Mr. Punch Afloat: The Humours of Boating and Sailing by Hammerton and Tenniel (i can read book club .TXT) 📖

[Pg 42]

Sailing in the Wind's Eye.—In order to accomplish this difficult manœuvre, you must first of all discover where the wind's eye is, and then, if it be practicable, you may proceed to sail in it. It is presumed for this purpose that the wind's eye is a "liquid" one.

Hugging the Shore.—When you desire to hug the shore, you first of all must land on it. Then take some sand and shingle in your arms, and give it a good hug. In doing this, however, be careful no one sees you, or the result of the manœuvre may be a strait-waistcoat.

Wearing a Ship.—This it is by no means an easy thing to do, and it is difficult to suggest what will make it easier. Wearing a chignon is preposterous enough, but when a man is told that he must wear a ship, he would next expect to hear that he must eat the Monument.

Boxing the Compass.—Assume a fighting attitude,[Pg 44] and hit the compass a "smart stinger on the dial-plate," as the sporting papers call it. But before you do so, you had best take care to have your boxing-gloves on, or you may hurt your fingers.

Whistling for a Wind.—When you whistle for a wind, you should choose an air appropriate, such as "Blow, gentle gales," or "Winds, gently whisper."

Reefing the Lee-scuppers.—First get upon a reef, and then put your lee-scuppers on it. The manœuvre is so simple, that no more need be said of it.

Splicing the Main-brace.—When your main-brace comes in pieces, get a needle and thread and splice it. If it be your custom to wear a pair of braces, you first must ascertain which of them is your main one.

Brighton Boatman. "There's a wessel out there, sir, a labourin' a good deal, sir! Ah, sir, sailors works werry 'ard—precious 'ard lines it is for the poor fellers out there!—Precious hard it is for everybody just now. I know I should like the price of a pint o' beer and a bit o' bacca!"

[Pg 43]

Scene—A quiet nook, five miles off anywhere. Jones has gone down to the punt to fetch up the luncheon-basket, and has dropped it overboard.

PUZZLE.—What to do—or say?—except——

[Pg 45]

"THE ANCHOR'S WEIGHED" (Sketched on an excursion steamer)

[Pg 46]

WHAT NO ONE SHOULD FORGET, IN CROSSING THE CHANNEL

To place his rugs, carpet-bags, and umbrellas on the six best seats on the boat.

To worry the captain with remarks about the state of the weather and the performance of the steamer: to observe to the steward that there is a change in the weather, and that there were more passengers the last time he crossed.

To speak to the man at the wheel, and ask him whether there was much sea on last trip.

To change his last half-crown into French money, and squabble with the steward as to the rate of exchange.

To stare at his neighbours, read aloud their names on their luggage, and remark audibly that he'll lay anything the lady with the slight twang is an American.

To repeat the ancient joke on "Back her! stop her!"

If the passage is rough, to put his feet on his[Pg 48] neighbour's head, after appropriating all the cushions in the cabin.

To call for crockery in time. N.B.—Most important.

To groan furiously for an hour and a half, if a sufferer; or, if utterly callous to waves and their commotions, to eat beef and ham, and drink porter and brandy-and-water, during the entire voyage, with as much clattering of forks and noise of mastication as is compatible with enjoyment.

To kiss his hand, on entering the harbour, to the matelottes on the quays, or send his love in bad French to the Prefect of Police.

To struggle for a front place, in crowding off the steamer, as if the ship was on fire. And finally—

To answer every one who addresses him in good English in the worst possible French.

"What with the horse-boats," said Mrs. Ramsbotham, "the steam-lunches, the condolers, the out-ragers, the Canadian caboose, and the banyans, we had the greatest difficulty, at Henley, in getting from one side of the river to the other."

[Pg 47]

HOUSEBOAT AT THE ANCIENT HENLEIAN GAMES

[Pg 49]

THE "CENTIPEDE"

A new flexible, patent-jointed, vertebral outrigger. (Seen—and drawn—by our artist (the festive one), after an unusually scrumptious lunch on board a houseboat at Henley).

[Pg 50]

THE INFLUENCE OF PLACES

Egeria. "Surely, Mr. Swinson, it must have been here, and on such a day as this, that you wrote those lines that end—

"'Give me the white-maned steeds to ride,
The Arabs of the main'——wasn't it?"

Mr. Swinson (faintly). "N-no. Reading party—half-way up Matterhorn!"

THE SILVER TEMS!

The butiful River's a-running to Town,

It never runs up, but allers runs down,

Weather it rains, or weather it snos;

And where it all cums from, noboddy nose.

The young swell Boatmen drest in white,

To their Mothers' arts must be a delite;

At roein or skullin the gals is sutch dabs,

For they makes no Fowls and they ketches no Crabs.[Pg 51]

The payshent hangler sets in a punt,

Willee ketch kold? I hopes as he wunt.

I wotches him long, witch I states is fax,

He dont ketch nothin but Ticklebacks.

The prudent Ferryman sets under cover,

Waiting to take me from one shore to t'other;

I calls out "Hover!" and hover he roes,

If he aint sober then hover we goes.

When it's poring with rane and a tempest a-blowin,

A penny don't seem mutch for this here rowin;

And wen the River's as ruff as the Sea,

I thinks of the two I'd sooner be me.

For when I'm at work at Ampton or Lea,

Waitin at dinner, or waitin at tea,

I gits as much from a yewthful Pair

As he gits in a day for all that there.

Then let me bless my lucky Star

That made me a Waiter and not a Tar;

And the werry nex time I've a glass of old Sherry,

I'll drink to the pore chap as roes that 'ere Ferry.

Robert.

Very Low Form on the part of Father Thames.

Boy (standing in mid-stream at Kew, to boating party). "'Ere ye are! Tow ye up to Richmond Lock! All by water, sir!"

[Pg 52]

PUNCH'S NAVAL SONGSTER

It is a well-known fact that the songs of Dibdin had a wonderful effect on the courage of the Navy, and there is no doubt that the Ben Blocks, Ben Backstays, Tom