* * * * * [Illustration: HOUSEBOAT AT THE ANCIENT HENLEIAN GAMES] * * * * * [Illustration: 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).] * * * * * [Illustration: 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?" _Mr. Swinson_ (_faintly_). "N-no. Reading party--half-way up Matterhorn!"] * * * * * THE SILVER TEMS! The butiful River's a-running to Town, It never runs up, but allers runs down, Weather it rains, or weather it snos; And where it all cums from, noboddy nose. The young swell Boatmen drest in white, To their Mothers' arts must be a delite; At roein or skullin the gals is sutch dabs, For they makes no Fowls and they ketches no Crabs. The payshent hangler sets in a punt, Willee ketch kold? I hopes as he wunt. I wotches him long, witch I states is fax, He dont ketch nothin but Ticklebacks. The prudent Ferryman sets under cover, Waiting to take me from one shore to t'other; I calls out "Hover!" and hover he roes, If he aint sober then hover we goes. When it's poring with rane and a tempest a-blowin, A penny don't seem mutch for this here rowin; And wen the River's as ruff as the Sea, I thinks of the two I'd sooner be me. For when I'm at work at Ampton or Lea, Waitin at dinner, or waitin at tea, I gits as much from a yewthful Pair As he gits in a day for all that there. Then let me bless my lucky Star That made me a Waiter and not a Tar; And the werry nex time I've a glass of old Sherry, I'll drink to the pore chap as roes that 'ere Ferry. ROBERT. * * * * * VERY LOW FORM ON THE PART OF FATHER THAMES. _Boy_ (_standing in mid-stream at Kew, to boating party_). "'Ere ye are! Tow ye up to Richmond Lock! All by water, sir!" * * * * * PUNCH'S NAVAL SONGSTER It is a well-known fact that the songs of Dibdin had a wonderful effect on the courage of the Navy, and there is no doubt that the Ben Blocks, Ben Backstays, Tom Tackles, and Tom Bowlings, were, poetically speaking, the fathers of our Nelsons, our Howes, our St. Vincents, and our Codringtons. It will be the effort of _Punch's Naval Songster_ to do for the Thames what Dibdin did for the Sea, and to inspire with courage those honest-hearted fellows who man the steamers on the river. If we can infuse a little spirit into them--which, by the bye, they greatly want--our aim will be fully answered. [Illustration] NO. I.--IT BLEW GREAT GUNS