Three Men on the Bummel by Jerome K. Jerome. 1914 J. W. Arrowsmithedition. Scanned and proofed by David Price, email
[email protected] THREE MEN ON THE BUMMELby JEROME K. JEROME
_Illustrated by L. Raven Hill_
A NEW EDITION
BRISTOLJ. W. ARROWSMITH LTD., QUAY STREETLONDONSIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT AND CO. LIMITED1914
TO THE GENTLE
GUIDE
WHO LETS ME EVER GO MY OWN WAY, YET BRINGS ME RIGHT--
TO THE LAUGHTER-LOVING
PHILOSOPHER
WHO, IF HE HAS NOT RECONCILED ME TO BEARING THE TOOTHACHEPATENTLY, AT LEAST HAS TAUGHT ME THE COMFORT THATTHIS EVEN WILL ALSO PASS--
TO THE GOOD
FRIEND
WHO SMILES WHEN I TELL HIM OF MY TROUBLES, AND WHOWHEN I ASK FOR HELP, ANSWERS ONLY "WAIT!"--
TO THE GRAVE-FACED
JESTER
TO WHOM ALL LIFE IS BUT A VOLUME OF OLD HUMOUR--
TO GOOD MASTER
Time
THIS LITTLE WORK OF A POOR
PUPIL
IS DEDICATED
CHAPTER I
Three men need change--Anecdote showing evil result of deception--Moralcowardice of George--Harris has ideas--Yarn of the Ancient Mariner andthe Inexperienced Yachtsman--A hearty crew--Danger of sailing when thewind is off the land--Impossibility of sailing when the wind is off thesea--The argumentativeness of Ethelbertha--The dampness of theriver--Harris suggests a bicycle tour--George thinks of the wind--Harrissuggests the Black Forest--George thinks of the hills--Plan adopted byHarris for ascent of hills--Interruption by Mrs. Harris.
"What we want," said Harris, "is a change."
At this moment the door opened, and Mrs. Harris put her head in to saythat Ethelbertha had sent her to remind me that we must not be lategetting home because of Clarence. Ethelbertha, I am inclined to think,is unnecessarily nervous about the children. As a matter of fact, therewas nothing wrong with the child whatever. He had been out with his auntthat morning; and if he looks wistfully at a pastrycook's window shetakes him inside and buys him cream buns and "maids-of-honour" until heinsists that he has had enough, and politely, but firmly, refuses to eatanother anything. Then, of course, he wants only one helping of puddingat lunch, and Ethelbertha thinks he is sickening for something. Mrs.Harris added that it would be as well for us to come upstairs soon, onour own account also, as otherwise we should miss Muriel's rendering of"The Mad Hatter's Tea Party," out of _Alice in Wonderland_. Muriel isHarris's second, age eight: she is a bright, intelligent child; but Iprefer her myself in serious pieces. We said we would finish ourcigarettes and follow almost immediately; we also begged her not to letMuriel begin until we arrived. She promised to hold the child back aslong as possible, and went. Harris, as soon as the door was closed,resumed his interrupted sentence.
"You know what I mean," he said, "a complete change."
The question was how to get it.
George suggested "business." It was the sort of suggestion George wouldmake. A bachelor thinks a married woman doesn't know enough to get outof the way of a steam-roller. I knew a young fellow once, an engineer,who thought he would go to Vienna "on business." His wife wanted to know"what business?" He told her it would be his duty to visit the mines inthe neighbourhood of the Austrian capital, and to make reports. She saidshe would go with him; she was that sort of woman. He tried to dissuadeher: he told her that a mine was no place for a beautiful woman. Shesaid she felt that herself, and that therefore she did not intend toaccompany him down the shafts; she would see him off in the morning, andthen amuse herself until his return, looking round the Vienna shops, andbuying a few things she might want. Having started the idea, he did notsee very well how to get out of it; and for ten long summer days he didvisit the mines in the neighbourhood of Vienna, and in the evening wrotereports about them, which she posted for him to his firm, who didn't wantthem.
I should be grieved to think that either Ethelbertha or Mrs. Harrisbelonged to that class of wife, but it is as well not to overdo"business"--it should be kept for cases of real emergency.
"No," I said, "the thing is to be frank and manly. I shall tellEthelbertha that I have come to the conclusion a man never valueshappiness that is always with him. I shall tell her that, for the sakeof learning to appreciate my own advantages as I know they should beappreciated, I intend to tear myself away from her and the children forat least three weeks. I shall tell her," I continued, turning to Harris,"that it is you who have shown me my duty in this respect; that it is toyou we shall owe--"
Harris put down his glass rather hurriedly.
"If you don't mind, old man," he interrupted, "I'd really rather youdidn't. She'll talk it over with my wife, and--well, I should not behappy, taking credit that I do not deserve."
"But you do deserve it," I insisted; "it was your suggestion."
"It was you gave me the idea," interrupted Harris again. "You know yousaid it was a mistake for a man to get into a groove, and that unbrokendomesticity cloyed the brain."
"I was speaking generally," I explained.
"It struck me as very apt," said Harris. "I thought of repeating it toClara; she has a great opinion of your sense, I know. I am sure thatif--"
"We won't risk it," I interrupted, in my turn; "it is a delicate matter,and I see a way out of it. We will say George suggested the idea."
There is a lack of genial helpfulness about George that it sometimesvexes me to notice. You would have thought he would have welcomed thechance of assisting two old friends out of a dilemma; instead, he becamedisagreeable.
"You do," said George, "and I shall tell them both that my original planwas that we should make a party--children and all; that I should bring myaunt, and that we should hire a charming old chateau I know of inNormandy, on the coast, where the climate is peculiarly adapted todelicate children, and the milk such as you do not get in England. Ishall add that you over-rode that suggestion, arguing we should behappier by ourselves."
With a man like George kindness is of no use; you have to be firm.
"You do," said Harris, "and I, for one, will close with the offer. Wewill just take that chateau. You will bring your aunt--I will see tothat,--and we will have a month of it. The children are all fond of you;J. and I will be nowhere. You've promised to teach Edgar fishing; and itis you who will have to play wild beasts. Since last Sunday Dick andMuriel have talked of nothing else but your hippopotamus. We will picnicin the woods--there will only be eleven of us,--and in the evenings wewill have music and recitations. Muriel is master of six pieces already,as perhaps you know; and all the other children are quick studies."
George climbed down--he has no real courage--but he did not do itgracefully. He said that if we were mean and cowardly and false-heartedenough to stoop to such a shabby trick, he supposed he couldn't help it;and that if I didn't intend to finish the whole bottle of claret myself,he would trouble me to spare him a glass. He also added, somewhatillogically, that it really did not matter, seeing both Ethelbertha andMrs. Harris were women of sense who would judge him better than tobelieve for a moment that the suggestion emanated from him.
This little point settled, the question was: What sort of a change?
Harris, as usual, was for the sea. He said he knew a yacht, just thevery thing--one that we could manage by ourselves; no skulking lot oflubbers loafing about, adding to the expense and taking away from theromance. Give him a handy boy, he would sail it himself. We knew thatyacht, and we told him so; we had been on it with Harris before. Itsmells of bilge-water and greens to the exclusion of all other scents; noordinary sea air can hope to head against it. So far as sense of smellis concerned, one might be spen
ding a week in Limehouse Hole. There isno place to get out of the rain; the saloon is ten feet by four, and halfof that is taken up by a stove, which falls to pieces when you go tolight it. You have to take your bath on deck, and the towel blowsoverboard just as you step out of the tub. Harris and the boy do all theinteresting work--the lugging and the reefing, the letting her go and theheeling her over, and all that sort of thing,--leaving George and myselfto do the peeling of the potatoes and the washing up.
"Very well, then," said Harris, "let's take a proper yacht, with askipper, and do the thing in style."
That also I objected to. I know that skipper; his notion of yachting isto lie in what he calls the "offing," where he can be well in touch withhis wife and family, to say nothing of his favourite public-house.
Years ago, when I was young and inexperienced, I hired a yacht myself.Three things had combined to lead me into this foolishness: I had had astroke of unexpected luck; Ethelbertha had expressed a yearning for seaair; and the very next morning, in taking up casually at the club a copyof the _Sportsman_, I had come across the following advertisement:--