OVER THE SEA.
Dear Mr. Punch,—I read that two new cures for sea sickness have just been discovered: the one the eating of bananas; the other, found out by Professor Heinz, of Erlangen, who declares that the malady proceeds from the lobe of the brain, and that to avert it one has only to breathe freely. As to the Professor's theory about breathing freely, I can safely assert that I never open my mouth so wide as when crossing the Channel, but the experiment is an unpleasant failure.
Your obedient servant,
Dionysius Dabelrisk.
Peckham Rye.
At the Grand Hotel, Paris.—Blithers (of romantic turn of mind, to Smithers, after observing a young couple in close conversation in the court yard). I'm sure they're engaged. I heard her call him Harry!
Smithers (a matter-of-fact man). What of that? I call my housemaid Emily! He's most probably her footman.
[Smithers calls for absinthe.
Well Meant, But——. Motorist (with heated cylinders). "Where can I get some water?"
Rustic. "There beant noo watter hereaboots—but ye can have a sup at my tea!"
| A difficult pass | A kneesy climb |
| A smiling valley | A magnificent gorge |
By the Silver Sea.—Seaside. Tripper—none too clean in appearance—charters bathing machine. Smart-looking schoolboy (about to enter next machine), loq. I say, ma, I wish that dirty fellow wouldn't bathe here.
Mamma. Why, Tommy? If people of that sort were to bathe, they'd be as clean as you, you know.
Tommy (eyeing Tripper closely). Not in once, mamma!
