Mr. Punch On Tour Part 4

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

[Ill.u.s.tration: "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!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _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!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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._

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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'!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 pa.s.s 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "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 gla.s.s 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-cla.s.s 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?