SCENE--Houseboat in a good position. TIME--Evening during "the Regatta week." PRESENT (on deck in cozy chairs)--He and She.
She. Very pretty, the lights, are they not?
He. Perfectly charming. So nice after the heat.
She. Yes, and really, everything has been delightful.
He. Couldn't possibly be better. Wonderful how well it can be done.
She. Yes. But, of course, it wants management. You know a lot comes down from town.
He. Will the stores send so far?
She. Yes, and if they won't others will. And then the local tradespeople are very obliging.
He. But don't the servants rather kick at it?
She. No, because they are comfortable enough. Put them up in the neighbourhood.
He. Ah, to be sure. And your brother looks after the cellar so well.
She. Yes, he is quite a genius in that line.
He. And it's awfully nice chatting all day.
She. Yes, when one doesn't go to sleep.
He. And, of course, we can fall back upon the circulating libraries and the newspapers.
She. And so much better than town. It must be absolutely ghastly in Piccadilly.
He. Yes, so I hear. And then there's the racing!
She. Ah, to be sure. To tell the truth, I didn't notice that very much. Was there any winning?
He. Oh, yes, a lot. But I really quite forget what----
She. Oh, never mind. We can read all about it in to-morrow's papers, and that will be better than bothering about it now.
[Scene closes in to soft music on the banjo.
AT HENLEY--"IPSE DIXIT"
["For a mile and a half the river was covered with elegant craft, in which youth was always at the prow and pleasure always at the helm."--Daily Paper.]
]
"THE SAILORMAN'S MENOO"
(To a Shipowner. By a Shell-back)
It's mighty fine, yer talkin', but you never done no trips In the bloomin' leaky foc'sle of yer leaky, rotten ships; And though you gulls the public with a sham Menoo for us, It isn't printed lies as makes provisions worth a cuss; And even silly emigrants will tell you straight and true That the test of grub is grubbin', not the advertised Menoo.
I'm talkin' now, not beggin' for a chance to starve and work In an undermanned old tanker with a skipper like a Turk; With a cook as larnt 'is cookin' when 'e 'ad to cook or beg, Or go into an 'orspital to nurse a cranky leg; And what I says I means it, and my words is plain and true, Which is more than any sailorman will say for yer Menoo.
I'll allow that in the look of it, the print of it I mean,
That all you say is sarved to us; but is it good or clean?
And wot's wet 'ash, or porridge, or any other stuff,
When at the very best of it there's 'ardly 'arf enough?
Not even with the cockroaches that's given with the stew,
Though I notice they nor maggots wasn't down in yer Menoo.
There's the tea and corfee talked of, but folks ashore ain't told That the swine as bought it for you winked 'is eye at them as sold. For sailormen's best Mocha was never further East Than a bloomin' Essex bean-field; and the tea ain't tea--at least It's on'y "finest sweepin's" from the docks, and wot a brew It makes when sarved in buckets to drink to yer Menoo!
The pork and beef on paper, or a tin dish, makes a show, But you'd want yer front teeth sharpened if you tackled it, my bo'! For the beef is still the ancient 'orse wot worked on Portland Pier, And the pork is rotten reasty, that was inwoiced twice too dear If they charged you 'arf a thick 'un for the whack you gives the crew, With the pickles and the butter set out fine in yer Menoo.
I'd like to take you jossers, as thinks as sailormen Is a grumblin' lot of skulkers, just one trip and 'ome agen; For when yer 'ands was achin' with sea cuts to the bone, And the Baltic talked north-easters, you'd be alterin' of yer tone, And might'nt think wot's wrote in print is necessary true, And perhaps when you was safe agen you'd alter our Menoo.
A TRIAL OF FAITH
Bertie (at intervals). "I used to---- What the---- do a lot of---- Conf---- rowing, one time!"
CRITICAL
Boatman (spelling). "P-s-y-c-h-e. Well, that's the rummest way I ever see o' spellin' fish!"
