_Friday._--Up with the lark. Time to return. Back again by a train. No food. No rest. Halfway home. Arrived in time to see the lights being put out. Off to bed.
_Saturday._--Up with the lark. Continued my journey post-haste. Wrote up my diary. Find that I have got over several hundreds of miles; but for the life of me cannot remember anything that I have seen. Don't recollect any square meal. Back again, tired, and only pleased to be in bed.
_Monday._--Up with the lark. Recovered from my week's "rest," and glad to get back again to work.
_MARE! Mare_! Most contrary, Why do you tumble so? While you heave and swell One can't feel well, And--I think I'll go below!
[Illustration: _Scientific and Nervous Visitor at Country Hotel._ "I suppose there's no 'ptomaine' in this pie?"
_Waiter_ (_equal to the occasion_). "No, sir. We never puts that in unless specially ordered!"]
[Illustration: DARTMOOR WAY.--_Tourist_ (_in background_). "I say! Percy! We'd better be going now--unless you can see anything striking from where you are!"]
[Illustration: SCENE--_Railway Refreshment Room. Thermometer 90° in the Shade._
_Waiter_ (_to traveller taking tea_). "Beg pardon, sir, I shouldn't recommend that milk, sir; leastways not for _drinking_ purposes."]
[Illustration: HALCYON PROSPECTS.--_Romantic Bride_ (_ecstatically_). "Such a waste of waters almost appals me!"
_Prudent Husband_ (_fondly_). "What a dear little economist it is!"]
[Illustration: _Tourist._ "Wasn't there a great battle fought about here?"
_Village Dame._ "Ah, I do mind it when I were a gell, I do. They was----"
_Tourist._ "But, my good woman, that was nearly six hundred years ago!"
_Village Dame_ (_unabashed_). "Dear, dear! How time do fly!"]
[Illustration: "And she only charged eight-and-a-half guineas, and"--(_Interruption from Husbands._ "Isn't the view marvellous!"
_General chorus in reply._ "Oh--er--_Yes!_")--"and now I simply go there for everything!"]
[Illustration: FRENCH AND ENGLISH (_as zey are spoke at ze country 'ouse_).--_Hostess._ "Oh--er--j'espair ker voos avvy troovy votre--votre--er--er--votre _collar stud_, barrong?"
_M. le Baron._ "Oh, I zank you, yes! I find 'eem on my _chest of trowsers_!"]
[Illustration: PERAMBULATORS NOT ADMITTED