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Europe Revised

Europe Revised

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Chapter 1 We Are Going Away From Here

Word Count: 3534    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

ewo

made a specialty of facts-have abounded in them; facts to be found on every page and in every paragraph. Reading such a work, you imagine that the beso

hings, like stubborn people, are frequently tiresome. So it occurred to me that possibly there might be room for a guidebook on foreign travel which would not have a single indubitable fact conce

be controverted. Communications from parties desiring to controvert this or that assertion will be considered in the order rec

he first subject, which is The Sea: Its Habits and Pecu

ove. As a matter of fact I experienced no trouble whatever in getting my sea legs. They were my regular legs, the same ones I use on land. It was my sea stomach that caused all the bother. First I w

er it will talk on steadily, with a measured and a regular voice; but now it is heard frequently, yet intermittently, like the click of a blind man's cane. Beneath your feet the ship, which has seemed until this mome

e seems to feel the thril

nd. You have examined your stateroom, with its hot and cold decorations, its running stewardess, its all-night throb service, and its windows overlooking the Hudson-a stateroom that seemed so large and commodious until you put one small submissive stea

the dock that is moving and the ship that is standing still. All about you your fellow passengers crowd the rails, waving and shouting messages to the people on the dock; the people on th

in sight is a gorgeous, gold-laced creature standing on the outermost gunwale of the dock, wearing the kind of uniform that a rear admiral of the Swiss navy would wear-if the Swiss had any navy-and holding a speaking trumpet in his hand. This person is not excited,

ate a siren whistle with his face, suddenly twines his hands about his mouth and lets go a terrifi

shoreline, distinguishable only by the black dot of watchers clustered under a battery of lights, like a swarm of hiving bees. Out in midstream the tugs, whi

ing through the harbor mists, you behold the statue of Miss Liberty, in her popular specialty of enlightening the world. So you go below and t

ng the long, soothing snores that for five days and nights she was to continue drawing without cessation. There were so many things to thi

ays caught cold at sea. I was to tip only those who served me. I was to tip all hands in moderation, whether they served me or not. If I felt squeamish I was to do the fol

litary thing in Europe. Well, I did both-I saw Naples; and now I should not miss Naples if I never saw it again, and I do not think I shall

s promenade together, giving to the decks that pleasing air of variety and individuality of apparel only to be found in southern California during the winter, and in those orthodox pictures in the book of Robinson Crusoe, where Robinson is depicted as complet

ed thinking them over. A blank that was measurable by hours ensued. I woke from a dream about a scramb

as as broad as a courthouse; and while lying at the dock she had appeared to be about the most solid and dependable thing in creation-and yet in just a few hours' time she ha

with an English manservant. This was my bedroom steward, by name Lubly-William Lubly. My hat is off to William Lubly-to him and to all his kind. He was always on duty; he never seemed to sleep; he was always in a good humor, and he always thought of the very t

and said it in such a way as

about the inside. "Thank you," he said; "th

o accord me a proper amount of recognition for everything that happened on that ship. Only the next day, I think it was, I asked him where we were. This occurred on deck. He had just answered a lady who wanted to know whether

are just off the

glish servant a kind word and he thanks you. Give him a harsh word and he still thanks you. Ask a question of a London policeman-he tells you fully and then he thanks you. G

y brief it into a short but expressive expletive and merely say: Kew. Kew is the commonest word in the British Isles. S

ish legation from somewhere going home on leave, for a holiday, or a funeral. At least I heard it was a holiday, but I should have said he was going home for the other occasion. He wore an Honorable attached to the front of his name and carried severa

nough perches extending across from side to side to keep him from caving in and crushing the canaries to death. On second thought

th his mournful gaze fixed on the far horizon. As I said before, however, he stood very high in the air, and it may have been he feared, if he ever

sible as one. If it were afternoon he would have his tea at five o'clock and then, with his soul still full of cracked ice, he would go below and dress fo

y on a desert island and spent years and years there, never knowing each other's name and never mingling together socially until the rescue ship came alo

n every well-conducted English boat; the family keeps him on a remittance and seems to feel easier in its mind when he is traveling. The British statesman who said the sun never sets

ds gave to his face the exact color of a slice of rare roast beef; it also had the expression of one. With a dab of English mustard in the l

And so, after the relationship had been thoroughly established through the kindly offices of a third party, they fraternized to the extent of riding up to London on the same boat-train, merely using dif

ip, and getting madder and madder about it every minute. I saw him only with his clothes on; but I should say, speaking offhand, that he had at le

lone on the same ship. And for persons who were taking their first trip abroad his contempt was absolutely unutterable; he cho

r been anywhere talking about this being rough weather! Rough weather, mind you! Ba

oked dropsical. I judged his bite would have caused death in from twelve to fourteen minutes, preceded b

minated in our own land as breezy. So he could not have been an Englishman. Once in a while there comes along an

nd what he might be; but the minute the suspect came into the salon for dinner the first night out I read his secret at a glance. He belonged

raduated with honors from a school of expression-who assisted in getting up the ship's con

grew lonely or bored then. Only one night he discovered something wrong about one of his eyebrows. He gave a pained start; and then, oblivious of those of us who hovered about enjoying the spectacle, he spent a long time working with the blemish

s and a mustache comb and a hand glass he would never, never be at a loss for a solution of the problem

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Europe Revised
Europe Revised
“Dodo Collections brings you another classic from Irvin Shrewsbury Cobb, 'Europe Revised.' Mr. Cobb's commentary on traveling in Europe as an American around the turn of the previous century gives an interesting sense of the era, and is always at least mildly amusing. But the real joy of this book is that Cobb is forever side-swiping you with startlingly funny, burst-out-laughing descriptions and observations. This book is amazingly valuable for a very simple reason. It was written and published almost immediately prior to the outbreak of the first world war, and details a Europe that just a few months later would no longer exist. Cobb is remembered best for his humorous stories of Kentucky and is part of the American literary regionalism school. These stories were collected first in the book Old Judge Priest (1915), whose title character was based on a prominent West Kentucky judge named William Pitman Bishop. Writer Joel Harris wrote of these tales, "Cobb created a South peopled with honorable citizens, charming eccentrics, and loyal, subservient blacks, but at their best the Judge Priest stories are dramatic and compelling, using a wealth of precisely rendered detail to evoke a powerful mood."Among his other books are the humorous Speaking of Operations (1916), and anti-prohibition ode to bourbon, Red Likker (1929).”
1 Chapter 1 We Are Going Away From Here2 Chapter 2 My Bonny Lies over the Ocean-Lies and Lies and Lies3 Chapter 3 Bathing Oneself on the Other Side4 Chapter 4 Jacques, the Forsaken5 Chapter 5 When the Seven A.M. Tut-tut leaves for Anywhere6 Chapter 6 La Belle France Being the First Stop7 Chapter 7 Thence On and On to Verbotenland8 Chapter 8 A Tale of a String-bean9 Chapter 9 The Deadly Poulet Routine10 Chapter 10 Modes of the Moment; a Fashion Article11 Chapter 11 Dressed to Kill12 Chapter 12 Night Life-with the Life Part Missing13 Chapter 13 Our Friend, the Assassin14 Chapter 14 That Gay Paresis15 Chapter 15 Symptoms of the Disease16 Chapter 16 As Done in London17 Chapter 17 Britain in Twenty Minutes18 Chapter 18 Guyed or Guided 19 Chapter 19 Venice and the Venisons20 Chapter 20 The Combustible Captain of Vienna21 Chapter 21 Old Masters and Other Ruins22 Chapter 22 Still More Ruins, Mostly Italian Ones23 Chapter 23 Muckraking in Old Pompeii24 Chapter 24 Mine Own People25 Chapter 25 Be it Ever so Humble