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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 13, 1892   By:

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VOL. 103

AUGUST 13, 1892


Yacht "Ibex," Weymouth.


Once again "my foot is on my native heath." (I don't know where this quotation comes from, but presume the author of it had lost a leg, or he would have placed his feet there or else he must have had one leg shorter than the other, and so couldn't put both down at once!) and heartily glad I am to be there we had a most alarming passage from Jersey, and I thought every moment would be my last ( for a time ) but I was cheered and stimulated to endurance by the noble example of my friend and fellow passenger The MACDOUGAL Chief of the Clan who was obtrusively well up to lunch time! but I had my revenge then, for he was unable to face the dish of Haggis that I am given to understand every right minded Scotchman thinks it his duty to eat at least once a day.

However, "I pulled through all right," as Lord ARTHUR would say, and was so delighted with my sailor like indifference to the "rolling sea," that I adopted a rolling walk on landing, which was most impressive, to judge from the staring of the inhabitants of Weymouth! (I may confess to you that I couldn't help myself; everything was going up and down and sideways, for hours after I landed, and I really think the sea ought to be done away with, or flattened out by some means! there's a fortune for the man who invents the machine which will do it!) I should prefer it done away with myself, as then there would be no mackerel fishing!

I have no personal animosity against the humble but lovely looking mackerel; but I was weak enough to accept an invitation to go fishing for them, and you may imagine my horror at being "roused out," (yachting expression, very significant) at three in the morning to go and capture them! or at least to try for as a matter of fact, we didn't get a single one and my temper was "roused out" before we'd finished, for no well conducted woman cares to be balked in her efforts to "hook a big fish," and all I could catch were a few small "Pollock" and "Pout." By the way, who on earth christens the fish, I wonder? and why on earth or rather in sea are there so many varieties which you must either remember or submit to nave your ignorance jeered at by the practised fisherman, who has probably acquired his information concerning them only the day before?

The English "Bay of Naples" is a wonderful place, and its resemblance to its Italian prototype is admirably sustained through the liberality of the Local Board in encouraging the importation of Italian penny ice men! I really think this wholesale importation of foreigners is being carried to excess, and has already created a feeling that England is no place for the English! And then the concerts you can hear for nothing! that is, if you harden your heart when the man comes round with the tin pail! everyone has a spade or a pail at the seaside all the latest London successes, from TOSTI to " Ta ra ra ," accompanied by a strong contingent of the Salvation Army Brass Band! and there is a lot of "brass" about the Army still unaccounted for! What an enervating part of the world this is! One quite realises what "lotus eating" means, even though there are no lotuses about! (I wonder if that's the correct plural? or is it " Loti "? which looks like French, only wants "PIERRE" as Christian name. Or if additional " t " introduced, it would be "Lotti," suggestive of COLLINS' Ode to Boom , &c.; but I am wandering) and it requires enormous energy to do anything more than loll about and bathe; even on the Island of Portland, where the air is rather more invigorating, I am told there are numbers of people who express a strong disinclination to perform any hard labour whatever, in spite of the fact of a short residence there having been recommended as calculated to improve their general "tone"! I only wish the aforesaid Salvation Army Band would go there on a lengthy visit, as its "tone" leaves much to be desired at present... Continue reading book >>

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