Punch, or the London Charivari | Page 4

The very
names of the pastimes conjured up a picture of swift and healthy
activity. As the pamphlets assured me, I should return a new man; and,
though I am greatly attached to the old one, I recognised that
improvement was possible.
I don't remember how it came about that I finally chose Freidegg
among the multiplicity of winter-sport stations whose descriptions
approximated to those of Heaven. I expect Frederick forced the choice
upon me; Frederick had been to Switzerland every winter from 1906 to
1913 and knew the ropes. I somehow gathered that the ropes were of
unusual complexity.

The entire journey was passed among winter-sporters of a certain type.
From their conversation I was able to learn that Badeloden was
formerly overrun by Germans; that Franzheim was excellent if you
stayed at the Grand, but at the Kurhaus the guests were unsociable,
while at the Oberalp you were not done well and the central-heating
was inefficient.
I ventured a few questions about the sport available, but was gently
rebuked by the silence which followed before conversation was
resumed in a further discussion of comforts and social amenities.
On arrival at the hotel I took out my skates, but, on Frederick's advice,
hid them again. "Don't let people see that you are a newcomer; there
won't be any skating for some weeks yet," said he.
"But why not?" I objected. "The ice must be at least six inches thick."
"Well, it isn't done," he replied. "One's first week is spent in settling
down; you can't go straight on the ice without preparation."
On the third day a Sports' Meeting was held, as the result of which a
programme of the season was published. It was announced that there
would be, weekly, three dances and one bridge tournament; a theatrical
performance would be given once a fortnight, and the blank evenings
filled with either a concert or an entertainment. I began to wonder how
I could squeeze in time for sleep.
In order that boredom might not overtake the guests before evening
came, a magnificent tea was served from four to six. During the
afternoon one could visit the other hotels of the place and usually found
some function in progress. We were not expected to breakfast before
ten, and the short time that remained before lunch was spent in a walk
to the rink, where we would solemnly take a few steps on the ice,
murmur, "Not in condition yet," and return to the hotel.
After about a fortnight of this I announced to Frederick that I was going
to skate, no matter how far from perfection the ice proved to be.

Frederick was indignant.
"You'll make yourself both conspicuous and unpopular. The two
Marriotts are giving an exhibition to-morrow; if you spoil the ice for
them their show will be ruined."
"Very well, then," said I, "I will borrow some ski and mess about on
the snow."
"You can't do that," he replied, horrified; "the professionals are coming
next week for the open competition, and if they don't find clean
snow--"
"All right; I'll get one of those grid-irons and course down the ice-run. I
suppose that's what the ice-run is for," said I bitterly.
"And spoil the Alpine Derby, which you know is fixed for the tenth?"
Frederick addressed me with some severity. "Look here--you must
choose your sport and stick to it. I am a ski-er; you don't find me
skating or bobbing or curling."
"Or ski-ing," I added.
"Before ski-ing," he informed me, "one must have one's ski in perfect
condition. Mine are improving daily."
Frederick in fact spent his short mornings in giving instructions as to
how his ski were to be oiled and rubbed. All the most complicated
operations of unction and massage were performed upon them, and all
the time Frederick watched over them as over a sick child.
Next I was told that the height of the season had arrived. The round of
indoor entertainments went on and almost daily the guests walked to
some near point to witness performances by professionals who seemed
to tour the country for that purpose.
Just when there appeared to be a slight prospect of some general
outdoor activity (and Frederick's ski were pronounced perfect) a thaw

occurred. I am bound to say that the event was received philosophically.
Not a single member of the company made any complaint; they faced
adversity like true Britons and boldly sat in the warm hotel to save
themselves for the evening. Nor did their distress put them off their
feed; they punished the tea unmercifully, showing scarcely a sign of the
aching sorrow which devoured them.
Soon it froze again. The daily visit to the ice was made and Frederick's
ski were once more put into training.
As for me I