THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL(三个闲逛的人)

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THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

THREE MEN ON THE

BUMMEL

by Jerome K. Jerome

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

CHAPTER I

Three men need change--Anecdote showing evil result of deception--

Moral cowardice of George--Harris has ideas--Yarn of the Ancient

Mariner and the Inexperienced Yachtsman--A hearty crew--Danger of

sailing when the wind is off the land--Impossibility of sailing when the

wind is off the sea--The argumentativeness of Ethelbertha- -The dampness

of the river--Harris suggests a bicycle tour--George thinks of the wind--

Harris suggests the Black Forest--George thinks of the hills--Plan adopted

by Harris 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

say that Ethelbertha had sent her to remind me that we must not be late

getting home because of Clarence. Ethelbertha, I am inclined to think, is

unnecessarily nervous about the children. As a matter of fact, there was

nothing wrong with the child whatever. He had been out with his aunt

that morning; and if he looks wistfully at a pastrycook's window she takes

him inside and buys him cream buns and "maids-of-honour" until he

insists that he has had enough, and politely, but firmly, refuses to eat

another anything. Then, of course, he wants only one helping of pudding

at lunch, and Ethelbertha thinks he is sickening for something. Mrs.

Harris added that it would be as well for us to come upstairs soon, on our

own account also, as otherwise we should miss Muriel's rendering of "The

Mad Hatter's Tea Party," out of Alice in Wonderland. Muriel is Harris's

second, age eight: she is a bright, intelligent child; but I prefer her

myself in serious pieces. We said we would finish our cigarettes and

follow almost immediately; we also begged her not to let Muriel begin

until we arrived. She promised to hold the child back as long 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

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

would make. A bachelor thinks a married woman doesn't know enough

to get out of 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 in the neighbourhood of the Austrian capital, and to make

reports. She said she would go with him; she was that sort of woman.

He tried to dissuade her: he told her that a mine was no place for a

beautiful woman. She said she felt that herself, and that therefore she did

not intend to accompany him down the shafts; she would see him off in

the morning, and then amuse herself until his return, looking round the

Vienna shops, and buying a few things she might want. Having started

the idea, he did not see very well how to get out of it; and for ten long

summer days he did visit the mines in the neighbourhood of Vienna, and

in the evening wrote reports about them, which she posted for him to his

firm, who didn't want them.

I should be grieved to think that either Ethelbertha or Mrs. Harris

belonged 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 tell

Ethelbertha that I have come to the conclusion a man never values

happiness that is always with him. I shall tell her that, for the sake of

learning to appreciate my own advantages as I know they should be

appreciated, I intend to tear myself away from her and the children for at

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 to you we

shall owe--"

Harris put down his glass rather hurriedly.

"If you don't mind, old man," he interrupted, "I'd really rather you

didn't. She'll talk it over with my wife, and--well, I should not be happy,

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

you said it was a mistake for a man to get into a groove, and that unbroken

domesticity cloyed the brain."

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

"I was speaking generally," I explained.

"It struck me as very apt," said Harris. "I thought of repeating it to

Clara; she has a great opinion of your sense, I know. I am sure that if--"

"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 sometimes

vexes me to notice. You would have thought he would have welcomed

the chance of assisting two old friends out of a dilemma; instead, he

became disagreeable.

"You do," said George, "and I shall tell them both that my original plan

was that we should make a party--children and all; that I should bring my

aunt, and that we should hire a charming old chateau I know of in

Normandy, on the coast, where the climate is peculiarly adapted to

delicate children, and the milk such as you do not get in England. I shall

add that you over-rode that suggestion, arguing we should be happier 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. We will

just take that chateau. You will bring your aunt--I will see to that,--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 it is you who

will have to play wild beasts. Since last Sunday Dick and Muriel have

talked of nothing else but your hippopotamus. We will picnic in the

woods--there will only be eleven of us,--and in the evenings we will 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 it

gracefully. He said that if we were mean and cowardly and false- hearted

enough 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, somewhat

illogically, that it really did not matter, seeing both Ethelbertha and Mrs.

Harris were women of sense who would judge him better than to believe

for a moment that the suggestion emanated from him.

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

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 the

very thing--one that we could manage by ourselves; no skulking lot of

lubbers loafing about, adding to the expense and taking away from the

romance. Give him a handy boy, he would sail it himself. We knew that

yacht, and we told him so; we had been on it with Harris before. It

smells of bilge-water and greens to the exclusion of all other scents; no

ordinary sea air can hope to head against it. So far as sense of smell is

concerned, one might be spending a week in Limehouse Hole. There is

no place to get out of the rain; the saloon is ten feet by four, and half of

that is taken up by a stove, which falls to pieces when you go to light it.

You have to take your bath on deck, and the towel blows overboard just as

you step out of the tub. Harris and the boy do all the interesting work--

the lugging and the reefing, the letting her go and the heeling her over, and

all that sort of thing,--leaving George and myself to do the peeling of the

potatoes and the washing up.

"Very well, then," said Harris, "let's take a proper yacht, with a skipper,

and do the thing in style."

That also I objected to. I know that skipper; his notion of yachting is

to lie in what he calls the "offing," where he can be well in touch with his

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 a stroke of unexpected luck; Ethelbertha had expressed a yearning

for sea air; and the very next morning, in taking up casually at the club a

copy of the Sportsman, I had come across the following advertisement:-

TO YACHTSMEN.--Unique Opportunity.--"Rogue," 28-ton Yawl.--

Owner, called away suddenly on business, is willing to let this superbly-

fitted "greyhound of the sea" for any period short or long. Two cabins

and saloon; pianette, by Woffenkoff; new copper. Terms, 10 guineas a

week.--Apply Pertwee and Co., 3A Bucklersbury.

It had seemed to me like the answer to a prayer. "The new copper"

did not interest me; what little washing we might want could wait, I

thought. But the "pianette by Woffenkoff" sounded alluring. I pictured

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

Ethelbertha playing in the evening--something with a chorus, in which,

perhaps, the crew, with a little training, might join--while our moving

home bounded, "greyhound-like," over the silvery billows.

I took a cab and drove direct to 3A Bucklersbury. Mr. Pertwee was

an unpretentious-looking gentleman, who had an unostentatious office on

the third floor. He showed me a picture in water-colours of the Rogue

flying before the wind. The deck was at an angle of 95 to the ocean. In

the picture no human beings were represented on the deck; I suppose they

had slipped off. Indeed, I do not see how anyone could have kept on,

unless nailed. I pointed out this disadvantage to the agent, who, however,

explained to me that the picture represented the Rogue doubling

something or other on the well-known occasion of her winning the

Medway Challenge Shield. Mr. Pertwee assumed that I knew all about the

event, so that I did not like to ask any questions. Two specks near the

frame of the picture, which at first I had taken for moths, represented, it

appeared, the second and third winners in this celebrated race. A

photograph of the yacht at anchor off Gravesend was less impressive, but

suggested more stability. All answers to my inquiries being satisfactory,

I took the thing for a fortnight. Mr. Pertwee said it was fortunate I wanted

it only for a fortnight- -later on I came to agree with him,--the time fitting

in exactly with another hiring. Had I required it for three weeks he

would have been compelled to refuse me.

The letting being thus arranged, Mr. Pertwee asked me if I had a

skipper in my eye. That I had not was also fortunate--things seemed to

be turning out luckily for me all round,--because Mr. Pertwee felt sure I

could not do better than keep on Mr. Goyles, at present in charge--an

excellent skipper, so Mr. Pertwee assured me, a man who knew the sea as

a man knows his own wife, and who had never lost a life.

It was still early in the day, and the yacht was lying off Harwich. I

caught the ten forty-five from Liverpool Street, and by one o'clock was

talking to Mr. Goyles on deck. He was a stout man, and had a fatherly

way with him. I told him my idea, which was to take the outlying Dutch

islands and then creep up to Norway. He said, "Aye, aye, sir," and

appeared quite enthusiastic about the trip; said he should enjoy it himself.

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

We came to the question of victualling, and he grew more enthusiastic.

The amount of food suggested by Mr. Goyles, I confess, surprised me.

Had we been living in the days of Drake and the Spanish Main, I should

have feared he was arranging for something illegal. However, he

laughed in his fatherly way, and assured me we were not overdoing it.

Anything left the crew would divide and take home with them--it seemed

this was the custom. It appeared to me that I was providing for this crew

for the winter, but I did not like to appear stingy, and said no more. The

amount of drink required also surprised me. I arranged for what I thought

we should need for ourselves, and then Mr. Goyles spoke up for the crew.

I must say that for him, he did think of his men.

"We don't want anything in the nature of an orgie, Mr. Goyles," I

suggested.

"Orgie!" replied Mr. Goyles; "why they'll take that little drop in their

tea."

He explained to me that his motto was, Get good men and treat them

well.

"They work better for you," said Mr. Goyles; "and they come again."

Personally, I didn't feel I wanted them to come again. I was

beginning to take a dislike to them before I had seen them; I regarded

them as a greedy and guzzling crew. But Mr. Goyles was so cheerfully

emphatic, and I was so inexperienced, that again I let him have his way.

He also promised that even in this department he would see to it

personally that nothing was wasted.

I also left him to engage the crew. He said he could do the thing, and

would, for me, with the help two men and a boy. If he was alluding to

the clearing up of the victuals and drink, I think he was making an under-

estimate; but possibly he may have been speaking of the sailing of the

yacht.

I called at my tailors on the way home and ordered a yachting suit,

with a white hat, which they promised to bustle up and have ready in time;

and then I went home and told Ethelbertha all I had done. Her delight was

clouded by only one reflection--would the dressmaker be able to finish a

yachting costume for her in time? That is so like a woman.

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

Our honeymoon, which had taken place not very long before, had been

somewhat curtailed, so we decided we would invite nobody, but have the

yacht to ourselves. And thankful I am to Heaven that we did so decide.

On Monday we put on all our clothes and started. I forget what

Ethelbertha wore, but, whatever it may have been, it looked very fetching.

My own costume was a dark blue trimmed with a narrow white braid,

which, I think, was rather effective.

Mr. Goyles met us on deck, and told us that lunch was ready. I must

admit Goyles had secured the services of a very fair cook. The capabilities

of the other members of the crew I had no opportunity of judging.

Speaking of them in a state of rest, however, I can say of them they

appeared to be a cheerful crew.

My idea had been that so soon as the men had finished their dinner we

would weigh anchor, while I, smoking a cigar, with Ethelbertha by my

side, would lean over the gunwale and watch the white cliffs of the

Fatherland sink imperceptibly into the horizon. Ethelbertha and I carried

out our part of the programme, and waited, with the deck to ourselves.

"They seem to be taking their time," said Ethelbertha.

"If, in the course of fourteen days," I said, "they eat half of what is on

this yacht, they will want a fairly long time for every meal. We had

better not hurry them, or they won't get through a quarter of it."

"They must have gone to sleep," said Ethelbertha, later on. "It will

be tea-time soon."

They were certainly very quiet. I went for'ard, and hailed Captain

Goyles down the ladder. I hailed him three times; then he came up

slowly. He appeared to be a heavier and older man than when I had seen

him last. He had a cold cigar in his mouth.

"When you are ready, Captain Goyles," I said, "we'll start."

Captain Goyles removed the cigar from his mouth.

"Not to-day we won't, sir," he replied, "WITH your permission."

"Why, what's the matter with to-day?" I said. I know sailors are a

superstitious folk; I thought maybe a Monday might be considered

unlucky.

"The day's all right," answered Captain Goyles, "it's the wind I'm a-

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

thinking of. It don't look much like changing."

"But do we want it to change?" I asked. "It seems to me to be just

where it should be, dead behind us."

"Aye, aye," said Captain Goyles, "dead's the right word to use, for

dead we'd all be, bar Providence, if we was to put out in this. You see, sir,"

he explained, in answer to my look of surprise, "this is what we call a 'land

wind,' that is, it's a-blowing, as one might say, direct off the land."

When I came to think of it the man was right; the wind was blowing

off the land.

"It may change in the night," said Captain Goyles, more hopefully

"anyhow, it's not violent, and she rides well."

Captain Goyles resumed his cigar, and I returned aft, and explained to

Ethelbertha the reason for the delay. Ethelbertha, who appeared to be

less high spirited than when we first boarded, wanted to know WHY we

couldn't sail when the wind was off the land.

"If it was not blowing off the land," said Ethelbertha, "it would be

blowing off the sea, and that would send us back into the shore again. It

seems to me this is just the very wind we want."

I said: "That is your inexperience, love; it SEEMS to be the very

wind we want, but it is not. It's what we call a land wind, and a land

wind is always very dangerous."

Ethelbertha wanted to know WHY a land wind was very dangerous.

Her argumentativeness annoyed me somewhat; maybe I was feeling a

bit cross; the monotonous rolling heave of a small yacht at anchor

depresses an ardent spirit.

"I can't explain it to you," I replied, which was true, "but to set sail in

this wind would be the height of foolhardiness, and I care for you too

much, dear, to expose you to unnecessary risks."

I thought this rather a neat conclusion, but Ethelbertha merely replied

that she wished, under the circumstances, we hadn't come on board till

Tuesday, and went below.

In the morning the wind veered round to the north; I was up early, and

observed this to Captain Goyles.

"Aye, aye, sir," he remarked; "it's unfortunate, but it can't be helped."

THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL

"You don't think it possible for us to start to-day?" I hazarded.

He did not get angry with me, he only laughed.

"Well, sir," said he, "if you was a-wanting to go to Ipswich, I should

say as it couldn't be better for us, but our destination being, as you see, the

Dutch coast--why there you are!"

I broke the news to Ethelbertha, and we agreed to spend the day on

shore. Harwich is not a merry town, towards evening you might call it

dull. We had some tea and watercress at Dovercourt, and then returned

to the quay to look for Captain Goyles and the boat. We waited an hour

for him. When he came he was more cheerful than we were; if he had

not told me himself that he never drank anything but one glass of hot grog

before turning in for the night, I should have said he was drunk.

The next morning the wind was in the south, which made Captain

Goyles rather anxious, it appearing that it was equally unsafe to move or

to stop where we were; our only hope was it would change before

anything happened. By this time, Ethelbertha had taken a dislike to the

yacht; she said that, personally, she would rather be spending a week in a

bathing machine, seeing that a bathing machine was at least steady.

We passed another day in Harwich, and that night and the next, the

wind still continuing in the south, we slept at the "King's Head." On

Friday the wind was blowing direct from the east. I met Captain Goyles

on the quay, and suggested that, under these circumstances, we might start.

He appeared irritated at my persistence.

"If you knew a bit more, sir," he said, "you'd see for yourself that it's

impossible. The wind's a-blowing direct off the sea."

I said: "Captain Goyles, tell me what is this thing I have hired? Is it a

yacht or a house-boat?"

He seemed surprised at my question.

He said: "It's a yawl."

"What I mean is," I said, "can it be moved at all, or is it a fixture here?

If it is a fixture," I continued, "tell me so frankly, then we will get some

ivy in boxes and train over the port-holes, stick some flowers and an

awning on deck, and make the thing look pretty. If, on the other hand, it

can be moved--"

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THREEMENONTHEBUMMEL1THREEMENONTHEBUMMELbyJeromeK.JeromeTHREEMENONTHEBUMMEL2CHAPTERIThreemenneedchange--Anecdoteshowingevilresultofdeception--MoralcowardiceofGeorge--Harrishasideas--YarnoftheAncientMarinerandtheInexperiencedYachtsman--Aheartycrew--Dangerofsailingwhenthewindisofftheland--Impossibility...

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