_Obliging Hostess._ "Oh, yes, sir."

_First Traveller._ "Have you--er--any--er--_insects_ in this house?"

_Obliging Hostess._ "No, sir. _But we can get you some!"_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Lady_ (_to her travelling companion, who has just had his finger-nail pinched badly_). "How horrid! I always think anything wrong with one's nails sets one's teeth on edge all down one's back!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEARING THE ENGLISH COAST

_Jones._ (_Returning to England_). "We are quite fifty miles from the Scilly Isles, Miss Brown. They say the odour of the flowers they cultivate there travels that distance over the sea. I can detect it distinctly now--can't you?"

_Miss Brown_ (_from America_). "I guess it hasn't _quite_ reached me yet, Mr. Jones!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ON A CERTAIN CONDESCENSION IN FOREIGNERS.--_He._ "Oh, you're from America, are you? People often say to me, 'Don't you dislike Americans?' But I always say 'I believe there are some very nice ones among them.'"

_She._ "Ah, I dare say there _may_ be two or three nice people amongst millions!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: OUR COUNTRYMEN ABROAD.--_Mr. Shoddy._ "_I_ always say, Mrs. Sharp, that I never feel really safe from the ubiquitous British sn.o.b till I am south of the Danube!"

_Mrs. Sharp_ (_innocently_). "And what do the--a--_South Danubians_ say, Mr. Shoddy?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Waiter._ "Did you ring, Sir?"

_Traveller_ (_as a gentle hint to previous arrival_). "_Another fire_, waiter!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Mr. Smith._ "Oh, I was wondering whether you and your husband would care to accompany our party to Hadrian's Villa to-morrow?"

_Young American Bride._ "Why, yes; we'd just love to go. George and I will be furnishing as soon as we get back to Noo York, and maybe we'd be able to pick up a few notions over at this villa."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: UNANSWERABLE

_Pompous Magnate_ (_making speech at public luncheon in provincial town_). "Speaking of travel reminds me how greatly I have admired the scenery round Lake Geneva, and also what pleasant times I have spent in the neighbourhood of Lake Leman."

_Cultured Neighbour_ (_in audible whisper_). "Pardon me, but the two places are synonymous."

_P. M._ (_patronisingly_). "Ah! So _you_ may think, sir--so _you_ may think! But, from my point of view, I consider Lake Geneva to be far the most synonymous of the two."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT'S AN ILL WIND," &c.--"Oh, papa! what _do_ you think?

Four out of our twelve boxes are missing."

"Hurrah! By George! that's the best piece of news I've had for a long time."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: AN EPICURE.--"Oh, George, I'm ashamed of you--rubbing your lips like that, after that dear little French girl has given you a kiss!"

"I'm not rubbing it _out_, mammy--I'm rubbing it _in_!"]

A COWES WEEK EXPERIENCE

_Monday._--Dear old Bluewater--what a good fellow he is!--asks me to join his yacht, the _Sudden Jerk_, for Cowes week. Never been yachting before.

_Tuesday._--Arrive Ryde Pier, correctly (I hope) "got up"; blue serge, large bra.s.s anchor b.u.t.tons, and peaked cap. Fancy Bluewater rather surprised to see how _au fait_ I am at nautical dress. "Ah! my dear fellow, delighted to see you. Come along; the gig is lying alongside the steps. One of the hands" (why "hands"?) "shall look to your traps." We scramble into gig and are rowed out to 50-ton yawl. Climb up side.

Bluewater says, "Come below. Take care--two steps down, then turn round and---- Oh! by Jove! what a crack you've caught your head. Never mind, old boy, you'll soon get accustomed to it." Devoutly hope I shall _not_ get accustomed to knocking my head. Arrive at foot of "companion" (why "companion"?) stairs. Bluewater pulls aside curtains and says, "_There_ you are!" Reply, "Oh! yes, there I am. Er--is--do you lie on the shelf--oh! berth, is it!--beg pardon--or underneath it?" He explains.

"You'll find it very jolly, you know; you can lie in your bunk, and look right up the companion to the sky above." "Oh! awfully jolly," I say.

We repair on deck. Get under weigh to run down to Cowes. Dear old Bluewater very active. Pulls at ropes and things, shouting "leggo-your-spinach-and-broom,"[A] and other unintelligible war-cries.

Stagger across deck. Breeze very fresh. "Lee oh!" shouts Bluewater; "mind the broom!"--or it might have been boom--and next moment am knocked flat on my back by enormous pole.

Arrive Cowes. Crowd of yachts. Drop anchor for night. Go below, damp face in tiny iron basin; yacht lurches and rolls all the water out over new white shoes. Enter saloon, tripping over some one's kit-bag at the door. Try to save myself by clutching at swing-table, which upsets and empties soup tureen all over my trousers. Retire, change, return. Host and I sit down and proceed to chase fried soles backwards and forwards across treacherous swing-table. "_Now_, my dear fellow isn't this jolly? Isn't this worth all your club dinners?" Reply "Oh, yes,"

enthusiastically. Privately, should prefer club in London. Weather gets worse. Try to smoke. Don't seem to care for smoking, somehow. Feel depressed, and ask dear old Bluewater to describe a sailor's grave.

Tries to cheer me up by saying, "Don't waste the precious moments, my friend, on such sad subjects. You are not born to fill a seaman's grave.

There's a cla.s.s of man not born to be drowned, you know." Then he laughs heartily. Try to smile; fail. Pitching and rocking motion increases.

Retire early and lie down on shelf. Fall off twice. Manage to reach perch again. Weather gets worse. Shall never sleep with noise of trampling on deck and waves washing yacht's sides. Shall never---- Sudden misgiving. _Am_ I going to be----? Oh! no, must be pa.s.sing dizziness. It cannot possibly be.... IT IS!!!

Am rowed ash.o.r.e, bag and baggage, next morning. Dear old Bluewater tries to keep me from going, and says, "What, after all, _is_ sea-sickness?"

Dear old Bluewater must be an a.s.s. Confound old Bluewater!

[Footnote A: Qy. spinnaker boom.--ED.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EXCURSION.

_Head of Family._ "I reckon some of us'll have to stand, or we shan't all get seats!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAUSE AND EFFECT

_Mrs. Brown._ "I had such a lovely bathe last Thursday, dear."