Public-domain ebook
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 13, 1890
by Various
Language: en363 downloads on Project Gutenberg
Subjects
In: Punch·Humour·British Literature
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #12394.
The opening · free to read
Punch,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 99.
September 13, 1890.
OUT FOR A HOLIDAY.
(BY OUR IMPARTIAL AND NOT-TO-BE-BIASSED CRITIC.)
I had often been told that St. Margaret's Bay, between Deal and Dover, was lovely beyond compare. Seen from the Channel, I had heard it described as "magnificent," and evidence of its charms nearer at hand, was adduced in the fact that Mr. ALMA TADEMA, R.A., had made it his headquarters during a portion of the recent summer.
So I determined to visit it. I had to take a ticket to Martin's Mill, a desolate spot, containing a railway station, a railway hotel, and (strange to say) a mill. I was told by an obliging official on my arrival, that St. Margaret's Bay was a mile and a half distant--"to the village." And a mile and a half--a very good mile and a half--it was! Up hill, down dale, along the dustiest of dusty roads, bordered by telegraph poles that suggested an endless lane without a turning. On climbing to the summit of each hill another long stretch of road presented itself. At length the village was reached, and I looked about me for the sea. A cheerful young person who was flirting with a middle-aged cyclist seemed surprised when I asked after it. "Oh, the sea!" she exclaimed, in a tone insinuating that the ocean was at a decided discount in her part of the world--"oh, you will find that a mile further on." I sighed wearily, and recommenced my plodding stumbles.
I passed two unhappy-looking stone eagles protecting a boarding-house, and a shed given over to the sale of lollipops and the hiring of a pony-chaise. The cottages seemed to me to be of the boat-turned-bottom-upwards order of architecture, and were adorned with placards, announcing "Apartments to Let." Everything seemed to let, except, perhaps, the church, which, however (on second thoughts), appeared to be let alone. But if the houses were not, in themselves, particularly inviting, their names were pleasing enough, although, truth to tell, a trifle misleading. For instance, there was a "Marine Lodge," which seemed a very considerable distance from the ocean, and a "Swiss chalet," that but faintly suggested the land renowned equally for mountains and merry juveniles. I did not notice any shops, although I fancy, from the appearance of a small barber's pole that I found in front of a cottage, that the hair-dressing interest must have had a local representative. For the rest, an air of hopefulness, if not precisely cheerfulness, was given to the place by the presence of a Convalescent Hospital. Leaving the village behind me, I came, footsore and staggering, at length to the Bay. I was cruelly disappointed. Below me was what appeared to be a small portion of Rosherville, augmented with two bathing-machines, and a residence for the Coast-guard. There was a hotel, (with a lawn-tennis ground), and several placards, telling of land to let. The descent to the sea was very steep, and, on the high road above it, painfully modern villas were putting in a disfiguring appearance. On the beach was a melancholy pic-nic party, engaged in a mild carouse. In the gloaming was a light-ship, marking the end of the Goodwin Sands.
On a beautiful day no doubt St. Margaret's Bay would look quite as lovely as Gravesend, but when it rained I question whether it would compare favourably with Southend under similar atmospheric circumstances. There was some shrubbery creeping up the white hill-side that may have been considered artistic, and possibly the great expanse of ocean (when completely free from mist) had to a certain extent a sort of charm. As I looked towards the coast of France I had an excellent view of a steamer, crammed with (presumably) noisy excursionists, coming from Margate. But when I have said this I have nothing more to add, save that you can get from Martin's Mill to St. Margaret's Bay by an omnibus. By catching this conveyance you avoid a tedious walk, which puts you out of temper for the rest of the day.
P.S.--I missed the omnibus!
Eight matches played, and eight matches won! That's what none of the First-class Counties have done. 'Tis clear that Young Zummerset knows "how to do it." Bravo, PALAIRET, WOODS, TYLER, ROE, HEWITT! Go on in this fashion, and soon you'll be reckoned Among the First-Classers, instead of the Second. Wet wickets this season, boys, seldom a rummer set, But they anyhow seem to have suited Young Zummerset!
Medical Officer (smiling). I am afraid, Sir, you may give me no military rank, as it would be contrary to the Regulations.
The Com. Have I not the pleasure of addressing a soldier?
Med. Off. Well, yes, Sir, I suppose I may claim that title. I am an Army Surgeon, and in that capacity have not only to risk my life equally with my comrades in the field, but have to brave the additional danger inseparable from the fever-wards of a hospital. As a matter of fact many of my colleagues have earned the V.C., and not a few taken command when their aid was needed. I hope you have not forgotten ANTHONY HOME WYLIE and MACKINNON.
The Com. Certainly not--they are gallant fellows. Well, I am sorry to see you here, Doctor--what can I do for you?
Med. Off. I would ask your good services, Sir, to get us greater recognition in the Army. Pray understand we do not wish to be called Captain, Major, or Colonel, merely to "peacock" before civilians, but because, without official recognition of our true status, we are treated as inferior beings by the youngest subaltern in any battalion to which we may be attached.
The Com. Surely, Doctor, the title you have secured by scientific attainments, takes precedence of all others more easily obtained?
Med. Off. Possibly, in a College common-room, but not at a mess-table of a dépôt centre. That I express the general opinion of members of my profession is proved by the fact that it is shared by Sir ANDREW CLARK, the President of the Royal College of Physicians.
The Com. Well, what would you propose?
Med. Off. That we should be put on the same footing so far as rank is concerned, with officers in the Commissariat and other non-actively-combatant branches of the Army. We are merely fighting the fight fought years ago by another scientific corps, the Royal Engineers.
The Com. But surely, Doctor, the officers you have mentioned know something of their drill?
Med. Off. If that is the difficulty, let us make ourselves equally proficient. The more we are in touch with the so-called combatant officers the better.
The Com. Well, certainly, if you are good drills (and have some knowledge of the internal economy of a regiment, and the rudiments of military law) I cannot see why you should not enjoy the rank to which you aspire. I wish you every success in your application. After all, you are masters of the situation. If your superior officers are unreasonable--physic them!
[_The Witness after returning thanks, then withdrew._
"_So glad you have a fine day for your garden-party. Was quite anxious about the weather;_" i.e., "Hoped sincerely it would rain hard--hate garden-parties--can't think why I'm here."
"_How good of you to undertake such a long drive!_" i.e., "hoped it would choke her off."
"_So sweet of you to have brought your dear children;_" i.e., "Greedy little pigs!--gobble up everything before the real guests arrive."
"_Must you_ really go?" i.e., "About time--you're the last but one."
"_Now mind--this is Liberty Hall--I always think true hospitality is, letting people do just what they like;_" i.e., "_If_ he's late for breakfast--and IF he shirks driving with Mrs. MORSON!"
"_We lunch at half-past one. But don't trouble to be punctual. Quite a moveable feast;_" i.e., "If he's unpunctual, he won't forget it."
"_Such a lovely drive I want to take you this afternoon;_" i.e., "_Must_ pay that call to-day."
"_Going to-morrow? Oh_, do stay--we had looked forward to quite a week more. Can't you alter it?" i.e., "Quite safe. Know he's got to go."
"_Such a sweet girl to have in the house!_" i.e., "Slaves for her from morning till night."
The book keeps going
Keep reading, and see it illustrated
Reading is free forever. Sign up and watch scenes appear while you read.
Scenes Storieta drew for other classics.
