Accustom yourself to food in tins and bottles, and learn to love insects with or without wings.

Acclimatise yourself to mists and fogs and rainy days, and grow accustomed to reading papers four days old and the advertis.e.m.e.nts of out-of-date railway guides.

Try to love the pleasures of a regatta. Do not quarrel with the riparian owners or the possessors of other houseboats. Enjoy the pleasantries of masked musicians, and take an intelligent interest in the racing.

Illuminate freely, and do your best to avoid a fire or an explosion. And if you have fireworks, don't sort them out with the light of a blazing squib or some illuminant of a similar character.

Be good, and mild and long-suffering. Rest satisfied with indifferently cooked food, damp sheets, and wearisome companions. And make the best of storms of rain and hurricanes of wind. In fact, bear everything, and grin when you can't laugh.

_Another and a better way._--Put up at a comfortable riparian hotel, and when the weather is against you, run up to town and give a wide berth to the Thames and its miseries.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A STORY WITHOUT WORDS Freddy's first day at Henley]

NAUTICAL MANOEUVRES

(_Described by a Landlubber_)

_Sailing in the Wind's Eye._--In order to accomplish this difficult manoeuvre, you must first of all discover where the wind's eye is, and then, if it be practicable, you may proceed to sail in it. It is presumed for this purpose that the wind's eye is a "liquid" one.

_Hugging the Sh.o.r.e._--When you desire to hug the sh.o.r.e, you first of all must land on it. Then take some sand and shingle in your arms, and give it a good hug. In doing this, however, be careful no one sees you, or the result of the manoeuvre may be a strait-waistcoat.

_Wearing a Ship._--This it is by no means an easy thing to do, and it is difficult to suggest what will make it easier. Wearing a chignon is preposterous enough, but when a man is told that he must wear a ship, he would next expect to hear that he must eat the Monument.

_Boxing the Compa.s.s._--a.s.sume a fighting att.i.tude, and hit the compa.s.s a "smart stinger on the dial-plate," as the sporting papers call it. But before you do so, you had best take care to have your boxing-gloves on, or you may hurt your fingers.

_Whistling for a Wind._--When you whistle for a wind, you should choose an air appropriate, such as "_Blow, gentle gales_," or "_Winds, gently whisper_."

_Reefing the Lee-scuppers._--First get upon a reef, and then put your lee-scuppers on it. The manoeuvre is so simple, that no more need be said of it.

_Splicing the Main-brace._--When your main-brace comes in pieces, get a needle and thread and splice it. If it be your custom to wear a pair of braces, you first must ascertain which of them _is_ your main one.

A DELICATE HINT.--_Brighton Boatman._ "There's a wessel out there, sir, a labourin' a good deal, sir! Ah, sir, sailors works werry 'ard--precious 'ard lines it is for the poor fellers out there!--Precious hard it is for everybody just now. I know _I_ should like the price of a pint o' beer and a bit o' bacca!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: SCENE--A quiet nook, five miles off anywhere. Jones has gone down to the punt to fetch up the luncheon-basket, and has dropped it overboard.

PUZZLE.--What to do--or say?--except----]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE ANCHOR'S WEIGHED"

(Sketched on an excursion steamer)]

WHAT NO ONE SHOULD FORGET, IN CROSSING THE CHANNEL

To place his rugs, carpet-bags, and umbrellas on the six best seats on the boat.

To worry the captain with remarks about the state of the weather and the performance of the steamer: to observe to the steward that there is a change in the weather, and that there were more pa.s.sengers the last time he crossed.

To speak to the man at the wheel, and ask him whether there was much sea on last trip.

To change his last half-crown into French money, and squabble with the steward as to the rate of exchange.

To stare at his neighbours, read aloud their names on their luggage, and remark audibly that he'll lay anything the lady with the slight tw.a.n.g is an American.

To repeat the ancient joke on "Back her! stop her!"

If the pa.s.sage is rough, to put his feet on his neighbour's head, after appropriating all the cushions in the cabin.

To call for crockery in time. N.B.--Most important.

To groan furiously for an hour and a half, if a sufferer; or, if utterly callous to waves and their commotions, to eat beef and ham, and drink porter and brandy-and-water, during the entire voyage, with as much clattering of forks and noise of mastication as is compatible with enjoyment.

To kiss his hand, on entering the harbour, to the _matelottes_ on the quays, or send his love in bad French to the Prefect of Police.

To struggle for a front place, in crowding off the steamer, as if the ship was on fire. And finally--

To answer every one who addresses him in good English in the worst possible French.

"What with the horse-boats," said Mrs. Ramsbotham, "the steam-lunches, the condolers, the out-ragers, the Canadian caboose, and the banyans, we had the greatest difficulty, at Henley, in getting from one side of the river to the other."

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOUSEBOAT AT THE ANCIENT HENLEIAN GAMES]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "CENTIPEDE"

A new flexible, patent-jointed, vertebral outrigger. (Seen--and drawn--by our artist (the festive one), after an unusually scrumptious lunch on board a houseboat at Henley).]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INFLUENCE OF PLACES

_Egeria._ "Surely, Mr. Swinson, it must have been here, and on such a day as this, that you wrote those lines that end--

"'Give me the white-maned steeds to ride, The Arabs of the main'----wasn't it?"