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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
VOL. 102
APRIL 30, 1892
MR. PUNCH'S HEBRIDEAN SALMON-FLY BOOK.
STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PEN-HOLDER.
(By Wullie White, Author of "They Taught Her to Death"
"A Pauper in Tulle," "My Cloudy Glare," "Green Pasterns in
Picalilli," "Ran Fast to Royston," &c., &c., &c.)
["I now send you," writes this popular and delightful Author, "the
latest of the Novels in which I mingle delicate sentiment with
Hebridean or Highland scenery, and bring the wisdom of a Londoner to
bear directly upon the unsophisticated innocence of a kilt-wearing
population. I am now republishing my books in a series. I'll take
short odds about my salmon-flies as compared with anyone else's, and
am prepared to back my sunsets and cloud-effects against the world. No
takers. I thought not. Here goes!"]
CHAPTER I.
[Illustration]
I held it in my right hand, toying with it curiously, and not without
pleasure. It was merely a long, wooden pen-holder, inky and inert to
an unappreciative eye, but to me it was a bright magician, skilled
in the painting of glowing pictures, a traveller in many climes, a
tried and trusted friend, who had led me safely through many strange
adventures and much uncouth dialect. "Old friend," I said, addressing
it kindly, "shall you and I set out together on another journey? We
have seen many countries, and the faces of many men, and yet, though
we are advancing in years, the time has not yet come for me to lay
you down, as having no need of you. What say you--shall we start once
more?" I hear a confused sound as of men who murmur together, and
say, "We have supped full of horrors, and have waded chin-deep in
Zulu blood; we have followed the Clergy of the Established Church into
the recesses of terrible crimes, and have endured them as they bared
their too sensitive consciences to our gaze. We pine for simpler, and
more wholesome pleasures. Now," I continued, "if only Queen TITA and
the rest will help us, I think we can do something to satisfy this
clamour." For all answer, my pen-holder nestled lovingly in my hand.
I placed my patent sunset-nib in its mouth, waved it twice, dipped it
once, and began.