Mr Punch Afloat Part 19

The Thames Conservancy in many branches.

Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse.

Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do.

A vast mult.i.tude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town.

Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique.

An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world.

And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and the very embodiment of fairplay.

The new lock at Teddington must be a patent one, as there is no quay.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NOT THE FIRST TIME THEY DON'T AGREE TOGETHER

_Wife._ "Isn't it jolly to think we have the whole day before us? The boatman says we couldn't go home, even if we wanted to, till the tide turns, and that's not for hours and hours yet. I've got all sorts of lovely things for lunch too!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BIS DAT QUI CITO DAT

_Lock-keeper (handing ticket)._ "Threepence, please."

_Little Jenkins._ "Not me: I've just paid that fellow back there."

_Lock-keeper (drily)._ "'Im! Oh, that's the chap _who collects for the Band_!"]

HINTS FOR HENLEY

Flannels in moderation are pardonable, but they are slightly out of place if you can't row and it rains.

The cuisine of a houseboat is not always limitless, so "chance" visitors are sometimes more numerous than welcome.

The humours of burnt-cork minstrelsy must be tolerated during an aquatic carnival, but it is as well to give street singers as wide a berth as possible.

In the selection of guests for, say, _The Pearl of the North Pole_, or _The Hushaby Baby_, it is as well to learn that none of them are cuts with the others, and all are prepared to accept "roughing it" as the order of the day.

Lanterns, music, and fireworks are extremely pretty things, but night air on the river is sometimes an introduction to sciatica, rheumatism, and chills.

In the selection of a costume, a lady should remember that it is good to be "smart," but better still to be well.

Finally, it is desirable to bear in mind that, pleasant as riparian life may be, Henley is, after all, a regatta, and that consequently some sort of attention should be paid to the racing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GASTRONOMERS AFLOAT

_Mrs. Fleshpottle._ "Well, I must say, Mrs. Gumblewag, I like something substantial for _my_ dinner. Nothing, I think, can be better than some pea-soup to begin with; then a biled leg of mutton with plenty of fat, with turnips and caper sauce; then some tripe and onions, and one or two nice suet dumplings as a finish!"

_Mrs. Gumblewag._ "For my part, mum, I prefer something more tasty and flavoursome-like. Now, a well-cooked bullock's heart, to be followed by some liver and bacon, and a dish of greens. Afterwards a jam bolster, and a black pudding, and some toasted cheese to top up with, is what I call a dinner fit for a----"

[_Mr. Doddlewig does not wait to hear any more!_

MORE HINTS FOR HENLEY

(_For the use of Visitors, Male and Female_)

Take an umbrella to keep off the rain--unopened.

Beware of encouraging burnt-cork minstrels, or incurring their resentment.

Remember, it is not every houseboat that is sufficiently hospitable to afford lunch.

After all, a travel down from town in the train is better than the discomforts of dawn on the river in a houseboat.

Six hours of enforced company is a strong order for the best of friends, sometimes leading to incipient enmity.

A canoe for two is a pleasant distraction if the man is equal to keeping from an upset in the water.

Flirting is a not unpleasant accompaniment to an _alfresco_ lunch with well-iced liquids.

If you really wish to make a favourable impression upon everyone, be cheery, contented, good-natured, and, above all, slightly interested in the racing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Enthusiastic Skipper._ "Aha! my boy! You can't do this sort of thing on sh.o.r.e!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: SQUALLY WEATHER--MAKING ALL "TAUT"]

FURTHER REGULATIONS FOR HENLEY

(_Under the Consideration of the Thames Conservancy_)