Three men on the bummelJerome, Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka)
General
Three men on the bummel
Jerome, Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka)
Bicycle touring -- Fiction; Black Forest (Germany) -- Fiction; British -- Germany -- Fiction; Humorous stories
George said: "I should not show temper over the matter, if I were you.
There will come a day, perhaps not far distant, when that bicycle, with a
couple of mountains between it and the nearest repairing shop, will, in
spite of your chronic desire for rest, _have_ to be overhauled. Then you
will clamour for people to tell you where you put the oil-can, and what
you have done with the screw-hammer. Then, while you exert yourself
holding the thing steady against a tree, you will suggest that somebody
else should clean the chain and pump the back wheel."
I felt there was justice in George's rebuke--also a certain amount of
prophetic wisdom. I said:
"Forgive me if I seemed unresponsive. The truth is, Harris was round
here this morning--"
George said: "Say no more; I understand. Besides, what I came to talk to
you about was another matter. Look at that."
He handed me a small book bound in red cloth. It was a guide to English
conversation for the use of German travellers. It commenced "On a Steam-
boat," and terminated "At the Doctor's"; its longest chapter being
devoted to conversation in a railway carriage, among, apparently, a
compartment load of quarrelsome and ill-mannered lunatics: "Can you not
get further away from me, sir?"--"It is impossible, madam; my neighbour,
here, is very stout"--"Shall we not endeavour to arrange our
legs?"--"Please have the goodness to keep your elbows down"--"Pray do not
inconvenience yourself, madam, if my shoulder is of any accommodation to
you," whether intended to be said sarcastically or not, there was nothing
to indicate--"I really must request you to move a little, madam, I can
hardly breathe," the author's idea being, presumably, that by this time
the whole party was mixed up together on the floor. The chapter
concluded with the phrase, "Here we are at our destination, God be
thanked! (_Gott sei dank_!)" a pious exclamation, which under the
circumstances must have taken the form of a chorus.
At the end of the book was an appendix, giving the German traveller hints
concerning the preservation of his health and comfort during his sojourn
in English towns, chief among such hints being advice to him to always
travel with a supply of disinfectant powder, to always lock his bedroom
door at night, and to always carefully count his small change.
"It is not a brilliant publication," I remarked, handing the book back to
George; "it is not a book that personally I would recommend to any German
about to visit England; I think it would get him disliked. But I have
read books published in London for the use of English travellers abroad
every whit as foolish. Some educated idiot, misunderstanding seven
languages, would appear to go about writing these books for the
misinformation and false guidance of modern Europe."
"You cannot deny," said George, "that these books are in large request.
They are bought by the thousand, I know. In every town in Europe there
must be people going about talking this sort of thing."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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