[Illustration]
The man who got in at Blackfriars
Was smoking the foulest of briars,
But it went out all right--
Could I give him a light?--
Hadn't got one--well, all men are liars.
I've frequently noticed the Temple
Is a place there are not enough rhymes to;
And that's why I've made
This verse somewhat blank,
And rather disregarded the metre.
How _do_ you pronounce Charing Cross?
It's a point where I'm quite at a loss.
Some people, of course,
Would rhyme it with "horse,"
But I always rhyme it with "hoss."
A woman at Westminster Bridge
Had got just a speck on the ridge
Of her Romanesque nose.
"It's a black, I suppose,"
She observed. Then it flew--'twas a midge.
One man from the Park of St. James,
Had really the loftiest aims;
In the hat-rack he sat,
Used my hair as a mat,
And when I demurred called me names.
I bought from the stall at Victoria
A horrible sixpenny story, a
Book of a kind
It pained me to find
For sale at our English emporia.
I found when I got to Sloane Square
That my ticket was gone; my despair
Was awful to see,
Till at last to my glee
I looked in my hat--it was there!
* * * * *
'ILL-LUMINANTS!
["Sir E. WATKIN is about to introduce the Electric Light on
the summit of Snowdon."--_Daily Paper_.]
Just started up Snowdon by Sir E. WATKIN's combined Galvano-Electric
and Pneumatic Despatch Line, from Llanberis. Goes nearly to top. What
a blessing! Saved all the bother of the mount. Go in tennis-shoes, as
I'm told there's next to no climbing to be done.
Splendid day for view. Comfortable carriages. Hullo! what's this?
Find myself suddenly shot into a mountain tarn. A Yankee would call
it "tarnation cold." Get out dripping. Guard of train explains that
"battery must be rather too strong this morning." Train put on line
again. Up we go! Shivery. If I'd known this sort of thing went on, I'd
have brought towels.
At Terminus, three-quarters way up, in a bleak and exposed crag,
plastered with advertisements. Day not quite so glorious. Fog coming
on. Or is it "Scotch mist?" But what has a Scotch mist to do in Wales?
Ask engine-driver's opinion. He has none. "Then which is the way
up?" Doesn't know. "_His_ way is down." Must speak to Sir E.W. about
engine-driver.
Ascent continued. Leads down-hill. Curious. Sound of dashing waterfall
close by. _Must_ see it. Turn round a corner. No waterfall at all,
only the Electric-Light-generating station! Noise I heard was the
"machinery in motion." _Query_--does an iron shed with chimney pouring
out factory smoke, add to charms of wild scenery?
More surprises! Find an "Automatic Delivery" pillar! Curious sight
on a mountain. Put a penny in, and you get a small book--_Guide to
Snowdonia_. Thanks! But what I want is a guide to top. Fog worse than
ever. Believe I've missed my way.
_Five hours later_.--I _had_. Shoes utterly worn out. Awfully, tired.
Hit on top by mere accident. Resting in new hotel. Scrumptious, but
dear. Don't care! Electric Light. What system? Waiter says "Brush."
Must be 'air-brush up here, I fancy! Anyhow no good in a fog. Shall
suggest foghorn to Sir E. WATKIN for thick weather. Also guides
waiting at Crag Terminus. Bottle of beer. Divine! View? None, and
don't want any. More beer. Electric Light better than I thought.
Electricity is life. Electricity is also beer. More beer, please!
Waiter asks "if I sleep at top?" Beds only two guineas a night. Of
course I do! "Then shall he wake me for sunrise?" He'd better _not_.
Goo' night! Sowdn--mean Snowdn--great sksess.
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