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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
On My Back.
ON MY BACK .
( Bv A SICK BROTHER . ) YES ; hero I am , my editorial friend—not of my " own free will and accord , " but by the advice of a medical practitioner , whom my friends cousider " eminent . " All that lean say is , that his physic is as nasty as any I ever purchased at a chomist's shop ; that the oil of tho liver of the cod , by which he orders me to be nourished , makes mo almost twist my head off my shoulders with
nausea ; and that his twaddle about diet aud regimen is " eminently absurd . But I am admonished to bo passive and obediont , as though these skinny lists and arms conld floor a seventeen-stone policeman " Then , " says my tormentor , " you may have a change of air and scene "—a remedy , it strikes me , these " eminent" gentlemen always fly to when thoy are convinced thoy cannot euro yon , and that , it
the patient must die , it is just as well , and perhaps better for them , if he performs that operation at a distance from home . However , I gulp down my fishy , oily draught , wriggle after it like a skinned eel , and sink into a fitful half-slumber . But in my dreams the fairies whisper in mine ears the magic promises of " a change of air and scene , " and in . the crannies of my brain there
open out , like port-holes in a three-deoker , panoramic reminiscences that follow each other in rapturous succession , flushing the cheek , and calling forth involuntary ejaculations , whioh seen passing strange , as coming from the parched lips of an invalid . I have read your sketch on " The Days when we go Gipsying , " and it brings to mind pleasant and fanciful recollections .
Do you remember the dear old times , when the heart was young , and budding success in life enabled us to enter upon the many p leasantries , as well as the duties , of the Craft ? When the " predominant wish of our heart" was granted to us by a worthy brother , whom we then gazed upon with astonishment almost bordering on adoration—and for whom a filial love still beats witbin onr
hearthow we longed to bound along the chequered Door , like a school-girl at her music , rushing into fantasias almost before she had mastered her gamut ! How the genial Past Master pulled us up by his parental wisdom , and reminded us of the caution which so impressed us in the initiatory stage , but which , in our excess of zeal , we had well-nigh forgotten ! How , when we had proved ourselves worthy ,
we were advanced through the gradations of our Lodge , and felt the flush of pride , at successive " visits , " by reason of the growing dignity bestowed by the jewel depending from our collars . Can yon easily forget the overwhelming sense of honour , and of responsibility , which palled upon you when you at length reached the goal to which all true MasonB aspire , and you were " duly greeted and
saluted , " as you first sat in the chair of King Solomon ? With what timid , but earnest , pride you instructed the brethren " below the chair , " and aired your eloquence (!) at the banquet table ? And with what a sense of relief you transferred the gavel to your successor , and passed into the serried ranks of " veterans , " with the Past Master's jewel glistening on yonr breast ? I need not recount ,
to those who know , the varying sensations of pleasure experienced in the various grades beyond , and who will all agree with me what a succession of agreeable surprises Freemasonry is . 0 tempora mutantur I But of " summer outings" I began to write ; and pardon my digres . sion . If Demosthenes junior lamented the increase of books as
tending to deprive the scholar of his literary omniscience , holiday , makers of the present day may with much better reason complain that the multitude of trips and excursions offered to the public have been the means of robbing him of much statute-made importance . Half a century ago , before such opportunities were afforded of p lea , sant excursions into the country or the seaside , before the " Maria
Wood " was , or the grounds of our great Palaces spread their allurements before the holiday crowds , the brethren of our Lodge thought themselves mighty swells indeed when they started off upon their summer pic-nic ! What a flutter of excitement among the wives and sweethearts , in anticipation of their share in the " privileges of the Order , " the " mysteries " of which they are ever longing to discover .
Such a packing-np of savoury viands , such a clatter of knives and forks , such a careful handling of dainty dishes , prepared by loving hands—none of your wholesale caterers in those days—and such a buzz and stir among the dear creatures in view of showing their devotion to the Craft , to say nothing of the rivalry always inevitable in the matter of millinery ! Down among the shady dells of Epping ,
the sylvan groves at Hampton , over the furzy slopes of Boxbill , the forest glades of Deepdene , and a score of Elysinms I could name , now rise before me , and I can almost hear the " ripple of mirth , " of which you speak , and see the " jewels and eyes , " & c , you so eloquently describe . But , as I have said , here I am , " cabin'd , cribb'd , confin'd , " by
" eminent" order , and can only toss from side to side , and dream of past delights . One " summer outing , " however , I remember distinctly , above all the rest , where the happiness of my life , Masonically and otherwise , was sealed ; and here a comely dame nestles close up and calls me " a dear , old sentimental thing ! " for recounting the event . It had
been decided to run down by boat as far as Gravesend , and what an undertaking it was in those days , on board a snorting tug , as we made our way along the windings of the busy Thames , and landed at the queer old jetty which served as a pier and promenade all rolled into one . How cosy the quaint old hostelry near the Customs Houso , ¦ which looked upon the tumbling waters of the Reach , and what a
bounteous repast was spread before us by the jolly old brother who presided over the inn and its greensward leading down towards th « margin of the river . I have been there many times since , bnt never did the place appear so serenely happy as it did that day . The banquet was held in a balcony facing the river , and at our feet tbe rippling wavelets of the Thames beat merry music against the old piles , in unison with our happy pulses . We had no " speeches " there , bolievo
On My Back.
me , for the day was too short for " post-prandial dallying . A drive , " over the hills and far away " over the Wrotham mount , and away to Farningham , with a speoially-prepared tea at the old Red Lion—who reigns over the historical house now I wot not—a dance upon the lawn , and homeward-bound again to Gravesend , to tender hearty good wishes to tho landlord , who treated us right royally , and even fired a
salute from the little cannon in his garden , a 3 our " gallant bark " snorted her way back again en route for London-bridge . Those times have changed ; we are too important now to content ourselves with primitive Gravesend , and its frugal afternoon teas of shrimps and watercresses . Leaving Masonry for awhile , aud speak , ing of modern holiday-making , is it not a fact that fashion and self .
importance have stopped in , and humble resorts so prized years ago , succumb to breezy Brighton or mangey Margate ? Bro . Smithers is successful in business , and takes his family to some London-on-the-Sea for a month . We , also , are prospering , and must follow suit ; otherwise what will Bro . Smithers think ? The boys , too , have grown bigger , and oan help us to row out upon the bounding sea ;
they oan vie with us in hauling up the shiny soles and grunting gurnets . No wonder that Brighton and Margate have become favourites since they have been brought so near home by contending railway companies ; but they are too " loud , " too rollicking and boisterous , for those who delight in enjoyments far from the madding crowd . Yet , after all , I question whether we extract more real happiness out
of our wider and more expansive range of travel than we found in the simple enjoyments of " Ye olden time , " all tbe more relished because they were the best we could afford . All said and done , to me Gravesend is the place to spend '' a happy day . " Now that the cheap trains are so frequent , and the river boats so swift and pleasant ; when a half-day may be utilised in combining
the business of home with the healthful recreations of the country , nowhere , according to my idea , can these advantages be so happily blended as at Gravesend . And I will , prove my right to say so . I have paoed the shingly foreshore as the moon has cast her silvery pathway across the Thames , whilst the dulcet strains of music have kept time with the flashing wavelets as they whispered a lullaby to
declining day . I have watched the devotees of fashion—or would-be such—who , in their brief , butterfly span of holiday , strut along the terrace walks , apeing the greater swells in their incessant caprices in the matter of costume . Simple tradesfolk , who look uncommonly well in their accustomed prints and hollands in the forenoon , with the bronze of health upon their visages , are trussed up with mar .
vellous and incongruous taste for the afternoon promenades ; while the evening hours , still raw and chill , even in the middle of this abnormal summer time , call into requisition a nameless variety of wraps and overalls , as the young folks draw closer together and whisper on subjects the purport of which it is not my business to inquire . One amongst the group stands prominently forth in my
remembrance—that girl with the pork-pie hat , out on one side of which peeps the white wing of a pigeon , emblematical of the dove inside the hat , which exposes one piniou and declares itself to be at peace . I afterwards find that the pork-pie hat is only an advertisement , and that its loud-talking owner ( a countess could not be made more fuss about ) "serves behind the counter" at a pork-pie shop
in Bermondsey , where they do a " roaring buz ' ness " after the pubs and music-halls are closed ! But , entre nous , there are a great many others who could be spotted in the same way , if we were only inclined to play the amateur de . tective . We have all our foibles , and when you go to Rome yon must do pretty much as the Romans do .
Faucy takes me to the offing of the Nore , where white-winged yachts gyrate amongst the cumbrous barges and bigger craft which are toiling , with wind and tide all in their favour , towards the docks ; whilst 'longshore the would-be sportsmen fire gaily , but without effect , upon the wild sea birds as they skim the waves in joyons freedom . Visions of gleeful hours passed upon the rippling river , as
we follow in our natty launch the yacht club gatherings from the pier , down past Erith and Southend to the Nore ; with our al fresco luncheon , as the swan-like beauties slant away and around the buoys . See the sturdy spritsail barges , in all the glory of their summer paint and ochre , and listen to the boisterous mirth of the " bargees , " with their wives and sweethearts , as they foot it to the cadences of
gleeful music on board the committee steamer ! This is a glorious time , spent once a-year by the hard-worked toilers on the Thames , and only a week or two back I read of the continued success of an institution which will , I hope , be long maintained . Who has not seen them sallying forth , dressed in their " best bibs and tuckers , " fully bent on pleasure and relaxation on the great carnival of the year ? Nor
will I be too censorious over their conversation , by the way , when , after the silver cups had been awarded , amidst comp limentary speeches , and the champagne had flowed freely—in whioh a party of " young ladies , " UDder the chaperonage of a stout mamma , had moderately participated—I detected a certain levity of style , a want of " feather , " only to be expected , just as when yon catch a moth
and examine the unfortunate insect after having crumpled it in your fist . Mincing maidens and sedate shop girls sometimes forget their reserve when on holiday bent ; and the Miss Tomkins ' s on an evening ' s cruise , and the Miss Tomkins's on the next afternoon on the Terrace-walk , could surely never have been the same individuals . Ah , me !
In my days , Gravesend was to me the dolce far niente of peacefu l enjoyment . No rude , rollicking cockneys , with their eternal ^ passion for equestrian exploits , to tbe utter disregard of the quietlydisposed ; no hawkers of indigestible whelks or shyers at cocoanuts ; no immodesty or rough horseplay such as shock the senses a every turnat some " resorts" I could mention where there 1
, , scarcely a redeeming feature in the way of refinement . In the gardens of the Clarendon , or at the windows of tbe Falcon and other good hotels on the river-side the visitor may sit and listen to the ne vibrations of the band upon the Terrace pier ; can watch the couu a and going of smartly-handled yachts , the scudding about of rowi » and pleasure boats , the passage of great ships as they go lumber ! g
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
On My Back.
ON MY BACK .
( Bv A SICK BROTHER . ) YES ; hero I am , my editorial friend—not of my " own free will and accord , " but by the advice of a medical practitioner , whom my friends cousider " eminent . " All that lean say is , that his physic is as nasty as any I ever purchased at a chomist's shop ; that the oil of tho liver of the cod , by which he orders me to be nourished , makes mo almost twist my head off my shoulders with
nausea ; and that his twaddle about diet aud regimen is " eminently absurd . But I am admonished to bo passive and obediont , as though these skinny lists and arms conld floor a seventeen-stone policeman " Then , " says my tormentor , " you may have a change of air and scene "—a remedy , it strikes me , these " eminent" gentlemen always fly to when thoy are convinced thoy cannot euro yon , and that , it
the patient must die , it is just as well , and perhaps better for them , if he performs that operation at a distance from home . However , I gulp down my fishy , oily draught , wriggle after it like a skinned eel , and sink into a fitful half-slumber . But in my dreams the fairies whisper in mine ears the magic promises of " a change of air and scene , " and in . the crannies of my brain there
open out , like port-holes in a three-deoker , panoramic reminiscences that follow each other in rapturous succession , flushing the cheek , and calling forth involuntary ejaculations , whioh seen passing strange , as coming from the parched lips of an invalid . I have read your sketch on " The Days when we go Gipsying , " and it brings to mind pleasant and fanciful recollections .
Do you remember the dear old times , when the heart was young , and budding success in life enabled us to enter upon the many p leasantries , as well as the duties , of the Craft ? When the " predominant wish of our heart" was granted to us by a worthy brother , whom we then gazed upon with astonishment almost bordering on adoration—and for whom a filial love still beats witbin onr
hearthow we longed to bound along the chequered Door , like a school-girl at her music , rushing into fantasias almost before she had mastered her gamut ! How the genial Past Master pulled us up by his parental wisdom , and reminded us of the caution which so impressed us in the initiatory stage , but which , in our excess of zeal , we had well-nigh forgotten ! How , when we had proved ourselves worthy ,
we were advanced through the gradations of our Lodge , and felt the flush of pride , at successive " visits , " by reason of the growing dignity bestowed by the jewel depending from our collars . Can yon easily forget the overwhelming sense of honour , and of responsibility , which palled upon you when you at length reached the goal to which all true MasonB aspire , and you were " duly greeted and
saluted , " as you first sat in the chair of King Solomon ? With what timid , but earnest , pride you instructed the brethren " below the chair , " and aired your eloquence (!) at the banquet table ? And with what a sense of relief you transferred the gavel to your successor , and passed into the serried ranks of " veterans , " with the Past Master's jewel glistening on yonr breast ? I need not recount ,
to those who know , the varying sensations of pleasure experienced in the various grades beyond , and who will all agree with me what a succession of agreeable surprises Freemasonry is . 0 tempora mutantur I But of " summer outings" I began to write ; and pardon my digres . sion . If Demosthenes junior lamented the increase of books as
tending to deprive the scholar of his literary omniscience , holiday , makers of the present day may with much better reason complain that the multitude of trips and excursions offered to the public have been the means of robbing him of much statute-made importance . Half a century ago , before such opportunities were afforded of p lea , sant excursions into the country or the seaside , before the " Maria
Wood " was , or the grounds of our great Palaces spread their allurements before the holiday crowds , the brethren of our Lodge thought themselves mighty swells indeed when they started off upon their summer pic-nic ! What a flutter of excitement among the wives and sweethearts , in anticipation of their share in the " privileges of the Order , " the " mysteries " of which they are ever longing to discover .
Such a packing-np of savoury viands , such a clatter of knives and forks , such a careful handling of dainty dishes , prepared by loving hands—none of your wholesale caterers in those days—and such a buzz and stir among the dear creatures in view of showing their devotion to the Craft , to say nothing of the rivalry always inevitable in the matter of millinery ! Down among the shady dells of Epping ,
the sylvan groves at Hampton , over the furzy slopes of Boxbill , the forest glades of Deepdene , and a score of Elysinms I could name , now rise before me , and I can almost hear the " ripple of mirth , " of which you speak , and see the " jewels and eyes , " & c , you so eloquently describe . But , as I have said , here I am , " cabin'd , cribb'd , confin'd , " by
" eminent" order , and can only toss from side to side , and dream of past delights . One " summer outing , " however , I remember distinctly , above all the rest , where the happiness of my life , Masonically and otherwise , was sealed ; and here a comely dame nestles close up and calls me " a dear , old sentimental thing ! " for recounting the event . It had
been decided to run down by boat as far as Gravesend , and what an undertaking it was in those days , on board a snorting tug , as we made our way along the windings of the busy Thames , and landed at the queer old jetty which served as a pier and promenade all rolled into one . How cosy the quaint old hostelry near the Customs Houso , ¦ which looked upon the tumbling waters of the Reach , and what a
bounteous repast was spread before us by the jolly old brother who presided over the inn and its greensward leading down towards th « margin of the river . I have been there many times since , bnt never did the place appear so serenely happy as it did that day . The banquet was held in a balcony facing the river , and at our feet tbe rippling wavelets of the Thames beat merry music against the old piles , in unison with our happy pulses . We had no " speeches " there , bolievo
On My Back.
me , for the day was too short for " post-prandial dallying . A drive , " over the hills and far away " over the Wrotham mount , and away to Farningham , with a speoially-prepared tea at the old Red Lion—who reigns over the historical house now I wot not—a dance upon the lawn , and homeward-bound again to Gravesend , to tender hearty good wishes to tho landlord , who treated us right royally , and even fired a
salute from the little cannon in his garden , a 3 our " gallant bark " snorted her way back again en route for London-bridge . Those times have changed ; we are too important now to content ourselves with primitive Gravesend , and its frugal afternoon teas of shrimps and watercresses . Leaving Masonry for awhile , aud speak , ing of modern holiday-making , is it not a fact that fashion and self .
importance have stopped in , and humble resorts so prized years ago , succumb to breezy Brighton or mangey Margate ? Bro . Smithers is successful in business , and takes his family to some London-on-the-Sea for a month . We , also , are prospering , and must follow suit ; otherwise what will Bro . Smithers think ? The boys , too , have grown bigger , and oan help us to row out upon the bounding sea ;
they oan vie with us in hauling up the shiny soles and grunting gurnets . No wonder that Brighton and Margate have become favourites since they have been brought so near home by contending railway companies ; but they are too " loud , " too rollicking and boisterous , for those who delight in enjoyments far from the madding crowd . Yet , after all , I question whether we extract more real happiness out
of our wider and more expansive range of travel than we found in the simple enjoyments of " Ye olden time , " all tbe more relished because they were the best we could afford . All said and done , to me Gravesend is the place to spend '' a happy day . " Now that the cheap trains are so frequent , and the river boats so swift and pleasant ; when a half-day may be utilised in combining
the business of home with the healthful recreations of the country , nowhere , according to my idea , can these advantages be so happily blended as at Gravesend . And I will , prove my right to say so . I have paoed the shingly foreshore as the moon has cast her silvery pathway across the Thames , whilst the dulcet strains of music have kept time with the flashing wavelets as they whispered a lullaby to
declining day . I have watched the devotees of fashion—or would-be such—who , in their brief , butterfly span of holiday , strut along the terrace walks , apeing the greater swells in their incessant caprices in the matter of costume . Simple tradesfolk , who look uncommonly well in their accustomed prints and hollands in the forenoon , with the bronze of health upon their visages , are trussed up with mar .
vellous and incongruous taste for the afternoon promenades ; while the evening hours , still raw and chill , even in the middle of this abnormal summer time , call into requisition a nameless variety of wraps and overalls , as the young folks draw closer together and whisper on subjects the purport of which it is not my business to inquire . One amongst the group stands prominently forth in my
remembrance—that girl with the pork-pie hat , out on one side of which peeps the white wing of a pigeon , emblematical of the dove inside the hat , which exposes one piniou and declares itself to be at peace . I afterwards find that the pork-pie hat is only an advertisement , and that its loud-talking owner ( a countess could not be made more fuss about ) "serves behind the counter" at a pork-pie shop
in Bermondsey , where they do a " roaring buz ' ness " after the pubs and music-halls are closed ! But , entre nous , there are a great many others who could be spotted in the same way , if we were only inclined to play the amateur de . tective . We have all our foibles , and when you go to Rome yon must do pretty much as the Romans do .
Faucy takes me to the offing of the Nore , where white-winged yachts gyrate amongst the cumbrous barges and bigger craft which are toiling , with wind and tide all in their favour , towards the docks ; whilst 'longshore the would-be sportsmen fire gaily , but without effect , upon the wild sea birds as they skim the waves in joyons freedom . Visions of gleeful hours passed upon the rippling river , as
we follow in our natty launch the yacht club gatherings from the pier , down past Erith and Southend to the Nore ; with our al fresco luncheon , as the swan-like beauties slant away and around the buoys . See the sturdy spritsail barges , in all the glory of their summer paint and ochre , and listen to the boisterous mirth of the " bargees , " with their wives and sweethearts , as they foot it to the cadences of
gleeful music on board the committee steamer ! This is a glorious time , spent once a-year by the hard-worked toilers on the Thames , and only a week or two back I read of the continued success of an institution which will , I hope , be long maintained . Who has not seen them sallying forth , dressed in their " best bibs and tuckers , " fully bent on pleasure and relaxation on the great carnival of the year ? Nor
will I be too censorious over their conversation , by the way , when , after the silver cups had been awarded , amidst comp limentary speeches , and the champagne had flowed freely—in whioh a party of " young ladies , " UDder the chaperonage of a stout mamma , had moderately participated—I detected a certain levity of style , a want of " feather , " only to be expected , just as when yon catch a moth
and examine the unfortunate insect after having crumpled it in your fist . Mincing maidens and sedate shop girls sometimes forget their reserve when on holiday bent ; and the Miss Tomkins ' s on an evening ' s cruise , and the Miss Tomkins's on the next afternoon on the Terrace-walk , could surely never have been the same individuals . Ah , me !
In my days , Gravesend was to me the dolce far niente of peacefu l enjoyment . No rude , rollicking cockneys , with their eternal ^ passion for equestrian exploits , to tbe utter disregard of the quietlydisposed ; no hawkers of indigestible whelks or shyers at cocoanuts ; no immodesty or rough horseplay such as shock the senses a every turnat some " resorts" I could mention where there 1
, , scarcely a redeeming feature in the way of refinement . In the gardens of the Clarendon , or at the windows of tbe Falcon and other good hotels on the river-side the visitor may sit and listen to the ne vibrations of the band upon the Terrace pier ; can watch the couu a and going of smartly-handled yachts , the scudding about of rowi » and pleasure boats , the passage of great ships as they go lumber ! g