, on such sad subjects. You are not born to fill a seaman's grave.
There's a class of man not born to be drowned, you know." Then he laughs
heartily. Try to smile; fail. Pitching and rocking motion increases.
Retire early and lie down on shelf. Fall off twice. Manage to reach
perch again. Weather gets worse. Shall never sleep with noise of
trampling on deck and waves washing yacht's sides. Shall never----
Sudden misgiving. _Am_ I going to be----? Oh! no, must be passing
dizziness. It cannot possibly be.... IT IS!!!

Am rowed ashore, bag and baggage, next morning. Dear old Bluewater tries
to keep me from going, and says, "What, after all, _is_ sea-sickness?"
Dear old Bluewater must be an ass. Confound old Bluewater!

[Footnote A: Qy. spinnaker boom.--ED.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE EXCURSION.

_Head of Family._ "I reckon some of us'll have to stand, or we shan't
all get seats!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: CAUSE AND EFFECT

_Mrs. Brown._ "I had such a lovely bathe last Thursday, dear."

_Niece._ "That was the day of the tidal wave, wasn't it, Auntie?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: How Stonehenge might be popularised if the Government
bought it. Suggestion gratis.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Full-sized Tripper._ "How does one get into the
churchyard, please?"

_Simple Little Native._ "Through this 'ere 'ole!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Walking Tourist._ "What's the name of this village, my
man?"

_Yokel._ "Oi dunno, zur. Oi only bin 'ere a month!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE OLD WORLD AND THE NEW

_Fair Yankee_ (_in Egypt_). "I say, uncle, can yew tell me, air there
ever any new camels? I guess all I've seen must be second-hand!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

AN UNCONGENIAL SPOT FOR TEETOTALERS.--Barmouth.

       *       *       *       *       *

A MAN WHO BEATS ABOUT THE BUSH.--An Australian.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "IN PERIL OF PRECIPITATION"--_Coriolanus_, iii. 3.

_Stout Party._ "Hi! boy, stop! I'm going to get off."

_Donkey Boy._ "Yer carn't, marm. There ain't room!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DETECTED.--_Clerical Tourist_ (_visiting cathedral_).
"Always open, eh? And do you find that people come here on week-days for
rest and meditation?"

_Verger._ "Ay, that they do, odd times. Why, I catched some of 'em at it
only last Toosday!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Old Lady._ "Well, if that's David, what a size Goliath
must a' been."]

       *       *       *       *       *

HOLIDAY FARE IN CORNWALL

  A Roll on the billow,
    A Loaf by the shore,
  A Fig for fashion,
    And Cream galore!

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ROAD TO THE NIAGARA FALLS.--_Via Dollarosa._

       *       *       *       *       *

WHERE THE FELLAH'S SHOE PINCHES.--Where the corn used to be--in Egypt.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FINIS]

       *       *       *       *       *

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.

       *       *       *       *       *