h! if there's one thing more nicer than
pie,
It's to soar like a bird in the sight of the flats as can't git on the
fly.

But I'm wandering, CHARLIE, I'm wandering. 'Oliday form is my text.
Last year it was Parry and Switzerland; 'ardly know where to go next.
I should much like to try Monty Carlo, and 'ave a fair flutter for once,
But I fear it won't run to it, pardner; my boss is the dashdest old
dunce.

_Won't_ raise me to three quid a week, the old skinflint. Though
travelling's cheap,
It do scatter the stamps jest a few, if you don't care to go on the
creep.
Roolette might jest set me up proper, but then, dontcherknow, it might
_not_,
And I fear I should come back cleared out, if my luck didn't land me a
pot.

Oh, dash them spondulicks! The pieces is all as I wants for _my_ 'elth.
And then them darned Sosherlist jugginses 'owl till all's blue agin
Wealth.
It gives me the ditherums, CHARLIE; it do, dear old man, and no kid.
Wy, they 'd queer the best pitches in life, if they kiboshed the Power
of the Quid!

There's Venice again! I could start this next week with a couple o' pals;
But yer gondoler's 'ardly my form, and I never wos nuts on canals.
WAGGLES says _they_'re not like the Grand Junction, as creeps sewer-like
through our parks;
Well, WAGGLES may sniff; I'm not sure, up to now, mate, as Venice means
larks.

'Arf a mind to try Parry once more. It's a place as you soon git to love;
There is always some fun afoot there, as will keep a chap fair on the
shove.
Pooty scenery's all very proper, but glaciers and snow-peaks do pall,
And as to yer bloomin' Black Forests, the _Bor der Boolong_ beats 'em
all.

After all, there is something quite 'ome-like in Parry--so leastways I
think;
It's a place where you don't seem afraid to larf 'arty, or tip gals the
wink;
Sort o' _san janey_ feeling about it, my pippin'--you know wot I mean.
You don't feel _too_ fur from old Fleet Street, steaks, "bitter," and
"_God Save the Queen!_"

When your Britisher travels, he travels, but likes to be Britisher still;
With his _Times_ and his "tub" he is 'appy; without 'em he's apt to feel
ill.
Wy, when I was last year in Parry, I went for a Bullyvard crawl
One night arter supper, when who should I spot but my pal BOBBY BALL.

He wos doin' the gay at a Caffy, was B