Volume 107 — WHITHER AWAY?
Reading edition
Must it be Margate? Shall it be Dover? How hit the target, Spend summer in clover? Why not to Filey Flit, or to Yarmouth? Will the Welsh rile me If I try Barmouth? South Coast's entrancing, East builds and braces; Blue waves are dancing At hundreds of places! Soon must I settle, Unless I'm a craven, And grasping the nettle Decide on a haven. Fine hills at Malvern; Harrogate haunts me; Lynmouth is all fern; What is it daunts me? Well, to speak truly, There's no place like London, In March or in July, When well, or when run down! Train in a twinkling Brightonward bears me; If I want sprinkling In the face a "chute" stares me. Summer's delightful In Town—nerves feel regal; Cabbies not spiteful Offered what's legal! Yes, I'll take holiday When it grows chilly; Why at this jolly day Flee Piccadilly? Is the end vapid? Can't help it!—Next snow-time By "P. L. M. Rapide" I reach Nice in no time!
Beware!—As wood pavement is said to be injurious to throats, specially in summer time, it would be advisable not to reside in the Northern district, as the roads there must be all St. John's Wood pavement.
PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
It is quite a mistake to suppose that Henley Regatta was not anticipated in Earliest Times.