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whether natural or artificial. Here the cheap
tripper loves to disport himself in the very

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cockleshellest of pleasure boats, frantically
urging the frail craft on its devious course
with uncertain stroke, heedless of the strict
injunction placed on boards round the lake,
'* Boats keep to the right." However, as the
water is only four feet deep, these erratic
mariners are not so very much to be feared.

The " dry-bobs,'* who do not care about trust-
ing themselves on the bosom of the vasty deep,
find a varied assortment of amusement pre-
sented by the fair on the sands. Solicitous
photographers, *' Try your weight!" "Try
your height ! " " Try your strength ! " try your
temper ; switchbacks, swings, roundabouts,
cocoanut shies, and every conceivable item that

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.seems essential to the happiness of the excur-
sionist are to be found here ; and beach artists
and photographers are as plentiful as grass-
hoppers — sandhoppers, I should say.

The first object to attract the visitor's
attention is, strange to say, a ship. In the
distance you see what you imagine is the name
" writ large " on the bulwarks. Raising your
glass to decipher the name, you read *' Refresh-
ments." This is the good ship William
Fishery whose captain, evidently of an in-
quiring turn of mind, one fine day, or one
stormy night, I forget which, ventured to
approach too close to the shore and found
himself fast on the ground. Resolving to wait
for the next flood-tide, he turned in, and when
he woke in the morning he found his ship high
and dry on the sands. This was two years
ago, and that flood-tide has never come ; but
the ship has since been bought up by an enter-
prising contractor, and now, under the cogno-
men of *'The Sands Museum and Refreshment
Rooms," does a thriving business — admission


The pier, gradually extended to keep pace
with the ever-receding sea, has now attained
an enormous length, stretching itself like a

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gigantic centipede across the waste of sand
between the sea and the shore. To traverse
this is quite a journey by the tram, which has
been constructed for the convenience of visit-
ors, and runs the whole length of the pier. If

matters go on like this, one may expect to see
Southport's splendid pier become a bridge
between the coast of Lancashire and the Isle
of Man.

But perhaps the most unique feature of
Southport is " dry-land sailing." This is ac-
complished through the medium of yachts, the
masts of which spring from a coffin-shaped
hull mounted on four wheels. In these the
visitor may sail through space undeterred by
visions of the perils and qualms of the deep,

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and the only rocks to be feared are the nurse-
maids with perambulators or the seaside don-

The bathing machines are few and far
between, and are to be discerned far off on
the horizon like scattered dots ; and Jack,
leaving his chosen one on the banks of the
Marine Park, bids her a fond adieu as he

ter all, the lake is

the great attraction, and the boat - owners
do good business ; so also do the photog-
raphers, who ply their trade on the banks,
and when you come across a boat close in
shore containing a motionless family group,
their faces pervaded with an angelic smile, you
have not far to look for the camera. The lake

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is a busy hive of pleasure-seekers, and perhaps

the happiest of
all are the groups
of laughing,
little children
who throng the
banks, indulging
in that ever
popular juvenile
pastime, pad-
dling. Here and there on the sands are sundry-
boards bear-
ing notices
which have
long since ful-
filled their
mission, and
with the ther-

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mometer at 80^ in the shade you are in-
formed that the ice is unsafe and will not
bear, when the very mention of ice makes
your parched, sand-baked mouth water.

Excavations are being carried on with the
purpose of making another Marine Lake, in
which the promenaders on the Esplanade take
the liveliest interest, although at its present
stage the work looks rather unsightly. Still

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the undertaking is a gigantic one, and worthy
of the master hand of Lesseps himself.

One would have thought the inhabitants of
Southport, with their magnificent Winter
Gardens, desired nothing more in the way of'
amusement resorts, but in the week I happened
to be there a splendid new theatre (attached
to the Winter Gardens) was opened with great
dcldt. Beautifully upholstered, lavishly dec-
orated, and brilliantly illuminated, Southport
theatre is qualified to stand in the very front
rank, and the inhabitants are to be congratulat-
ed on the possession of such a fine building.
But if I continue in this strain I shall lapse into
the familiar eulogistic guide-book style, which
I strenuously endeavor to avoid, though in this
case I could not omit the meed of praise.

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My dear M.^

Any port in a storm — but Southport. You
will see what I mean if you read my article in " Black
and White J' If you sailed within tzuo miles or so of the
landy your yacht ^ or whatever your vessel might bCy
would be left dry, if not high, on the sands, and would
be converted into a refreshment bar, or museum, or
have swings from the masts, or be utilized for one of
the t/iousand and one contrivances for the recreation of
the holiday-making Lancashire lads and lasses which
I show in my drawing of Southport in ^^ Punch''
This latter I did from the window of my room in the
hotel overlooking this festive scene. . . .

After two days here we summed up our courage,
determined to outdo all previous explorers of deserts,
and ventured across the trackless wastes of sand that

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stretch between Southport and the sea, I left a letter
on the hotel table to be forwarded to you in case I
never returned^ and we took a touching farewell of
the Professor^ who declined to leave his seat on the
front y as he had just been sent a copy of the " Newgate
Calendar'' as a birthday present ; besides ^ he thought
there might be a chance of forming one of an exploring
party afterward^ and feasting his eyes upon the specta-
cle of our two skeletons bleaching in the sun.

We fully realized the hazardous nature of our un-
dertakings so we provisioned and armed ourselves ac^
cordingly. We took with us —

L Two boxes of meat tablets. (We took these on the
strength of the advertisement, which assured
us that one of them would keep a farnily alive
for a month.)

2. One machine for distilling fresh water from salt


3. One mariner* s compass.
4^ One map of the world.

5. One patent tent, which could be used also as an

umbrella, a camp-stool, or a mosquito net.

6. Three dictionaries of foreign languages.

7. One medicine chest.

8. One Winchester repeater each, in case we used up

the meat tablets, or that advertisement about

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them should be an unscrupulous lie^ which

would compel us to depend on our guns for our


Thus equipped, we sallied forth, and after two days'

march we reached the end of the pier. Here we made

a careful observation by means of the sun and the
compass, and decided to strike out westward. After
marching steadily on for some time, we came across
what looked in the distance like a small pile of skele-
tons, and we shuddered to think that they were all that
remained of some former foolhardy explorers, and trem-
bled for our own fate. However, on closer inspection,

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they proved to be the remains of a bathing-machine.
I examined them^ and gave it as my opinion that the
machine was of Ancient British manufacture^ and
that probably our primeval ancestors used it when the
sea was a few miles further in than at present ; but
Mac brought his scientific knowledge to bear^ and said
No, that it was of the Roman period, and that, from
the appearance of the rust on the wheels, it had never
been near salt water ; so we came to the conclusion
that it must have broken down on the way to the sea,
and had remained there ever since. Besides, Mac
found close by, half buried in the sand, a bone^ which
he was sure, from the formation, was that of a bath-
ing machine horse ; so it seemed to point out that our
theory was correct.

Before we were quite out of sight of land we took
careful note of soine landmarks — an old booty an empty
beer bottle, a tinned beef can, and other " co7nmon ob-
jects of the seashore'' We came across a footmark —
one footmark ! How it was there was only one, at
first puzzled us considerably. Robitison Crusoe him-
self was startled by seeing a footmark, and it was not
a single one; but in our case we could see no trace of
a second, so we decided that we would not be honored
by a savage appearing and kissing our feet, but that
someone had dropped an old boot from a balloon, and

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that it had been picked up and carried off by some jack-'
daw that kept a collection of odds and ends.

The rest of ourjourtiey was uneventful^ except that
hunger came upon us, and we finished the meat tablets
in a few mouthfuls^ and were reduced to staying the
pangs of hunger with the contents of the medicine
chest. That advertisement is an infamous lie I The
meal we made off the medicine chest had a stupefying
effect^ which incapacitated us from further endeavors
to explore the Lancastrian Sahara ; so we made an-
other observation^ and directed our weary footsteps to
the Promenade y arriving just in time to dress for the
entertainment in the evening.

Nice appreciative audience^ thanks to the energetic
local manager y whose hands are always full with
dramatic performances^ but especially just at present^
as the new theatre has only been opened this week.
The large Winter Gardens are typical of Southport ;
for within their precincts all the indoor amusements of
the place are concentrated. In the new theatre just
mentioned Miss Kate Vaughan and company were
playing ifi " The Dancing Girly' yours truly enter-
tained the inhabitants with " The Humors of Parlia-
ment " in the Pavilion Theatre^ a promenade concert

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was being held in the large conservatory^ while a cir-
cus was doing good business in the grounds. I think
that next time I come to Southport I will deliver a recita-
tion in my entertainment^ entitled " Through Sandiest
Southport ; or^ How I Found the Sea'' Mac will ap-
pear as " Little Sandy " in the circus^ while the Pro-
fessor will impersonate the villain in " The Murder
in the Red Barn " at the new theatre. . . .

Yours^ etc.y

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The Spa and its Manager — A Contrast— The Jockey Postil-
ions—A Sketch after Leech— Familiar Figures on the
Spa— The \yielder of the Biton— A Band of Undertakers
— The Visitors* Daily Programme.


at different times

has been called


Scearburg, and

Scardeburgh. It

is a wonder it has

V e r been chris-

ned Spaborough,

the Spa is the chief

ture of the place,

d Mr. Francis

Goodricke, whose portrait
I give here, the well-known
manager of the Spa, is the chief person. A more

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Striking contrast than Scarborough and South-
port can hardly be imagined. Flatness in the
first-named place is unknown. Steep precip-
itous cliffs rear up their rugged heads on ei-
ther side ; in place of the long spkler-like pier,
there is a short, solid stone one ; the sea, in-
stead of being far away out, beats against
the promenade, and frequently dashes over it ;
and the class of visitors is of a different
tone altogether. Scarborough is well known
as the Brighton of the North ; Southport,
I should say, is the Ramsgate.

lias is popu-
larly supposed
to go to the
seaside with
her bevy of
daughters with
much the same
intentions as a
farmer takes his
little flock of
lambs to the
market — to dis-
pose of them to the highest bidder; and
the stranger, arriving at Scarborough for the

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first time, and meditating upon this point,
would doubtless think that here the market
is in a flour-
ishing state
indeed, for
there is a
gala-like X 1^
appearance r' ^ T
given to the ^ ^
streets by the equipages darting about in all
directions — the horses all bestridden by pos-
tilions clad in jockeys' costumes of all colors
of the rainbow. I well recollect that some
of John Leech's happiest sketches were done
in Scarborough, and that choice picture of his
of the portly invalid in the pony-carriage, say-
ing, '*Now these postil-
ions never seem to be un-
well ! Upon my word, I
" verily believe if I were to
change places with that
little chap I should be ever
so much better ! " still
lingers in my memory;
but I had an idea that
these postilions had vanished since Leech's day,
an idea that was soon dispelled when I arrived

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at Scarborough to find such numbers of them
flitting about. I saw a corpulent Jehu slum-
bering upon his box-seat, and made a sketch
of him — perchance this stout, middle-aged
individual was himself the diminutive postilion
of Leech's sketch !

But if the jockeys remain, the old Spa of
those times has disappeared,
with its crinolines and Dun-
dreary whiskers, and Phoenix-
like there has arisen from its
ashes the present noble struct-
I ure; and in place of Leech,
Sothern, and other contem-
poraries who frequented this
charming watering-place, and
whiled away the hours with
Be IPs Life and Harry Lor re-
quer^ we now find familiar
figures on the Spa reading
Black and White and Rudyard
Kipling's latest Lord Londesborough may
be seen chatting with Sir George Womb-
well about Mr. Blundell Maple's recent
big purchase of Common, in the hearing
of the Jubilee Plunger; Lady Ida Sitwell
is pensively contemplating the sea — I refrain

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from reperpetrating the worn-out joke to
the effect that her husband would ** sit
weir' again for Scarborough, but agree with
the spirit of it. Mr. James Payn is there
'* takkin' notes," and our dear old friend Toole
is fortifying himself with some fresh air for
the arduous undertaking of amusing the pub-
lic in the evening at the pretty little Spa

Th eatre. But
throughout the
season, year after
year, no figure is
better known than
the portly one be-
longing to Herr
Meyer Lutz, the
popular and
talented wielder of
the baton at the
>\jjvf \^^ > "-w^ -' Gaiety. One

"^ "comic man of a

paper" — to quote the Belfast press — seeing
Mr. Lutz and his merry band seated in the
stand all with tall hats on, remarked that they
looked like so many undertakers ; and really
it is impossible to find a better simile than
Mr. George R. Sims has done for the funny

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appearance of a circle of men on a sunny
morning at the seaside, each crowned with
the incongruous ** topper/'

As you look out from your hotel window
upon the bay, a pretty sight is presented by
the flotilla of brown-sailed fishing smacks,
some at anchor and some cruising about ; for
Scarborough is not a merely ornamental
watering-place, but a fishing centre as well,
and very picturesque do the tall, bronzed, big-
booted fisher-
men look as
they lounge
about the ^
quay, hands
in pocket,
pipe in mouth,

while their ^-i^=^- —

boats lie at anchor in the bay. They are
a fine lot of men, these well-built, sturdy
toilers of the deep at Scarborough, worthy
descendants of the hardy, old-time Northern

The visitors' daily programme varies little.
In the morning they visit the Spa, and listen
to the sweet music discoursed by Mr. Lutz's
band, or venturing on the ail-but perpendicular

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tramway, they are taken swiftly up the side
of the precipitous cliffs on their perilous
pilgrimage to Mr. Sarony's photographic
studio. The morning is soon whiled away
in this fashion, and the afternoon is general-
ly devoted to a drive round the charming
country surrounding the town. In the even-
ing the Spa is the attraction. Mr. Lutz and
his merry men are to the fore again, and their
music is greatly appreciated by the well-
dressed throng of fashionable people strolling
up and down the spacious promenade by the
sea — a beautiful scene on a still summer night.
Others can spend the evening in the theatre,
where there is always some amusement pro-
vided by the enterprising management, which
fully deserves the patronage so freely ac-

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My dear Jf.,

// is a funny things which I fail to under-
stand^ and of which I cannot get any explanation^ that
my " Humors of Parliament^ which is in no way a
party picture^ and which^ as you know^ is cu:cepted
equally by tite Radical^ Tory, Liberal, and Unionist
press, should be chiefly patronized by one party — the
Tories. Any stranger travelling with me might well
suppose that 99 per cent, of the people of Great Britain
are Conservatives, were he to judge only from my audi-
ences. As you know^ I hold the scales of political feel-
ing as equally as I can : if one side goes down at any
time, the other follows suit the next moment.

Since last writing you I have been to Derby,
Birmingham, Nottingham, and Sunderland ; and it
was in fear and trembling that at the first mentioned

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place I produced the massive form of Sir William
Harcourt before an excellent audience^ naturally com-
posed^ I thought, of his constituents, but the roar of
laughter with which the caricature was greeted rather
puzzled me, untillwas informed that there was hardly
a supporter of his in the place ; while at Sunderland
the much worshipped member and orator received me
with open arms, and bestowed upon me all the hospital-
ity in his power, but he drew the line at coming to the
hall in the evening to hear " The Humors of Parlia-
ment.^' Here again, had the Liberal member come, he
would have been in a minority in a hall filled with
supporters of the Opposition side, eiren in a town which
is always represented by a member of Mr. Storey's
advanced views, and so I have found it north, south,
east, and west. Perhaps on my next tour I shall have
the Opposition side, for whom I cater just as much,
and for zvhom I have just as much regard. Now here
in Scarborough, where people meet from all parts, my
audience is naturally not so one-sided. The genial
Frank Lockwood, with some high luminary of the law,
was sandwiched between two of the hottest Tories.
Speaking of sandwiches, I would say tliat there is
food for thought in the fact that Liberals and Radi-
cals fought shy of an entertainment which is sup-
posed to good-naturedly give them an insight into the

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Legislative Chamber they talk so much about ^ and in
which they take suck an interest. I have consulted
lots of people upon this point without being able to
unravel the mystery. I took the Professor into my
confidence tli^ other evening as he tuas packing away
the lantern and parapliernalia after the evenings per-
formance. He tliought deeply aiid he thought long,
and at last he said: ^^ Parliament, to tell you the
truth, isn^t much in my line ; but Fve often wondered
why you never show tJie House of Commons after the
dynamite explosion. And the ft tliere's that member
who s/iot himself on Hampstead Heath — t/iat would
make a splendid slide. I could fire a pistol from tlte
back, and you could writhe in supposed agony on the
platform. That would draw the other class ; and if
you want any more horrors — not humors — why * Vve
got Vw on my list / '" . . .

Yours, &c.,

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York — An Artistic Joke— J. L. Toole and the Native — Up the
River — A Clerical City — A Church-like Theatre — York as
a Commercial Centre.

ORK is famous for

three things — its

Minster, its Lord

Mayor, and its ham.

Its Minster is

second to none in

England, its Lord

Mayor takes pre-

of all others, and its

perhaps, are more

widely known and appreciated than either.

You need not go to York to taste its hams ;

few, I think, travel purposely there on the

chance of seeing its chief civic dignity ;

but the Minster must be seen to be admired,

and having admired it, and had a walk

round the walls, you arrive again at the

station, whence, if you be an average British

tourist, you will depart to fresh fields and

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pastures new. For those who are inter-
ested in antiquity, however, a few days will
hardly suffice to revel among the stones and
mortar of former generations.

Leaving the station, before going over the
river on your way to the Minster, the first
ohiert vou see is an ex-Lord
)n a pedestal. This
and last artistic joke
nd in this decorous
City. Why an old
n, who we are told
/^thing that was good
dable, should be
caricatured in stone
the city for which
did so much, is a
ret which is not
ulged. It is sad
)ugh to have re-
ded that the dear
man suffered badly
n gout in his feet,
** we are to judge
from the statue ; but it is too bad to have
published the fact that this benefactor of
York was also an inebriate — at least, it

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would not be complimentary to the sculptor
to think that he had imagined the old gentle-
man in a state of intoxication. To complete
the joke, when I came up I found a policeman
sadly contemplating the statue, evidently
^^_ thinking it was

high time it was
removed, and I
must say that I
concur with him

Perhaps it
is not in my
province to
dwell upon the
beauties of the
Cathedral, but
it is rather
strange I have
never heard
them discoursed
upon by anyone
with greater fer-
vency than by
the Prince of comedians, Mr. J. L. Toole,
whom I again accidentally encountered
when I was in York, You would think the

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people of York, with their Cathedral, had
quite sufficient in the way of places of worship.
But no; in addition to the imposing old
Minster, there are innumerable churches,
which you will find at every turn. Speaking
of this characteristic, Mr. Toole says that he
met a native of York, and asked him which
was his church.

" My church ? " says the mystified towns-

" Yes, your church," said Mr. Toole ; " I
thought there '
was a church J
to every inhabi-
tant in York?"

But, Hke the
young people
in Mr. D u
Manner's pict-
ure in a late
number oj
Punchy who go abroad to see the country, but dis-
cover a hotel with a good tennis-lawn, on which
they spend all their time, I, being passionately
fond of '* going up the river," early in the morn-
ing, got into a skiff, and passing under the grace-
ful bridge which spans the river close by the


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Minster, rowed quickly out of the town away
up into the peaceful upper stretches of the
Ouse. I may be excused on the ground that
this was not my first visit to the charming
old city, as on a previous occasion I had *'done"
the beauties of the Cathedral, walked the walls,
A la Blondin, and explored the quaint old
streets and shops ; but somehow a city or town
of antiquity in activity always inspires me with
a desperate longing for exercise and bustle,
so as an antidote I went off to
Sheffield. The inhabitants of
York seem so imbued with the
clerical element, that the greatest
activity shown by them is in
rushing off to services ; in fact,
j everything seems to be under the
shade of the Minster. Even the
theatre is built like a church. I
have not been inside, so I cannot
say whether the inside is in keep-
ing with the exterior, or if the
plays are limited to those model
pieces with moral objects by
Pinero or Henry Arthur Jones. The popular
member, Mr. Frank Lockwood, whose portrait,

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