I have known people thoughtlessly speak well of the luncheon-basket. In
my opinion, the luncheon-basket arouses the worst passions of human
nature, and is a direct incentive to deeds of violence. To say this is
to cast an aspersion upon the refreshment contractor, who is evidently a
man of touchingly simple faith and high imagination. Simple faith
assuredly, for does he not provide on the principle that our insides are
hardy and vigorous and unspoilt by the art of cooking? High imagination
most certainly, otherwise he would never call that red fluid by the name
of claret.
No, it is to the social rather than to the gastronomic influence of the
luncheon-basket that I wish to advert.
Once I procured a luncheon-basket and with it came the demon of
discontent and suspicion, converting three neutral people into deadly
enemies.
One was a pale young man who had been scowling over Browning and making
frantic notes on the margin of the book. Personally, I don't think it
quite decent for pale young men to improve their minds in a public
conveyance--but at any rate he had seemed harmless. Now he raised his
eyes and viewed me with undisguised contempt. "Wretched glutton," he
said in effect, and when accidentally I burned my mouth with mustard
(which a sudden swerve had sent meandering in a yellow stream across the
chicken and ham), he gave a sneering, callous smile, which reminded me
that a man may smile and smile and be a--railway companion.
I verily believe that youth to be capable of any crime, even Extension
lecturing.
Then there was a young lady reading a sixpenny Braddon, who viewed me as
if I were some monster; when I shut my eyes and gulped off
some--er--claret, she brought biscuits and lemonade from a small bag and
refreshed herself with ostentatious simplicity, as if to say, "Look upon
_this_ picture and on the wine-bibbing epicurean in the corner." An old
lady with her was more amply provided for (old ladies usually take more
care of their insides than anyone else in creation), but although she
munched sandwiches and washed them down with sherry (probably sweet,
ugh!) luxuriously, she looked with pious horror at my plates and dishes
spread out. I _might_ have said, "Madam, I eat frankly and openly; my
resources may be viewed by all. Your secret and delusive bags have
limitless resources that you are ashamed to show."
I didn't say so; but the restraint placed on myself quite spoilt the
lunch. No more baskets.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A FORTIORI
_Ticket Collector._ "Now, then, make haste! Where's your ticket?"
_Bandsman (refreshed)._ "Au've lost it!"
_Ticket Collector._ "Nonsense! Feel in your pockets. Ye cannot hev lost
it!"
_Bandsman._ "Aw cannot? Why, man, au've lost the _big drum!_"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "JUST OUT!"--(AT ALL THE LIBRARIES)
_First Young Lady._ "How did you like _Convict Life_, dear?"
_Second Young Lady._ "Pretty well. We've just begun _Ten Years' Penal
Servitude_. Some of us like it, but----"
_Old Lady (mentally)._ "Good gracious! What dreadful creatures! So
young, too!"
[_Looks for the communicating cord!_]
* * * * *
[Illustration: RATHER SUSPICIOUS
_First Passenger._ "Had pretty good sport?"
_Second Passenger._ "No--very poor. Birds wild--rain in torrents--dogs
no use. 'Only got fifty brace!"
_First Passenger._ "'Make birds dear, won't it?"
_Second Passenger ("off his guard")._ "You're right. I assure you I paid
three-and-sixpence a brace all round at Norwich this morning!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: FROM THE GENERAL TO THE PARTICULAR
_Young Lady (who has never travelled by this line before)._ "Do you go
to Kew Gardens?"
_Booking-Clerk._ "Sometimes on a Sunday, miss, on a summer's
afternoon!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A NEW RACE IN AFRICA.
Arrival of the Uganda express.
(Twenty minutes ahead of time.)]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A LITTLE FARCE AT A RAILWAY STATION
_Lady._ "I want one ticket--first!" _Clerk._ "Single?" _Lady._ "Single!
What does it matter to you, sir, whether I'm single or not?
Impertinence!"
[_Clerk explains that he meant single or return, not t'other thing._]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TWO VIEWS OF IT
_Brown._ "Shockin' thing! You heard of poor Mullins getting his neck
broken in that collision!"
_Jones._ "Ah!--it's as-tonishing how lucky some fellows are! He told me
'last time I saw him he'd just insured his life for three thous'd
poun's!!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: INJURED INNOCENCE
"Hulloa! _You've_ no call to be in here! _You_ haven't got a fust-class
ticket, _I_ know."
"No! I hain't!"
"Well, come out! This ain't a third-class carriage!"
"_Hain't_ it? Lor! Well I thought it _wos, by the look of the
passingers!_"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Guard._ "Some one been smoking, I think?"
_Passenger._ "What! Smoking! That's very reprehensible. Perhaps it was
the clerical gentleman who has just got out of the next compartment."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "NEM. CON.!"
_Chatty Passenger (on G. W. Railway)._ "How plainly you can see the
lights of Hanwell from the railway!"
_Silent Man (in the corner)._ "Not half so plain as the lights of the
train look from Hanwell!"
[_All change at the next station._]
* * * * *
[Illustration: RECIPROCAL
_Sporting Gentleman._ "Well, sir, I'm very pleased to have made your
acquaintance, and had the opportunity of hearing a Churchman's views on
the question of tithes. Of course, as a country landowner, I'm
interested in Church matters, and----"
_The Parson._ "Quite so--delighted, I'm sure. Er--by the bye, could you
tell me _what's won to-day_?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: RAILWAY LITERATURE
_Bookstall Keeper._ "Book, ma'am? Yes, ma'am. Here's a popular work by
an eminent surgeon, just published, 'Broken Legs: and How to Mend Them':
or, would you like the last number of _The Railway Operator_?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SATISFACTORY
_Bumptious Old Gent (in a directorial tone)._ "Ah, guard--what are
we--ah--waiting for?"
_Guard (with unconcern)._ "Waiting for the train to go on, sir!"
[_Old Gent retires._]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AN UNDERGROUND SELL
_First Passenger._ "They say they've put on detectives 'ere, to catch
coves as travels without tickets."
_Second Passenger._ "'Ave they? Well, all I can say is, _I_ can travel
as often as I like from Cannon Street to Victoria, and not pay a
'apenny!"
_Detective._ "See here, mate; I'll give you half-a-crown if you tell me
how you do it."
_Second Passenger (after pocketing the half-crown)._ "Well,--when I
wants to git from Cannon Street to Victoria without payin'--_I walks!_"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: QUITE UP TO DATE
_Cousin Madge._ "Well, good-bye, Charlie. So many thanks for taking care
of us!"
_Charlie._ "_Not at all!_"]
* * * * *