(_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.
[Illustration]
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,