(_By Mr. Punch's Own Oarsman_)
Sir,--This letter is private and is not intended for publication. I
particularly beg that you will note this, as on a former occasion some
remarks of mine, which were intended only for your private eye, were
printed. I of course accepted your assurance that no offence was meant,
and that the oversight was due to a person whose services had since the
occurrence been dispensed with; but I look to you to take care that it
shall not happen again. Otherwise the mutual confidence that should
always exist between an editor and his staff cannot possibly be
maintained, and I shall have to transfer my invaluable services to some
other paper. The notes and prognostications which I have laboriously
compiled with regard to the final results of the regatta will arrive by
the next post, and will, I flatter myself, be found to be
extraordinarily accurate, besides being written in that vivid and
picturesque style which has made my contributions famous throughout the
civilised world.
There are one or two little matters about which I honestly desire to
have your opinion. You know perfectly well that I was by no means
anxious for the position of aquatic reporter. In vain I pointed out to
you that my experience of the river was entirely limited to an
occasional trip by steamboat from Charing Cross to Gravesend. You said
that was an amply sufficient qualification, and that no aquatic reporter
who respected himself and his readers, had ever so far degraded himself
as to row in a boat and to place his body in any of the absurd positions
which modern oarsmanship demands. Finding you were inexorable, and
knowing your ridiculously hasty temper, I consented finally to undertake
the arduous duties. These circumstances, however, make it essential that
you should give me advice when I require it. For obvious reasons I don't
much like to ask any of the rowing men here any questions. They are
mostly in what they call hard training, which means, I fancy, a
condition of high irritability. Their strokes may be long, but their
tempers are, I regret to say, painfully short. Besides, to be candid, I
don't wish to show the least trace of ignorance. My position demands
that I should be omniscient, and omniscient, to all outward appearance,
I shall remain.
In the first place, what is a "lightship"? As I travelled down to Henley
I read in one of the newspapers that "practice for the Royal Regatta was
now in full swing, and that the river was dotted with lightships of
every description." I remember some years ago passing a very pleasant
half hour on board of a lightship moored in the neighbourhood of
Broadstairs. The rum was excellent. I looked forward with a lively
pleasure to repeating the experience at Henley. As soon as I arrived,
therefore, I put on my yachting cap (white, with a gold anchor
embroidered in front), hired a boat and a small boy, and directed him to
row me immediately to one of the lightships. I spent at least two hours
on the river in company with that boy--a very impudent little
fellow,--but owing no doubt to his stupidity, I failed to find a single
vessel which could be fairly described as a lightship. Finally the boy
said they had all been sunk in yesterday's great storm, and with that
inadequate explanation I was forced to content myself. But there is a
mystery about this. Please explain it.
Secondly, I see placards and advertisements all over the place
announcing that "the Stewards Stand." Now this fairly beats me. Why
should the stewards stand? They are presumably men of a certain age,
some of them must be of a certain corpulence, and it seems to me a
refinement of cruelty that these faithful officials, of whom, I
believe, the respected Mayor of Henley is one, should be compelled to
refrain from seats during the whole of the Regatta. It may be necessary
for them to set an example of true British endurance to the crowds who
attend the Regatta, but in that case surely they ought to be paid for
the performance of their duties.
Thirdly, I have heard a good deal of talk about the Visitors' Cup. Being
anxious to test its merits, I went to one of the principal hotels here,
and ordered the waiter to bring me a quart of Visitors' Cup, and to be
careful to ice it well. He seemed puzzled, but went away to execute my
orders. After an absence of ten minutes he returned, and informed me,
with the manager's compliments, that they could not provide me with what
I wanted, but that their champagne-cup was excellent. I gave the fellow
a look, and departed. Perhaps this is only another example of the
asinine and anserous dunderheadedness of these crass provincials. Kindly
reply, _by wire_, about all the three points I have mentioned.
I have been here for a week, but have, as yet, not been fortunate enough
to see any crews. Indeed, I doubt if there are any here. A good many
maniacs disport themselves every day in rickety things which look
something like gigantic needles, and other people have been riding along
the bank, and, very naturally, abusing them loudly for their foolhardy
recklessness. But no amount of abuse causes them to desist. I have
puzzled my brains to know what it all means, but I confess I can't make
it out. I fancy I know a boat when I see one, and of course these
ridiculous affairs can't be boats.
Be good enough to send me, by return, at least £100. It's a very
difficult and expensive thing to support the dignity of your paper in
this town. Whiskey is very dear, and a great deal goes a very short way.
Yours sincerely,