Mr. Punch at the Seaside by J. A. Hammerton (e reader books txt) 📖
- Author: J. A. Hammerton
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Query at some Fashionable Seaside Resort.—Do the unpleasant odours noticeable at certain times arise from the fact of the tide being high? If so, is the tide sometimes higher than usual, as the—ahem!—odours certainly are?
[Pg 121]
Gruff Voice (behind her—she thought she heard her own name). "She's a gettin' old, Bill, and she sartain'y ain't no beauty! But you and I'll smarten her up! Give her a good tarrin' up to the waist, and a streak o' paint, and they 'ont know her again when the folks come down a' Whitsun'. Come along, and let's ketch 'old of her, and shove her into the water fust of all!!"
Miss Isabella. "Oh! the horrid wretches! No policeman in sight! Nothing for it but flight!"
[Is off like a bird!
[Pg 123]
There were even then quiet spots by the sea where one could be alone with Nature undisturbed
[Pg 124]
Botanical Old Gent (in the Brighton Gardens). "Can you tell me, my good man, if this plant belongs to the 'Arbutus' family?"
Gardener (curtly). "No, sir, it doan't. It b'longs to the Corporation!"
[Pg 125]
Portrait of a gentleman attempting to regain his tent after the morning bath
[Pg 126]
Blanche. "I say, some of you, call after aunty! She has taken my chignon, and left me her horrid black one!"
[Pg 127]
The captain, who is well up in his classics, translates, for his Fanny's benefit, a celebrated Latin poem (by one Lucretius) to the effect that it is sweet to gaze from the cliff at the bathing machines vainly struggling to take the unfortunate bathers into deep water.
[Pg 129]
To find your bathing-machine if you've forgotten the number.
[Pg 130]
Seaside Drama.—Mrs. de Tomkyns (sotto voce, to Mr. de T.). "Ludovic, dear, there's Algernon playing with a strange child! Do prevent it!"
Mr. de T. (ditto, to Mrs. de T.). "How on earth am I to prevent it, my love?"
Mrs. de T. "Tell its parents Algernon is just recovering from scarlet fever, or something!"
Mr. de T. "But it isn't true!"
Mrs. de T. "Oh, never mind! Tell them, all the same!"
Mr. de T. (aloud). "Ahem! Sir, you'd better not let your little girl play with my little boy. He's only just recovering from—er—Scarlet Fever!"
Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins (together). "It's all right, sir!—so's our little gal!"
[Pg 131]
Fussy Landlady (to new Lodger). "Well, sir, if you'll only tell me when you want a bath, I'll see you have it."
[Pg 132]
BY THE SEASIDE (A Gasp and a Growl from Paterfamilias Fogey)In for it here,
Six weeks or more,
Once every year
(Yah, what a bore!)
Daughters and wife
Force me to bide
Mad to "see life"
By the seaside!
Go out of town
What if we do?
Hither comes down
All the world too;
Vanity Fair,
Fashion and Pride,
Seeking fresh air
By the seaside.
Drest up all hands—
Raiment how dear!—
Down on the sands,
Out on the Pier,
Pace to and fro,
See, as at Ryde,
Off how they show
By the seaside!
[Pg 134]
Fops and fine girls,
Swarm, brisk as bees;
Ribbons and curls
Float on the breeze;
Females and males
Eye and are eyed;
Ogling prevails
By the seaside!
Daughters may see
Some fun in that.
Wife, how can she,
Grown old and fat?
Scene I survey
But to deride,
Idle display
By the seaside.
Views within reach,
Picturesque scenes,
Rocks on the beach,
Bathing machines,
Shingle and pools,
Left by the tide,
Youth, far from schools,
By the seaside.
Artists may sketch,
Draw and design,
Pencil, or etch;
Not in my line.
Money, no end,
Whilst I am tied
Here, I must spend,
By the seaside!
[Pg 133]
Snooks (to new acquaintance). "Tell yer what, look in one evenin' and 'ave a bit of supper, if you don't mind 'avin it in the kitchen. Yer see, we're plain people, and don't put on no side. Of course, I know as a toff like you 'ud 'ave it in the drawing-room!"
[Pg 135]
Mrs. Brown finds Sandymouth a very different place from what she remembers it years ago.
Greengrocer. "Cabbage, mum!? We don't keep no second-class vegetables, mum. You'll get it at the lower end o' the town!"
[Pg 136]
SEASIDE VIEWSTom Jones (in love). The most heavenly place I ever was in. The sun is warmer, the sky bluer, the sea the calmest I ever knew. Joy sparkles on every pebble; Art spreads its welcome arms through every spray of seaweed. True happiness encircles me on every breeze, and Beauty is by my side.
Old Jones. Beastly slow. All sea and sky, and ugly round stones. You can't bask in the sun because there is none—it's always raining—and because the flints worry your back. Confound the children, scraping up the wet sand and smelling seaweeds! It must be time for them to go to bed or to lessons or something. Wherever you sit there is sure to be a draught, and such heaps of old women you can't put your legs up on the[Pg 138] seat. Hang it all, there isn't a young girl in the place, let alone pretty ones.
Young Brown (waiting for a Commission). Awfully dull. Quite too excessively detestable. Not a fellow to talk to, you know, who knows anything about the Leger, or draw-poker, or modern education, you know. Can't get introduced to Lady Tom Peeper. Nobody to do it. Wish my moustache would curl. Pull it all day, you know, but it won't come. Lady Tom smiled, on the Parade to-day. Got very red, but I shall smile too to-morrow. A man must do something in this dreadful place.
Major Brown (Heavies). Not half bad kind of diggings. Quite in clover. Found Lydia here—I mean Lady Tom Peeper. Horribly satirical woman, though. Keeps one up to the mark. I shall have to read up to keep pace with her. I shouldn't like to be chaffed by her. Better friend than enemy. Poor Tom Peeper! he must have a[Pg 140] bad time of it! Can't say "Bo" to a gosling. And she knows it. That's why he never comes down here. Coast clear. Fancy she's rather sweet on me. By Jove! we had a forty-mile-an-hour-express flirtation before her marriage! Must take care what I'm about now. Mustn't have a collision with Tom—good old man, after all, if he is a fool. Take this note round, Charles, to the same place.
Mrs. Robinson (Materfamilias). Scarcely room to swing a cot, for baby. Thank goodness, all the children are on the beach. I hope Mary Ann won't let out to the other nurses that Totty had the scarlet fever. He's quite well now, poor little man, and no one will be any the worse for it. Horrid! of course. No, it is not a Colorado beetle, Robinson. They infest the curtains; we did not bring them with us in our trunks. Do go out and buy some insect-powder, instead of looking stupid behind that nasty cigar. Oh, and get some soap and some tooth-powder, and order baby's tonic, and Jane's iron—mind, sesqui-sulphate of iron (I[Pg 142] suppose I must find the prescription), and a box of—what's that stuff for sore throats? And do hire a perambulator with a hood. And we have no dessert for to-morrow—you know, or you ought to know, it's Sunday. Some fruit, and what you like. Oh! and don't forget some biscuits for the dog. What has become of Tiny? Tiny! Tiny! I know he did not go with the children. I dare say he has eaten something horrid, and is dying under a chair. Dear! dear! who would be mother of a family with such a careless, thoughtless, quite too utterly selfish husband as you are. Of course you never remembered to-day was my birthday. I ought never to have been born. A bracelet or a pair of ear-rings—or, by the way, I saw a lovely ch�telaine on the Parade. You might find enough to give me one pleasure since our wedding.
Robinson (Paterfamilias). I like the seaside, I do. When will it be over?
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