_À Monsieur Punch._
MONSIEUR,--_Je viens d'arriver_--but hold! I go to write in
english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress
of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve--_la Manche_, how say you? Ah _la
douleureuse traversée_, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train
arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard,
the other _réclames_--how say you?--but not the name of the station.
Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! _Sapristi_,
how she is little this station! _La gare de Londres_ no more great than
a station of _banlieue_, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately.
I seek my baggages, I go to find a _fiacre_, a "ansom." Then in English
I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraïttseu," say
he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of
same I mount in carriage and we part.
Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but
offices. And not of number forty.
"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I,
"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road.
Hold! Again a street of commerce--but of the most villain. I anger
myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraïtt,
maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is
there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may
be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua
Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the
coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more
small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He
say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then
he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George
Street! _Tiens, c'est embêtant!_ But it is but a street of commerce,
and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street?
_Sapristi! Quelle ville!_ If they love the name of George, these
English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraïahs," say the
coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine,
see there number forty. But it is a little shop. _Mille tonnerres! Pas
encore!_ "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets,
without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty
is a shop! _Sacré nom d'une pipe!_ "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some
_kilomètres_ to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them
is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english,
"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah."
I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself.
Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number
forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course
in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend.
What? He live not here? He is gone? _A la bonne heure!_ "One more," say
the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah,
Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one
is not the George Street that I seek! _Que le diable enlève_----
But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I
descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1·50.
Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a
long course; I go to give a good _pourboire_, one shilling. I offer
to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he
descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?"
He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my
friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say,
"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear
the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a
discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of
London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg
you, Mister _Punch_, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and
to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished.