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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mr. Punch At The Seaside.</title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch at the Seaside, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Mr. Punch at the Seaside
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: J. A. Hammerton
+
+Illustrator: Various
+
+Release Date: August 23, 2011 [EBook #37166]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH AT THE SEASIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Chris Curnow and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Cover" id="Cover">[Cover]</a></span></p>
+
+<h1>MR. PUNCH AT THE SEASIDE</h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/i_cover.png">
+<img src="images/i_cover.png" width="100%" alt="Cover" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h3>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.</h3>
+
+<center>Some pages of this work have been moved from the original
+sequence to enable the contents to continue without interruption.
+The page numbering remains unaltered.</center>
+<br />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR</h3><br />
+
+<center>Edited by <span class="smcap">J. A. Hammerton</span></center>
+<br />
+<p>Designed to provide in a series
+of volumes, each complete in itself,
+the cream of our national humour,
+contributed by the masters of
+comic draughtsmanship and the
+leading wits of the age to "Punch",
+from its beginning in 1841 to the
+present day.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/i_002b.png">
+<img src="images/i_002b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_003.png">
+<img src="images/i_003.png" width="100%" alt="BY THE SILVER SEA" /></a>
+<h3>"BY THE SILVER SEA"</h3>
+<center>This is <i>not</i> Jones's dog.</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>MR. PUNCH AT THE SEASIDE</h2>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_004a.png">
+<img src="images/i_004a.png" width="100%" alt="Cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+<br />
+<br />
+<p>AS PICTURED BY
+<br /><br />
+CHARLES KEENE, JOHN LEECH,<br />
+GEORGE DU MAURIER, PHIL MAY,<br />
+L. RAVEN-HILL, J. BERNARD<br />
+PARTRIDGE, GORDON BROWNE,<br />
+E. T. REED, AND OTHERS ...<br />
+<br />
+<i>WITH 200 ILLUSTRATIONS</i><br />
+</p>
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+<center>PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH<br /> THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
+<br />
+THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.</center>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR</h3>
+
+<center>
+<i>Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo. 192 pages<br />
+fully illustrated</i><br />
+<br />
+LIFE IN LONDON<br />
+<br />
+COUNTRY LIFE<br />
+<br />
+IN THE HIGHLANDS<br />
+<br />
+SCOTTISH HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+IRISH HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+COCKNEY HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+IN SOCIETY<br />
+<br />
+AFTER DINNER STORIES<br />
+<br />
+IN BOHEMIA<br />
+<br />
+AT THE PLAY<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AT HOME<br />
+<br />
+ON THE CONTINONG<br />
+<br />
+RAILWAY BOOK<br />
+<br />
+AT THE SEASIDE<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AFLOAT<br />
+<br />
+IN THE HUNTING FIELD<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH ON TOUR<br />
+<br />
+WITH ROD AND GUN<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AWHEEL<br />
+<br />
+BOOK OF SPORTS<br />
+<br />
+GOLF STORIES<br />
+<br />
+IN WIG AND GOWN<br />
+<br />
+ON THE WARPATH<br />
+<br />
+BOOK OF LOVE<br />
+<br />
+WITH THE CHILDREN<br />
+</center>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i_005.png">
+<img src="images/i_005.png" width="100%" alt="Channel swimmer" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p><hr />
+
+<h4>EDITOR'S NOTE</h4>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_006.png">
+<img src="images/i_006.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p>One of the leading characteristics of the nineteenth century was the
+tremendous change effected in the social life of Great Britain by the
+development of cheap railway travel. The annual holiday at the seaside
+speedily became as inevitable a part of the year's progress as the
+milkman's morning call is of the day's routine. What at first had been a
+rare and memorable event in a life-time developed into a habit, to
+which, with our British love for conventions, all of us conform.</p>
+
+<p>Whether or not our French critics are justified in saying that we
+Britishers take our pleasures sadly, these pages from the seaside
+chronicles of Mr. Punch will bear witness, and while at times they may
+seem to support the case of our critics, at others the evidence is
+eloquent against them. This at least is certain, that whatever the
+temperament of the British as displayed during the holiday season at our
+popular resorts, the point of view of our national jester, Mr. Punch, is
+unfailingly humorous, and such sadness as some of our countrymen may
+bring to their pleasures is but food for the mirth of merry Mr. Punch,
+who, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> are persuaded, stands for the sum total of John Bull's good
+humour in his outlook on the life of his countrymen.</p>
+
+<p>As the real abstract and brief chronicler of our time, Mr. Punch has
+mirrored in little the social history of the last sixty-five years, and
+apart from the genuine entertainment which this book presents, it is
+scarcely less instructive as a pictorial history of British manners
+during this period. One may here follow in the vivid sketches of the
+master-draughtsmen of the age the ceaseless and bewildering changes of
+fashion&mdash;the passing of the crinoline, the coming and going of the
+bustle, the chignon, and similar vanities, and the evolution of the
+present-day styles of dress both of men and women.</p>
+
+<p>It is also curious to notice how little seaside customs, amusements,
+troubles and delights, have varied in the last half-century. Landladies
+are at the end what they were at the beginning; the same old type of
+bathing-machine is still in use; our forefathers and their womenfolk in
+the days when Mr. Punch was young behaved themselves by "the silver sea"
+just as their children's children do to-day. Nothing has changed, except
+that the most select of seaside places is no longer so select as it was
+in the pre-railway days, and that the wealthier classes, preferring the
+attractions of Continental resorts, are less in evidence at our own
+watering-places.</p>
+
+<p>The motto of this little work, as of all those in the series to which it
+belongs, is "Our true intent is all for your delight", but if the book
+carry with it some measure of instruction, we trust that may not be the
+less to its credit.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_008.png">
+<img src="images/i_008.png" width="100%" alt="village pump" /></a>
+<h4>A FASHIONABLE WATERING PLACE</h4>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Dorset (of "Dorset's Sugar and Butter Stores",<br /> Mile End Road).</i>
+"Why on earth can't we go to a more<br /> <i>dressy</i> place than this, 'Enery?<br />
+I'm sick of this dreary 'ole, year after year.<br /> It's nothing but sand and
+water, sand and water!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Dorset.</i> "If it wasn't for sand and water,<br /> you wouldn't get no
+'olerday."</p>
+<br /><br /><br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Seaside Mem.</span>&mdash;The Society recently started to abolish Tied-houses will
+not include Bathing Machines within the scope of its operations.</p>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_009.png">
+<img src="images/i_009.png" width="100%" alt="BIDDY-FORD" /></a>
+<h4>BIDDY-FORD</h4>
+</div>
+
+<h2>"WHERE'S RAMSGATE?"</h2>
+
+<p>
+[<i>Mr. Justice Hawkins.</i> Where is Ramsgate?<br />
+<i>Mr. Dickens.</i> It is in Thanet, your lordship.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;"><i>Report of Twyman v. Bligh.</i>]</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Where's Ramsgate?" Justice Hawkins cried.</p>
+<p class="i2">"Where on our earthly planet?"</p>
+<p class="i0">The learned Dickens straight replied,</p>
+<p class="i2">"'Tis in the Isle of Thanet.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Ramsgate is where the purest air</p>
+<p class="i2">Will make your head or leg well,</p>
+<p class="i0">Will jaded appetite repair,</p>
+<p class="i2">With the shrimp cure of Pegwell.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Where's Ramsgate? It is near the place</p>
+<p class="i2">Where Julius C�sar waded,</p>
+<p class="i0">And nearer still to where his Grace</p>
+<p class="i2">Augustine come one day did.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"All barristers should Ramsgate know:</p>
+<p class="i2">I speak of it with pleasure",</p>
+<p class="i0">Quoth Dickens. "There I often go</p>
+<p class="i2">When wanting a refresher.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Where's Ramsgate? Where I've often seen.</p>
+<p class="i2">Both S-mb-rne and Du M-r-<i>er</i>,</p>
+<p class="i0">When I have gone by 3.15</p>
+<p class="i2">Granville Express, Victori<i>er</i>.</p>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"With Thanet Harriers, when you are</p>
+<p class="i2">Well mounted on a pony,</p>
+<p class="i0">You'll say, for health who'd go so far</p>
+<p class="i2">As Cannes, Nice, or Mentone?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"With Poland, of the Treasury,</p>
+<p class="i2">Recorder eke of Dover,</p>
+<p class="i0">I oft go down for pleasurey.</p>
+<p class="i2">Alack! 'tis too soon over!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"O'er Thanet's Isle where'er you trudge,</p>
+<p class="i2">My Lud, you'll find no land which&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p class="i0">"Dickens take Ramsgate!" quote the Judge.</p>
+<p class="i2">"Luncheon! I'm off to Sandwich!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_010.png">
+<img src="images/i_010.png" width="100%" alt="JUDGE BY APPEARANCE" /></a>
+<h3>A JUDGE BY APPEARANCE</h3>
+<p><i>Bathing Guide.</i> "Bless 'is 'art! I know'd he'd take to it kindly&mdash;by
+the werry looks on 'im!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE WONDERS OF THE SEA-SHORE</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>Contributed by</i> "<span class="smcap">Glaucus</span>", <i>who is staying at a quiet
+watering-place, five miles from anywhere, and three miles from a
+Railway Station</i>.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_011.png">
+<img src="images/i_011.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Monday(?) after breakfast, lying on the beach.</i></p>
+
+<p>Wonder if it is Monday, or Tuesday?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what time it is?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if it will be a fine day?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what I shall do if it is? On second thoughts, wonder what I shall
+do if it isn't?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if there are any letters?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Wonder who that is in a white petticoat with her hair down?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if she came yesterday or the day before?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if she's pretty?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what I've been thinking about the last ten minutes?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder how the boatmen here make a livelihood by lying all day at full
+length on the beach?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder why every one who sits on the shore throws pebbles into the sea?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what there is for dinner?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what I shall do all the afternoon?</p>
+
+<center><i>Same day, after lunch, lying on the beach.</i></center>
+
+<p>Wonder who in the house beside myself is partial to my dry sherry?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what there is for dinner?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what's in the paper to-day?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if it's hot in London? Should say it was.</p>
+
+<p>Wonder how I ever could live in London?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if there's any news from America?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what tooral looral means in a chorus?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Children playing near me, pretty, very?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if that little boy intended to hit me on the nose with a stone?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if he's going to do it again? Hope not.</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if I should like to be a shrimp?</p>
+
+<center><i>Same day, after an early dinner, lying on the beach.</i></center>
+
+<p>Wonder why I can never get any fish?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder why my landlady introduces cinders into the gravy?</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_015.png">
+<img src="images/i_015.png" width="100%" alt="EXMOUTH" /></a>
+<h3>EXMOUTH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Wonder more than ever who there is at my lodgings so partial to my dry
+sherry?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if that's the coast of France in the distance?</p>
+
+<p>Feel inclined for a quiet conversation with my fellow-man.</p>
+
+<p>A boatman approaches. I wonder (to the boatman) if it will be a fine day
+tomorrow? He wonders too? We both wonder together?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder (again to the boatman) if the rail will make much difference to
+the place? He shakes his head and says "Ah! he wonders!" and leaves me.</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what age I was last birthday?
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Wonder if police inspectors are as a rule fond of bathing?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what gave me that idea?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what I shall do all this evening?</p>
+<br />
+<center><i>Same day, after supper, Moonlight, lying on the beach.</i></center>
+<br />
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_017.png">
+<img src="images/i_017.png" width="100%" alt="HIGH SEA OVER THE BAR" /></a>
+<h3>A HIGH SEA OVER THE BAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Wonder if there ever was such a creature as a mermaid?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder several times more than ever who it is that's so fond of my dry
+sherry?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if the Pope can swim?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what made me think of that?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if I should like to go up in a balloon?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what Speke and Grant had for dinner to-day?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder if the Zoological Gardens are open at sunrise?</p>
+
+<p>Wonder what I shall do to-morrow?</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Fruit to be Avoided by Bathers.</span>&mdash;Currants.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_012.png">
+<img src="images/i_012.png" width="100%" alt="DEA EX MACHIN�" /></a>
+<h3>DEA EX MACHIN�!</h3>
+<p>(<i>A Reminiscence</i>)</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_014.png">
+<img src="images/i_014.png" width="100%" alt="SHOPPING" /></a>
+<h3>SHOPPING</h3>
+<p><i>Lady</i> (<i>at Seaside "Emporium"</i>). "How much are those&mdash;ah&mdash;improvers?"</p>
+<p><i>Shopman.</i> "Improv&mdash;hem!&mdash;They're not, ma'am"&mdash;(<i>confused</i>)&mdash;"not&mdash;not
+the article you require, ma'am. They're fencing-masks, ma'am!"</p>
+<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">[<i>Tableau!</i></span><br /></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_016.png">
+<img src="images/i_016.png" width="100%" alt="A LARGE BUMP OF CAUTION" /></a>
+<h3>A LARGE BUMP OF CAUTION</h3>
+<p><i>Flora.</i> "Oh, let us sit here, aunt, the breeze is so delightful."</p>
+<p><i>Aunt.</i> "Yes&mdash;it's very nice, I dare say; but I won't come any nearer to
+the cliff, for I am always afraid of <i>slipping through those
+railings</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_018.png">
+<img src="images/i_018.png" width="100%" alt="A BOAT FOR AN HOUR" /></a>
+<h3>A BOAT FOR AN HOUR</h3>
+<p><i>Stout Gentleman.</i> "What! is that the only boat you have in?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A SEASIDE REVERIE</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_019.png">
+<img src="images/i_019.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I think, as I sit at my ease on the shingle,</p>
+<p class="i2">And list to the musical voice of the Sea,</p>
+<p class="i0">How gaily my Landlady always will mingle</p>
+<p class="i2">From my little caddy her matutine tea.</p>
+<p class="i0">And vainly the bitter remembrance I banish</p>
+<p class="i2">Of mutton just eaten, my heart is full sore,</p>
+<p class="i0">To think after one cut it's certain to vanish,</p>
+<p class="i2">And never be seen on my board any more.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Some small store of spirit to moisten my throttle</p>
+<p class="i2">I keep, and indulge in it once in a way;</p>
+<p class="i0">But, bless you, it seems to fly out of the bottle</p>
+<p class="i2">And swiftly decrease, though untouched all the day.</p>
+<p class="i0">My sugar and sardines, my bread and my butter,</p>
+<p class="i2">Are eaten, and vainly I fret and I frown;</p>
+<p class="i0">My Landlady, just like an �sthete's too utter</p>
+<p class="i2">A fraud, and I vow that I'll go back to Town.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_020.png">
+<img src="images/i_020.png" width="100%" alt="THE MORNING PAPERS" /></a>
+<h3>THE MORNING PAPERS</h3>
+<p>Sketch from our window, 10 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>, at Sludgeborough Ness.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_021.png">
+<img src="images/i_021.png" width="100%" alt="THE NURSEMAID&#39;S FRIEND" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>THE NURSEMAID'S FRIEND</h2>
+
+<p>Science has given us the baby-jumper, by which we are enabled to carry
+out the common exclamation of "Hang those noisy children" without an act
+of infanticide, by suspending our youngsters in the air; and perhaps
+allowing them to have their full swing, without getting into mischief;
+but the apparatus for the nursery will not be complete until we have
+something in the shape of coops for our pretty little chickens, when
+they are "out with nurse", and she happens to have something better&mdash;or
+worse&mdash;to do than to look after them.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_023.png">
+<img src="images/i_023.png" width="100%" alt="YARMOUTH" /></a>
+<h3>YARMOUTH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>How often, in a most interesting part of a novel, or in the midst of a
+love passage of real life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> in which the nurse is herself the heroine,
+how often, alas! is she not liable to be disturbed by the howl of a
+brat, with a cow's horn in his eye, a dog's teeth in his heels, or in
+some other awkward dilemma, which could not have arisen had the domestic
+Child-coop been an article of common use in the Metropolitan parks, or
+on the sands at the seaside?</p>
+
+<p>There is something very beautiful in the comparison of helpless infancy
+to a brood of young chickens, with its attendant imagery of "mother's
+wing", and all that sort of thing, but the allegory would be rendered
+much more complete by the application of the hencoop to domestic
+purposes. We intend buying one for our own stud of <i>piccoli</i>&mdash;which
+means little pickles&mdash;and we hope to see all heads of families taking it
+into their heads to follow our example.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Midsummer Madness.</span>&mdash;Going to the seaside in search of quiet.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_022.png">
+<img src="images/i_022.png" width="100%" alt="LOCAL INTELLIGENCE" /></a>
+<h2>LOCAL INTELLIGENCE</h2>
+<p>"D'year as 'ow old Bob Osborne 'ave give up shrimpin' an took ter
+winklin'?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I'm blest!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_024.png">
+<img src="images/i_024.png" width="100%" alt="THE INGRATITUDE OF SOME SERVANTS" /></a>
+<h2>THE INGRATITUDE OF SOME SERVANTS</h2>
+<p>You give them a change by taking them to the seaside&mdash;all they have to
+do is to look after the children&mdash;and yet they don't seem to appreciate
+it.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>ON THE SPOT</h2>
+
+<p>Shall we like Pierpoint, to which favourite and healthy seaside resort
+we finally resolved to come, after a period of much indecision and
+uncertainty, and where we arrived, in heavy rain, in two cabs, with
+thirteen packages, on Saturday?</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_025a.png">
+<img src="images/i_025a.png" width="100%" alt="A NATIVE HOISTER" /></a>
+<h3>A NATIVE HOISTER</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Shall we be comfortable at 62, Convolution Street, dining-room floor,
+two guineas and a half a week, and all and perhaps rather more than the
+usual extras?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we like Mrs. Kittlespark?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we find Kate all that a Kate ought to be?</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_025b.png">
+<img src="images/i_025b.png" width="100%" alt="GOING DOWN" /></a>
+<h3>GOING DOWN TO A WATERING PLACE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Shall we lock everything up, or repose a noble confidence in Mrs.
+Kittlespark and Kate?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we get to know the people in the drawing-room?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we subscribe to the Pier, or pay each time we go on it?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we subscribe to that most accommodating Circulating Library,
+Pigram's, where we can exchange our books at pleasure, <i>but not oftener
+than once a day</i>?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we relax our minds with the newest novels, or give our intellects
+a bracing course of the best standard works?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we dine late or early?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we call on the Denbigh Flints, who, according to the <i>Pierpoint
+Pioneer</i>, are staying at 10, Ocean Crescent?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_027a.png">
+<img src="images/i_027a.png" width="100%" alt="GOING TO BRIGHTON" /></a>
+<h3>GOING TO BRIGHTON</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Shall we carefully avoid the Wilkiesons, whom the same unerring guide
+reports at 33, Blue Lion Street?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we be satisfied with our first weekly bill?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we find in it any unexpected and novel extras, such as
+knife-cleaning, proportion of the water-rate, loan of latch-key, &amp;c.?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we get our meat at Round's, who displays the Prince of Wales's
+Feathers over his shop door, and plumes himself on being "purveyor" to
+His Royal Highness; or at Cleaver's, who boasts of the patronage of the
+Hereditary Grand Duke of Seltersland?</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_027b.png">
+<img src="images/i_027b.png" width="100%" alt="VIEW OF COWES" /></a>
+<h3>A VIEW OF COWES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Shall we find everything dearer here than it is at home?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we be happy in our laundress?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we be photographed?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we, as Mrs. Kittlespark has a spare bed-room, invite our Cousin
+Amelia Staythorp, from whom we have expectations, and who is
+Constance Edith Amelia's Godmother, to come down and stay a week with
+us?</p>
+
+<p>Shall we be praiseworthily economical, and determine not to spend a
+single unnecessary sixpence; or shall we, as we <i>have</i> come to
+Pierpoint, enjoy ourselves to the utmost, go in for all the amusements
+of the place&mdash;pier, public gardens, theatre, concerts, Oceanarium,
+bathing, boating, fishing, driving, riding, and rinking&mdash;make
+excursions, be ostentatiously liberal to the Town Band, and buy
+everything that is offered to us on the Beach?</p>
+
+<p>A month hence, shall we be glad or sorry to leave Pierpoint, and go back
+to Paddington?</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Postscript To a Seaside Letter.</span>&mdash;"The sea is as smooth, and clear, as a
+looking-glass. The oysters might see to shave in it."</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_026.png">
+<img src="images/i_026.png" width="100%" alt="WHAT WE COULD BEAR A GOOD DEAL OF" /></a>
+<h3>WHAT WE COULD BEAR A GOOD DEAL OF</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_028.png">
+<img src="images/i_028.png" width="100%" alt="SCENE AT SANDBATH" /></a>
+<h3>SCENE AT SANDBATH</h3>
+<p>The Female Blondin Outdone! Grand Morning Performance on the Narrow
+Plank by the Darling ----</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_029.png">
+<img src="images/i_029.png" width="100%" alt="A LITTLE FAMILY BREEZE" /></a>
+<h3>A LITTLE FAMILY BREEZE</h3>
+<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> "What a wretch you must be, T.; why don't you take me off?
+Don't you see I'm overtook with the tide, and I shall be drownded!"</p>
+<p><i>T.</i> "Well, then&mdash;will you promise not to kick up such a row when I stop
+out late of a Saturday?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_030.png">
+<img src="images/i_030.png" width="100%" alt="ALL IN THE DAY&#39;S WORK" /></a>
+<h3>ALL IN THE DAY'S WORK</h3>
+<p>"And look here! I want you to take my friend here and myself just far
+enough to be up to our chins, you know, and no further!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>WHAT THE WILD WAVES ARE SAYING</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_031.png">
+<img src="images/i_031.png" width="100%" alt="BANGOR" /></a>
+<h3>BANGOR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>That the lodging-house keepers are on the look out for the weary
+Londoners and their boxes.</p>
+
+<p>That the sea breezes will attract all the world from the Metropolis to
+the coast.</p>
+
+<p>That Britons should prefer Ramsgate, Eastbourne, Scarborough, and the
+like, to Dieppe, Dinard, and Boulogne.</p>
+
+<p>That paterfamilias should remember, when paying the bill, that a two
+months' letting barely compensates for an empty house during the
+remainder of the year.</p>
+
+<p>That the shore is a place of recreation for all but the bathing-machine
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>That the circulating libraries are stocked with superfluous copies of
+unknown novels waiting to be read.</p>
+
+<p>That, finally, during the excursion season, 'Arry will have to be
+tolerated, if not exactly loved.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p><hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 90%">
+<a href="images/i_032.png">
+<img src="images/i_032.png" width="100%" alt="View of the sands" /></a>
+<h3><i>The "Lancet" advocates taking holidays in Midwinter
+instead of Midsummer.</i></h3>
+<center>View of the sands of Anywhere-on-Sea if the suggestion is adopted.<br />
+Time&mdash;December or January.</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_033.png">
+<img src="images/i_033.png" width="100%" alt="You&#39;re a brute, sir" /></a>
+<p><i>Mrs. Fydgetts (screaming).</i> "My child! My child!"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. Fydgetts.</i> "What's the use of making that noise? Can't you be
+quiet?"</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "You're a brute, sir."</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F.</i> "I wish I were; for then I should be able to swim."</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "Mr. Fydgetts! Ain't you a-coming to help me?"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F.</i> "No! It serves you right for bringing me down to this stupid
+place."</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "<i>I</i>, indeed. Why, I wanted to go to Brighton and you would
+come to Margate&mdash;you said it was cheaper".</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F.</i> "It's false; I said no such thing".</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "You did, you did!"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F.</i> "O, woman! woman! Where do you expect to go to?"</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "To the bottom; unless you come and help me!"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F.</i> "Help yourself. I'm s-i-n-k-i-n-g"&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> "My child! My child!"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. F. (rising from the water).</i> "Be quiet, can't you! Woo-o-m&mdash;" (<i>the
+rest is inaudible, but the watery pair are saved just in time, and renew
+their dispute in the boat as soon as they are rescued from their
+perilous position</i>).</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_034.png">
+<img src="images/i_034.png" width="100%" alt="Mabel soliloquising" /></a>
+<p><i>Mabel</i> (<i>soliloquising</i>). "Dear me, this relaxing
+climate makes even one's parasol seem too heavy to hold!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>HOLIDAY HAUNTS</h2>
+
+<center><i>By Jingle Junior on the Jaunt</i><br /><br />
+
+I.&mdash;GREAT YARMOUTH</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_035.png">
+<img src="images/i_035.png" width="100%" alt="PUFFINS" /></a>
+<h3>PUFFINS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Why Great?&mdash;where's Little Yarmouth?&mdash;or Mid-Sized Yarmouth?&mdash;give it
+up&mdash;don't know&mdash;hate people who ask conundrums&mdash;feel well cured directly
+you get here&mdash;good trademark for dried-fish sellers, "The Perfect
+Cure"&mdash;if you stay a fortnight, get quite kipperish&mdash;stay a month, talk
+kipperish! Principal attractions&mdash;Bloaters and Rows&mdash;first eat&mdash;second
+see&mdash;song, "<i>Speak gently of the Herring</i>"&mdash;"long shore" ones
+splendid&mdash;kippers delicious&mdash;song, "<i>What's a' the steer,
+Kipper?</i>"&mdash;song, "<i>Nobody's rows like our Rows</i>"&mdash;more they
+are&mdash;varied&mdash;picturesque&mdash;tumbledown&mdash;paradise for painters&mdash;very
+narrow&mdash;capital support for native Bloater going home after dinner&mdash;odd
+names&mdash;Ramp, Kitty Witches&mdash;Gallon Can,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> Conge! Fancy oneself quite the
+honest toiler of the sea&mdash;ought to go about in dried haddock suit&mdash;feel
+inclined to emulate <i>Mr. Peggotty</i>&mdash;run into quiet taverns&mdash;thump tables
+violently&mdash;say "gormed!" Whole neighbourhood recalls <i>Ham</i> and <i>Little
+Em'ly</i>&mdash;<i>David, Steerforth, Mrs. Gummidge</i>&mdash;recall ham myself&mdash;if well
+broiled&mdash;lunch&mdash;pleasant promenades on piers&mdash;plenty of amusement in
+watching the bloateric commerce&mdash;fresh water fishing in adjacent Broads,
+if you like&mdash;if not, let it alone&mdash;broad as it's long! The Denes&mdash;not
+sardines&mdash;nor rural deans&mdash;good places for exercise&mdash;plenty of
+antiquities&mdash;old customs&mdash;quaint traditions! Picturesque ancient
+taverns&mdash;capital modern hotels&mdash;stopping in one of the latter&mdash;polite
+waiter just appeared&mdash;dinner served&mdash;soup'll get cold&mdash;mustn't
+wait&mdash;never insult good cook by being unpunctual&mdash;rather let Editor go
+short than hurt cook's feelings<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>&mdash;so no more at present&mdash;from Yours
+Truly.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_037.png">
+<img src="images/i_037.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<center>II.&mdash;LITTLEHAMPTON.</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_039.png">
+<img src="images/i_039.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Emphatically the Sea on the strict Q T&mdash;no bustle at
+railway-station&mdash;train glides in noiselessly&mdash;passengers ooze
+away&mdash;porters good-tempered and easy-going&mdash;like suffragan Bishops in
+corduroys&mdash;bless boxes&mdash;read pastorals on portmanteaux&mdash;no one in a
+hurry&mdash;locomotive coos softly in an undertone&mdash;fly-drivers suggest
+possibility of your requiring their services in a whisper! Place
+full&mdash;no lodgings to be had&mdash;visitors manage to efface themselves&mdash;no
+one about&mdash;all having early dinners&mdash;or gone to bed&mdash;or pretending to be
+somewhere else&mdash;a one-sided game of hide and seek&mdash;everybody hiding,
+nobody seeking! Seems always afternoon&mdash;dreamy gleamy sunshine&mdash;a dense
+quietude that you might cut in slices&mdash;no braying brass-bands&mdash;no
+raucous niggers&mdash;no seaside harpies&mdash;Honfleur packet only excitement&mdash;no
+one goes to see it start&mdash;visitors don't like to be excited! Chief
+amusements, Common, Sands, and Pony-chaises&mdash;first, good to roll
+on&mdash;second, good to stroll on&mdash;first two, gratuitous and breezy&mdash;third,
+inexpensive and easy&mdash;might be driven out of your mind for
+three-and-six&mdash;notwithstanding this, everybody presumably sane. Capital
+place for children&mdash;cricket for boys&mdash;shrimping for girls&mdash;bare
+legs&mdash;picturesque dress&mdash;not much caught&mdash;salt water good for
+ankles&mdash;excellent bathing&mdash;rows of bathing-tents&mdash;admirable notion!
+Interesting excursions&mdash;Arundel
+Castle&mdash;Bramber&mdash;Bognor&mdash;Chichester&mdash;Petworth House! Good things to
+eat&mdash;Arundel mullet&mdash;Amberley trout&mdash;Tarring figs! Delightful
+air&mdash;omnipotent ozone&mdash;uninterrupted quiet&mdash;just the place to recover
+your balance, either mental or monetary&mdash;I wish to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> recover both&mdash;that's
+the reason I'm here&mdash;send cheque at once to complete cure.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a></p></div>
+<p>Don't like this sentiment. Is J. J. a Cook's Tourist?&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a></p></div><p>We have sent him the price of a third-class fare to town,
+with orders to return instantly: possibly this is hardly the sort of
+check that our friend "J. J." expected.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p>
+
+<center>III.&mdash;SCARBOROUGH.</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_043.png">
+<img src="images/i_043.png" width="100%" alt="RAMSGATE" /></a>
+<h3>RAMSGATE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_045.png">
+<img src="images/i_045.png" width="100%" alt=" CUTTER MAKING FOR THE PEER HEAD" /></a>
+<h3>A CUTTER MAKING FOR THE PEER HEAD</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Long way from London&mdash;no matter&mdash;fast train&mdash;soon here&mdash;once here don't
+wish to leave&mdash;palatial hotels&mdash;every luxury&mdash;good <i>tables
+d'h�te</i>&mdash;pleasant balls&mdash;lively society! Exhilarating air&mdash;good as
+champagne without "morning after"&mdash;up early&mdash;go to bed late&mdash;authorities
+provide something better than a broken-down pier, a circulating library,
+and a rickety bathing-machine&mdash;authorities disburse large sums for
+benefit of visitors&mdash;visitors spend lots of money in town&mdash;mutual
+satisfaction&mdash;place crowded&mdash;capital bands&mdash;excellent
+theatricals&mdash;varied entertainments&mdash;right way to do it! The Spa&mdash;first
+discovered 1620&mdash;people been discovering it ever since&mdash;some drink
+it&mdash;more walk on it&mdash;lounge on it&mdash;smoke on it&mdash;flirt on it&mdash;wonderful
+costumes in the morning&mdash;more wonderful in the afternoon&mdash;most wonderful
+in the evening! North Sands&mdash;South Sands&mdash;fine old Castle well
+placed&mdash;picturesque old town&mdash;well-built modern terraces, squares and
+streets&mdash;pony-chaises&mdash;riding-horses&mdash;Lift for lazy ones! Capital
+excursions&mdash;Oliver's Mount&mdash;Carnelian Bay&mdash;Scalby
+Mill&mdash;Hackness&mdash;Wykeham&mdash;Filey! Delightful gardens&mdash;secluded seats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+&mdash;hidden nooks&mdash;shady bowers&mdash;well-screened corners&mdash;Northern
+Belles&mdash;bright eyes&mdash;soft nothings&mdash;eloquent sighs&mdash;squozen
+hands&mdash;before you know where you are&mdash;ask papa&mdash;all up&mdash;dangerous very!
+Overcome by feelings&mdash;can't write any more&mdash;friend asks me to drink
+waters&mdash;query North Chalybeate or South Salt Well&mdash;wonder which&mdash;if in
+doubt try soda qualified with brandy&mdash;good people scarce&mdash;better run no
+risk!</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Costume in Keeping.</span>&mdash;"Of all sweet things", said Bertha, "for the
+seaside, give me a serge." The Ancient Mariner shook his head. He didn't
+see the joke.</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Board and Lodging!</span>&mdash;<i>Landlady.</i> "Yes, sir, the board were certingly to
+be a guinea a week, but I didn't know as you was a-going to bathe in the
+sea before breakfast and take bottles of tonic during the day!"</p>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_036.png">
+<img src="images/i_036.png" width="100%" alt="THE DONKEYS&#39; HOLIDAY" /></a>
+<h3>THE DONKEYS' HOLIDAY</h3>
+<center>With compliments to the S.P.C.A.</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_038.png">
+<img src="images/i_038.png" width="100%" alt="LABELLED" /></a>
+<h3>LABELLED!</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_040.png">
+<img src="images/i_040.png" width="100%" alt="NAUGHTICAL" /></a>
+<h3>NAUGHTICAL?</h3>
+<p><i>Yachting Friend (playfully).</i> "Have you any experience of squalls,
+Brown?"</p>
+<p><i>Brown.</i> "Squalls!" (<i>Seriously.</i>) "My dear sir, I've brought up ten in
+family!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_041.png">
+<img src="images/i_041.png" width="100%" alt="SOCIAL BEINGS" /></a>
+<h3>SOCIAL BEINGS</h3>
+<p>Wearied by London dissipation, the Marjoribanks Browns go, for the sake
+of perfect quiet, to that picturesque little watering-place,
+Shrimpington-super-Mare, where they trust that they will not meet a
+single soul they know.</p>
+<p>Oddly enough, the Cholmondeley Joneses go to the same spot with the same
+purpose.</p>
+<p>Now, these Joneses and Browns cordially detest each other in London, and
+are not even on speaking terms; yet such is the depressing effect of
+"perfect quiet" that, as soon as they meet at Shrimpington-super-Mare,
+they rush into each other's arms with a wild sense of relief!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_042.png">
+<img src="images/i_042.png" width="100%" alt="HEARTS OF OAK" /></a>
+<h3>HEARTS OF OAK</h3>
+<p><i>Angelina (who has never seen a revolving light before).</i> "How patient
+and persevering those sailors must be, Edwin! The wind has blown that
+light out six times since they first lit it, and they've lighted it
+again each time!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<table summary="cartoons">
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_044a.png">
+<img src="images/i_044a.png" width="100%" alt="SHANKLIN" /></a>
+<h3>SHANKLIN</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/i_044b.png">
+<img src="images/i_044b.png" width="100%" alt="SCILLY" /></a>
+<h3>SCILLY</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_044c.png">
+<img src="images/i_044c.png" width="100%" alt="HAYLING ISLAND" /></a>
+<h3>HAYLING ISLAND</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_044d.png">
+<img src="images/i_044d.png" width="100%" alt="MUMBLES" /></a>
+<h3>MUMBLES</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_046.png">
+<img src="images/i_046.png" width="100%" alt="send them away" /></a>
+<p>"Now, mind, if any of those nasty people with cameras
+come near, you're to send them away!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SEASIDE SOLITUDE</h2>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Highburybarn-on-Sea</span><br /><br />
+
+(<i>From our Special Commissioner</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_047.png">
+<img src="images/i_047.png" width="100%" alt="ROUNDING THE BUOY" /></a>
+<h3>A CUTTER ROUNDING THE BUOY</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dear Mr. Punch,&mdash;This is a spot, which, according to your instructions,
+I reached last evening. In these same instructions you described it as
+"a growing place." I fancy it must be of the asparagus order, that
+vegetable, as you are well aware, taking three years in which to develop
+itself to perfection. Highburybarn-on-Sea is, I regret to say, in the
+first stage&mdash;judged from an asparagus point of view. I cannot entertain
+the enthusiastic description of the candid correspondent (I refer to the
+cutting forwarded by you from an eminent daily paper under the heading,
+"By the Golden Ocean.") He describes it as "an oasis on the desert coast
+of Great Britain."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> Far be it from me to deny the desert&mdash;all I object
+to is the oasis.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_049.png">
+<img src="images/i_049.png" width="100%" alt="Limpets" /></a>
+<h3>Limpets</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>I ask you, sir, if you ever, in the course of the travels in which you
+have out-rivalled Stanley, Cameron, Livingstone, Harry de Windt, and,
+may I add, De Rougemont, ever came across an oasis, consisting of two
+score villas, built with scarcely baked bricks, reposing on an arid
+waste amid a number of tumbled-down cottages, and surmounted by a mighty
+workhouse-like hotel looking down on a pre-Adamite beershop?</p>
+
+<p>The sky was blue, the air was fresh, the waves had retreated to sea when
+I arrived in a jolting omnibus at Highburybarn-on-Sea, and deposited
+myself and luggage at the Metropolitan Hotel. A page-boy was playing
+airs on a Jew's-harp when I alighted on the sand-driven steps of the
+hostelry. He seemed surprised at my arrival, but in most respectful
+fashion placed his organ of minstrelsy in his jacket pocket, the while
+he conveyed my Gladstone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> bag to my apartment, secured by an interview
+with an elderly dame, who gave an intelligent but very wan smile when I
+suggested dinner. She referred me to the head waiter. This functionary
+pointed in grandiose fashion to the coffee-room, wherein some artistic
+wall-papering wag had committed atrocities on which it would be libel to
+comment.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_051.png">
+<img src="images/i_051.png" width="100%" alt="GETTING A BLOW" /></a>
+<h3>TAKING A DIP AND GETTING A BLOW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>There was only one occupant, a short clean-shaven gentleman with white
+hair and a red nose, who was apparently chasing space. This turned out
+to be a militant blue-bottle. Meantime, the head-waiter produced his
+bill of fare, or rather the remains of it. Nearly every dish had
+apparently been consumed, for the most tempting <i>plats</i> were removed
+from the <i>menu</i> by a liberal application of red pencil. Finally, I
+decided on a fried sole and a steak. The white-haired man still pursued
+the blue-bottle.</p>
+
+<p>I went up to my room, and after washing with no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> soap I returned to the
+coffee-room. The blue-bottle still had the best of it. The head-waiter,
+after the lapse of an hour, informed me that the sole would not be long.
+When it arrived, I found that he spoke the truth. If you have any
+recollection of the repast which <i>Porthos</i> endured when entertained by
+<i>Madame Coquenard</i>, you will have some notion of my feast. The
+head-waiter told me that some bare-legged persons who had waded into the
+water were shrimp-catchers. I only wished that I were one of them, for
+at least they found food.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_053.png">
+<img src="images/i_053.png" width="100%" alt="BIRCHINGTON" /></a>
+<h3>BIRCHINGTON</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Later on I retired to rest. I was visited in the hours of darkness, to
+which I had consigned myself, by a horde of mosquitoes, imported, so I
+was informed in the morning, by American travellers, who never tipped
+the waiters. I fulfilled their obligations, still gazing on the auburn
+sand-drift, still looking on the sea, still feeling hungry and murmuring
+to myself, "Highburybarn-on-Sea would be a capital place for children,
+if I could only see any cows." A melancholy cocoa-nut shy by the
+station appeared to afford all the milk in the place.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours despondently,</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Nibblethorpe Nobbs</span>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Embarrassment of Riches: Margate.</span>&mdash;<i>Mother.</i> "Now, Tommy, which would
+you rather do&mdash;have a donkey ride or watch father bathe?"</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/i_048.png">
+<img src="images/i_048.png" width="100%" alt="THE BATHING QUESTION" /></a>
+<h3>THE BATHING QUESTION</h3>
+<p>Master Tommy is emphatically of the opinion that the sexes ought not to
+bathe together.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_050.png">
+<img src="images/i_050.png" width="100%" alt="ARRIVAL OF THE SCARBY STEAMER" /></a>
+<h3>WHITBOROUGH. LOW TIDE. ARRIVAL OF THE SCARBY STEAMER</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_052.png">
+<img src="images/i_052.png" width="100%" alt="DENUDATION" /></a>
+<h3>"DENUDATION"</h3>
+<p><i>Niece</i> (<i>after a header</i>). "Oh, aunt, you're not coming in with your
+spectacles on?"</p>
+<p><i>Aunt Clarissa</i> (<i>who is not used to bathe in the "open"</i>). "My dear, I
+positively won't take off anything more, I'm determined!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_054.png">
+<img src="images/i_054.png" width="100%" alt="Bathing Woman" /></a>
+<p><i>Bathing Woman.</i> "Master Franky wouldn't cry! No! Not
+he!&mdash;He'll come to his Martha, and bathe like a man!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>TO THE FIRST BATHING-MACHINE</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>After Wordsworth</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_055.png">
+<img src="images/i_055.png" width="100%" alt="MOORINGS" /></a>
+<h3>MOORINGS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">O Blank new-comer! I have seen,</p>
+<p class="i2">I see thee with a start:</p>
+<p class="i0">So gentle looking a Machine,</p>
+<p class="i2">Infernal one thou art!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When first the sun feels rather hot,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or even rather warm,</p>
+<p class="i0">From some dim, hibernating spot</p>
+<p class="i2">Rolls forth thy clumsy form.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Perhaps thou babblest to the sea</p>
+<p class="i2">Of sunshine and of flowers;</p>
+<p class="i0">Thou bringest but a thought to me</p>
+<p class="i2">Of such bad quarter hours.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I, grasping tightly, pale with fear,</p>
+<p class="i2">Thy very narrow bench,</p>
+<p class="i0">Thou, bounding on in wild career,</p>
+<p class="i2">All shake, and jolt, and wrench.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Till comes an unexpected stop;</p>
+<p class="i2">My forehead hits the door,</p>
+<p class="i0">And I, with cataclysmic flop,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lie on thy sandy floor.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Then, dressed in Nature's simplest style,</p>
+<p class="i2">I, blushing, venture out;</p>
+<p class="i0">And find the sea is still a mile</p>
+<p class="i2">Away, or thereabout.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Blithe little children on the sand</p>
+<p class="i2">Laugh out with childish glee;</p>
+<p class="i0">Their nurses, sitting near at hand,</p>
+<p class="i2">All giggling, stare at me.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Unnerved, unwashed, I rush again</p>
+<p class="i2">Within thy tranquil shade,</p>
+<p class="i0">And wait until the rising main</p>
+<p class="i2">Shall banish child and maid.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Thy doors I dare not open now,</p>
+<p class="i2">Thy windows give no view;</p>
+<p class="i0">'Tis late; I will not bathe, I vow;</p>
+<p class="i2">I dress myself anew.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_056.png">
+<img src="images/i_056.png" width="100%" alt="There&#39;s the sea" /></a>
+<h3>"THALATTA! THALATTA!"</h3>
+<p><i>General chorus</i> (<i>as the children's excursion nears its destination</i>).
+"Oh, I say! There's the sea! 'Ooray!!"</p>
+<p><i>Small boy.</i> "I'll be in fust!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>HOW TO ENJOY A HOLIDAY</h2>
+
+<center><i>A Social Contrast</i><br /><br />
+
+I.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Wrong Way</span></center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_057.png">
+<img src="images/i_057.png" width="100%" alt="ILE OF MAN" /></a>
+<h3>ILE OF MAN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Here at last! A nice reward for a long and tedious journey!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Well, you were always complaining in town.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Broken chairs, rickety table, and a hideous wall-paper!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Well, I didn't buy the chairs, make the table, or choose the
+wall-paper. Discontent is your strong point.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> And is likely to remain so. Really, that German band is
+unbearable!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> My dear, you have no ear for music. Why, you don't even care
+for my songs! You used to say you liked them once.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> So I did&mdash;thirty years ago!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Before our marriage! And I have survived thirty years!</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Eh? What do you mean by that, madam?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Anything you please. But come&mdash;dinner's ready.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Dinner! The usual thing, I suppose&mdash;underdone fish and overdone
+meat!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Well, I see that you are determined to make the best of
+everything, my dear!</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> I am glad you think so, my darling!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>And so they sit down to dinner.</i></p>
+
+<center>II.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Right Way.</span></center><br />
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Here at last! What a charming spot! A fitting sequel to a very
+pleasant journey!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> And yet you are very fond of town!</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> This room reminds me of my own cozy study. Venerable chairs, a
+strange old table, and a quaintly-designed wall-paper.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Well, I think if I had had to furnish the house, I should have
+chosen the same things myself. But had they been ever so ugly, I feel
+sure that you would have liked them. You know, sir, that content is your
+strong point.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> I am sure that I shall find no opportunity of getting any merit
+(after the fashion of <i>Mark Tapley</i>) for being contented in this
+pleasant spot. What a capital German band!</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_061.png">
+<img src="images/i_061.png" width="100%" alt="A GOAT AND TWO KIDS" /></a>
+<h3>A GOAT AND TWO KIDS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> I don't believe that you understand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> anything about music, sir.
+Why, you even pretend that you like my old songs!</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> And so I do. Every day I live I like them better and better.
+And yet I heard them for the first time thirty years ago!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> When we were married! And so I have survived thirty years!</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Eh? What do you mean by that, madam?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> That I am a living proof that kindness never kills. How happy
+we have been! But come&mdash;dinner's ready.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> Dinner! The usual thing, I suppose&mdash;a nice piece of fish and a
+juicy joint. Now, that's just what I like. So much better than our
+pretentious London dinners! Not that a London dinner is not very good in
+its proper place.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mater.</i> Well, I see that you are determined to make the best of
+everything, my dear.</p>
+
+<p><i>Pater.</i> I am glad you think so, my darling!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>And so they sit down to dinner.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_058.png">
+<img src="images/i_058.png" width="100%" alt="THE CHAIN PIER, BRIGHTON" /></a>
+<h3>AWFUL SCENE ON THE CHAIN PIER, BRIGHTON</h3>
+<p><i>Nursemaid.</i> "Lawk! There goes Charley, and he's took his mar's parasol.
+What <i>will</i> missus say?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_060.png">
+<img src="images/i_060.png" width="100%" alt="She saw snakes" /></a>
+<p><i>Temperance Enthusiast.</i> "Look at the beautiful lives our
+first parents led. Do you suppose <i>they</i> ever gave way to strong drink?"</p>
+<p><i>The Reprobate.</i> "I 'xpect Eve must 'a' done. She saw snakes!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_062.png">
+<img src="images/i_062.png" width="100%" alt="A POWERFUL QUARTET" /></a>
+<h3>A POWERFUL QUARTET</h3>
+<center>(At all events it looks and sounds like one)</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_063.png">
+<img src="images/i_063.png" width="100%" alt="man on donkey." /></a>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>SWEETS OF THE SEASIDE.</h2>
+
+<center><i>Shingleton, near Dulborough.</i></center>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sympathising Mr. Punch</span>,</p>
+
+<p>With the desire of enjoying a few days of tranquillity and a few dips in
+the sea, I have arrived and taken lodgings at this "salubrious
+watering-place" (as the guide-books choose to call it), having heard
+that it was quiet, and possessed of a steep, cleanly, and bathe-inviting
+beach. As to the latter point, I find that fame has not belied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> it; but
+surely with a view to tempt me into suicide, some demon must have
+coupled the term "quiet" with this place. Quiet! Gracious Powers of
+Darkness! if this be your idea of a quiet spot to live in, I wonder
+what, according to your notion, need be added to its tumult to make a
+noisy town. Here is a list of aural tortures wherewith we are tormented,
+which may serve by way of time-table to advertise the musical
+attractions of the place:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>1 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Voices of the night. Revellers returning home.</p>
+
+<p>1.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Duet, "<i>Io t'amo</i>", squealed upon the tiles, by the famous
+feline vocalists Mademoiselle Minette and Signor Catterwaulini.</p>
+
+<p>2 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Barc-arole and chorus, "<i>Bow wow wow</i>" (<span class="smcap">Bach</span>), by the Bayers of
+the Moon.</p>
+
+<p>3 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Song without words, by the early village cock.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_064.png">
+<img src="images/i_064.png" width="100%" alt="REDCAR" /></a>
+<h3>REDCAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>3.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Chorus by his neighbours, high and low, mingling the treble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+of the Bantam with the Brahma's thorough bass.</p>
+
+<p>4 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Twittering of swallows, and chirping of early birds, before they
+go to catch their worms.</p>
+
+<p>4.45 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Meeting of two natives, of course <i>just</i> under your window,
+who converse in a stage-whisper at the tip-top of their voices.</p>
+
+<p>5 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Stampede of fishermen, returning from their night's work in
+their heavy boots.</p>
+
+<p>6 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Start of shrimpers, barefooted, but occasionally bawling.</p>
+
+<p>7 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Shutters taken down, and small boys sally forth and shout to one
+another from the two ends of the street.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_065.png">
+<img src="images/i_065.png" width="100%" alt="HEIGHT OF THE SEAS-ON" /></a>
+<h3>ENJOYING THE HEIGHT OF THE SEAS-ON</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>7.15 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;"So-holes! fine fresh so-holes!"</p>
+
+<p>7.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;"Mack'reel! fower a shillun! Ma-a-ack'reel!"</p>
+
+<p>8 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Piano play begins, and goes on until midnight.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>8.25 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Barrel-organ at the corner. Banjo in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>9 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;German band to right of you. Ophicleide out of time, clarionette
+out of tune.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_067a.png"></a>
+<img src="images/i_067a.png" width="100%" alt="OLD AND NEW PEERS" />
+<h3>MEETING OF THE OLD AND NEW PEERS AT BRIGHTON</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>9.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;"Pa-aper, mornin' pa-aper! <i>Daily Telegraft!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>9.45 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;German band to left of you. Clarionette and cornet both out
+of time and tune.</p>
+
+<p>10.15 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;A key-bugler and a bag-piper a dozen yards apart.</p>
+
+<p>11 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Performance of Punch and Toby, who barks more than is good for
+him.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_067b.png">
+<img src="images/i_067b.png" width="100%" alt="WALTON ON THE NAZE" /></a>
+<h3>WALTON ON THE NAZE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>11.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>&mdash;Bellowing black-faced ballad-bawlers, with their banjoes and
+their bones.</p>
+
+<p>Such is our daily programme of music until noon, and such, with sundry
+variations, it continues until midnight. Small wonder that I have so
+little relish for my meals, and that, in spite of the sea air, I can
+hardly sleep a wink. I shall return to Town to-morrow, for surely all
+the street tormentors must be out of it, judging by the numbers that now
+plague the sad seaside.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Miserrimus.</span></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_069.png">
+<img src="images/i_069.png" width="100%" alt="MEAT SUPPLY" /></a>
+<h3>"THE MEAT SUPPLY"</h3>
+<p><i>Bathing-man.</i> "Yes, mum, he's a good old 'orse yet. And he's been in
+the salt water so long, he'll make capital biled beef when we're done
+with him!!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><i>Our Poetess.</i> "Do not talk to me of dinner, Edwin. I must stay by this
+beautiful Sea, and <i>drink it all in</i>!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Bill the Boatman.</i> "Lor! She's a thirsty one too!"</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_066.png">
+<img src="images/i_066.png" width="100%" alt="KILL TIME AT THE SEASIDE" /></a>
+<h3>HOW TO KILL TIME AT THE SEASIDE</h3>
+<p>Hire bath-chairs, put the bath-chairmen inside, and drag them as fast as
+you can up and down the parade.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_068.png">
+<img src="images/i_068.png" width="100%" alt="INOPPORTUNE" /></a>
+<h3>INOPPORTUNE</h3>
+<p><i>Enthusiast of the "No Hat Brigade"</i> (<i>to elderly gentleman, who has
+just lost his hat</i>). "Fine idea this, sir, for the hair, eh?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_070.png">
+<img src="images/i_070.png" width="100%" alt="Beauty and the Beast" /></a>
+<p><i>Jones.</i> "Hullo, Brown, what's the matter with you and
+Mrs. Brown?"</p>
+<p><i>Brown.</i> "Matter? Why, do you know what they call us down here? They
+call us Beauty and the Beast! Now I should like to know what my poor
+wife has done to get such a name as that!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE TREACHEROUS TIDE</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_071a.png">
+<img src="images/i_071a.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I sat on a slippery rock,</p>
+<p class="i2">In the grey cliff's opal shade,</p>
+<p class="i0">And the wanton waves went curvetting by</p>
+<p class="i2">Like a roystering cavalcade.</p>
+<p class="i0">And they doffed their crested plumes,</p>
+<p class="i2">As they kissed the blushing sand,</p>
+<p class="i0">Till her rosy face dimpled over with smiles</p>
+<p class="i2">At the tricks of the frolicsome band.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Then the kittywake laughed, "Ha! ha!"</p>
+<p class="i2">And the sea-mew wailed with pain,</p>
+<p class="i0">As she sailed away on the shivering wind</p>
+<p class="i2">To her home o'er the surging main.</p>
+<p class="i0">And the jelly-fish quivered with rage,</p>
+<p class="i2">While the dog-crabs stood by to gaze,</p>
+<p class="i0">And the star-fish spread all her fingers abroad,</p>
+<p class="i2">And sighed for her grandmothers' days.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_071b.png">
+<img src="images/i_071b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">And the curlew screamed, "Fie! fie!"</p>
+<p class="i2">And the great gull groaned at the sight,</p>
+<p class="i0">And the albatross rose and fled with a shriek</p>
+<p class="i2">To her nest on the perilous height.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<center>       *       *       *       *       *       </center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Good gracious! the place where I sat</p>
+<p class="i2">With sea-water was rapidly filling,</p>
+<p class="i0">And a hoarse voice cried, "Sir, you're caught by the tide!</p>
+<p class="i2">And I'll carry ye off for a shilling!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<table summary="cartoons">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/i_072b.png">
+<img src="images/i_072b.png" width="100%" alt="SCENT BEES" /></a>
+<h3>SCENT BEES</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 90%">
+<a href="images/i_072a.png">
+<img src="images/i_072a.png" width="100%" alt="A SAIL OVER THE BAY" /></a>
+<h3>A SAIL OVER THE BAY</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Local Colour.</span>"&mdash;<span class="smcap">Place</span>: South Parade, Cheapenham-on-Sea.&mdash;<i>Edith.</i>
+"Mabel dear, would you get me <i>Baedeker's Switzerland</i> and the last
+Number of the <i>World</i>."</p>
+
+<p><i>Mabel.</i> "What do you want <i>them</i> for?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Edith.</i> "Oh, I'm writing letters, and we're in the Engadine, you know,
+and I just want to describe some of our favourite haunts, and mention a
+few of the people who are staying there&mdash;here, I mean."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE LAY OF THE LAST LODGER</h2>
+
+<center>I.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p><img class="dropimg" src="images/i_073.png" alt="O" width="35%" /></p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="dropcapa">O</span>h dreary, dreary, dreary me!</p>
+<p class="i2">&nbsp;My jaw is sore with yawning&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">I'm weary of the dreary sea,</p>
+<p class="i0">With its roaring beach</p>
+<p class="i0">Where sea-gulls screech,</p>
+<p class="i0">And shrimpers shrimp,</p>
+<p class="i0">And limpets limp,</p>
+<p class="i0">And winkles wink,</p>
+<p class="i0">And trousers shrink;</p>
+<p class="i0">And the groaning, moaning, droning tide</p>
+<p class="i0">Goes splashing and dashing from side to side,</p>
+<p class="i0">With all its might, from morn to night,</p>
+<p class="i2">And from night to morning's dawning.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<center>II.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The shore's a flood of puddly mud,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the rocks are limy and slimy&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">And I've tumbled down with a thud&mdash;good lud!&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">And I fear I swore,</p>
+<p class="i0">For something tore;</p>
+<p class="i0">And my shoes are full</p>
+<p class="i0">Of the stagnant pool;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="i0">And hauling, sprawling, crawling crabs</p>
+<p class="i0">Have got in my socks with starfish and dabs;</p>
+<p class="i0">And my pockets are swarming with polypes and prawns,</p>
+<p class="i0">And noisome beasts with shells and horns,</p>
+<p class="i0">That scrunch and scrape, and goggle and gape,</p>
+<p class="i0">Are up my sleeve, I firmly believe&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">And I'm horribly rimy and grimy.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<center>III.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I'm sick of the strand, and the sand, and the band,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the niggers and jiggers and dodgers;</p>
+<p class="i0">And the cigars of rather doubtful brand;</p>
+<p class="i0">And my landlady's "rights",</p>
+<p class="i0">And the frequent fights</p>
+<p class="i0">On wretched points</p>
+<p class="i0">Of ends of joints,</p>
+<p class="i0">Which disappear, with my brandy and beer,</p>
+<p class="i0">In a way that, to say the least, is queer.</p>
+<p class="i0">And to mingle among the throng I long,</p>
+<p class="i0">And to poke my joke and warble my song&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">But there's no one near</p>
+<p class="i0">On sands or pier,</p>
+<p class="i0">For everyone's gone and I'm left alone,</p>
+<p class="i2">The Last of the Seaside Lodgers!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Note by Our Man Out of Town</span>&mdash;Watering places&mdash;resorts where the visitor
+is pumped dry.</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_074.png">
+<img src="images/i_074.png" width="100%" alt="A STARTLING PROPOSITION" /></a>
+<h3>A STARTLING PROPOSITION</h3>
+<p><i>Seedy Individual</i> (<i>suddenly and with startling vigour</i>)&mdash;</p>
+<div class="poem w24"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Aoh! Floy with me ercross ther sea,</p>
+<p class="i0">Ercross ther dork lergoon!!"</p>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_076.png">
+<img src="images/i_076.png" width="100%" alt="CROWDED STATE OF LODGING HOUSES" /></a>
+<h3>CROWDED STATE OF LODGING HOUSES</h3>
+<p><i>Lodging-House Keeper.</i> "On'y this room to let, mem. A four-post&mdash;a
+tent&mdash;and a very comfortable double-bedded chest of drawers for the
+young gentlemen."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A WET DAY AT THE SEASIDE</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_075.png">
+<img src="images/i_075.png" width="100%" alt="FILEY" /></a>
+<h3>FILEY</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Why does not some benefactor to his species discover and publish to a
+grateful world some rational way of spending a wet day at the seaside?
+Why should it be something so unutterably miserable and depressing that
+its mere recollection afterwards makes one shudder?</p>
+
+<p>This is the first really wet day that we have had for a fortnight, but
+what a day! From morn to dewy eve, a summer's day, and far into the
+black night, the pitiless rain has poured and poured and poured. I broke
+the unendurable monotony of gazing from the weeping windows of my
+seaside lodging, by rushing out wildly and plunging madly into the rainy
+sea, and got drenched to the skin both going and returning. After
+changing everything, as people say but don't mean, and thinking I saw
+something like a break in the dull leaden clouds, I again rushed out,
+and called on Jones, who has rooms in an adjacent terrace, and, with
+some difficulty, persuaded him to accompany me to the only billiard
+table in the miserable place. We both got gloriously wet on our way to
+this haven of amusement, and were received with the pleasing
+intelligence that it was engaged by a private party of two, who had
+taken it until the rain ceased, and, when that most improbable event
+happened, two other despairing lodgers had secured the reversion.
+Another rush home, another drenching, another change of everything,
+except the weather, brought the welcome sight of dinner, over which we
+fondly lingered for nearly two mortal hours.</p>
+
+<p>But one cannot eat all day long, even at the seaside on a wet day, and
+accordingly at four o'clock I was again cast upon my own resources.</p>
+
+<p>I received, I confess, a certain amount of grim satisfaction at seeing
+Brown&mdash;Bumptious Brown, as we call him in the City, he being a common
+councilman, or a liveryman, or something of that kind&mdash;pass by in a fly,
+with heaps of luggage and children, all looking so depressingly
+wet,&mdash;and if he had not the meanness to bring with him, in a half-dozen
+hamper,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> six bottles of his abominable Gladstone claret! He grinned at
+me as he passed, like a Chester cat, I think they call that remarkable
+animal, and I afterwards learnt the reason. He had been speculating for
+a rise in wheat, and, as he vulgarly said, the rain suited his book, and
+he only hoped it would last for a week or two! Ah! the selfishness of
+some men! What cared he about my getting wet through twice in one day,
+so long as it raised the price of his wretched wheat?</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i_083.png">
+<img src="images/i_083.png" width="100%" alt="SECURING A LIVELY-HOOD" /></a>
+<h3>BOATMAN SECURING A LIVELY-HOOD</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>My wife coolly recommended me to read the second volume of a new novel
+she had got from the Library, called, I think, <i>East Glynne</i>, or some
+such name, but how can a man read in a room with four stout healthy boys
+and a baby, especially when the said baby is evidently very
+uncomfortable, and the four boys are playing at leap-frog? Women have
+this wonderful faculty, my wife to a remarkable extent. I have often,
+with unfeigned astonishment, seen her apparently lost in the sentimental
+troubles of some imaginary heroine, while the noisy domestic realities
+around her have gone on unheeded.</p>
+
+<p>I again took my place at the window, and gazed upon the melancholy sea,
+and remembered, with a smile of bitter irony, how I had agreed to pay an
+extra guinea a week for the privilege of facing the sea!&mdash;and such a
+sea! It was, of course, very low water&mdash;it generally is at this charming
+place; and the sea had retired to its extremest distance, as if utterly
+ashamed of its dull, damp, melancholy appearance. And there stood that
+ridiculous apology for a pier, with its long, lanky, bandy legs, on
+which I have been dragged every evening to hear the band play. Such a
+band! The poor wheezy cornet was bad enough, but the trombone, with its
+two notes that it jerked out like the snorts of a starting train, was a
+caution. Oh! that poor "<i>Sweetheart</i>", with which we were favoured every
+evening! I always pictured her to myself sitting at a window listening,
+enraptured, to a serenade from that trombone!</p>
+
+<p>But there's no band to-night, not a solitary promenader on the
+bandy-legged pier, I even doubt if the pier master is sitting as usual
+at the receipt of custom, and I pull down the blind, to shut out the
+miserable prospect, with such an energetic jerk that I bring down the
+whole complicated machinery, and nearly frighten baby into a fit, while
+the four irreverent boys indulge in a loud guffaw.</p>
+
+<p>Thank goodness, on Saturday I exchange our miserable, wheezy, asthmatic
+band for the grand orchestra of the Covent Garden Promenade Concerts,
+and the awful perfume of rotten seaweed for the bracing atmosphere of
+glorious London.</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">An Outsider.</span>
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_077.png">
+<img src="images/i_077.png" width="100%" alt="ON HIS HONEYMOON TOO" /></a>
+<h3>ON HIS HONEYMOON TOO!</h3>
+<p><i>Man with Sand Ponies.</i> "Now then, Mister, you an' the young lady, a
+pony apiece? 'Ere y'are!"</p>
+<p><i>Snobley</i> (<i>loftily</i>). "Aw&mdash;I'm not accustomed to that class of animal."</p>
+<p><i>Man</i> (<i>readily</i>). "Ain't yer, sir? Ne' mind." (<i>To boy.</i>) "'Ere, Bill,
+look sharp! Gent'll have a donkey!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SEASIDE SPLITTERS</h2>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="cartoons">
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_078a.png">
+<img src="images/i_078a.png" width="100%" alt="LOW-TIED" /></a>
+<h3>LOW-TIED</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%">
+<a href="images/i_078b.png">
+<img src="images/i_078b.png" width="100%" alt="ROCKS" /></a>
+<h3>ROCKS</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_078c.png">
+<img src="images/i_078c.png" width="100%" alt="SEE-WEED" /></a>
+<h3>SEE-WEED</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/i_078d.png">
+<img src="images/i_078d.png" width="100%" alt="MUSCLE GATHERERS" /></a>
+<h3>MUSCLE GATHERERS</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_078e.png">
+<img src="images/i_078e.png" width="100%" alt="A KNAW WESTER" /></a>
+<h3>A KNAW WESTER</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/i_078f.png">
+<img src="images/i_078f.png" width="100%" alt="HIGH TIED" /></a>
+<h3>HIGH TIED</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+</center>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_079.png">
+<img src="images/i_079.png" width="100%" alt="LIFE WOULD BE PLEASANT" /></a>
+<h3>LIFE WOULD BE PLEASANT, BUT FOR ITS "PLEASURES."&mdash;<i>Sir
+Cornewall Lewis</i></h3>
+<p>In consequence of the English watering-places being crowded, people are
+glad to find sleeping accommodation in the bathing-machines.</p>
+<p><i>Boots</i> (<i>from Jones's Hotel</i>). "I've brought your shaving water, sir;
+and you'll please to take care of your boots on the steps, gents: the
+tide's just a comin' in!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_080.png">
+<img src="images/i_080.png" width="100%" alt="RETURNING HOME" /></a>
+<h3>RETURNING HOME FROM THE SEASIDE</h3>
+<p>All the family have colds, except the under-nurse, who has a face-ache.
+Poor materfamilias, who originated the trip, is in despair at all the
+money spent for nothing, and gives way to tears. Paterfamilias
+endeavours to console her with the reflection that "<i>he</i> knew how it
+would be, but that, after all, St. John's Wood, where they live, is such
+a healthy place that, with care and doctoring, they <i>will soon be nearly
+as well as if they had never left it</i>!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Two gay bachelors may be seen contemplating paterfamilias and his
+little group. Their interest is totally untinged with envy.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_081.png">
+<img src="images/i_081.png" width="100%" alt="OVERHEARD AT SCARBOROUGH" /></a>
+<h3>OVERHEARD AT SCARBOROUGH</h3>
+<p>"Do you know anything good for a cold?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What is it?"</p>
+<p>"Have you got the price of two Scotch whiskies on you?"</p>
+<p>"No."</p>
+<p>"Then it's no use my telling you."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_082.png">
+<img src="images/i_082.png" width="100%" alt="Oh, all sorts" /></a>
+<p><i>Snobson</i> (<i>to inhabitant of out-of-way seaside resort</i>).
+"What sort of people do you get down here in the summer?"</p>
+<p><i>Inhabitant.</i> "Oh, all sorts, zur. There be fine people an' common
+people, an' some just half-an'-half, like yourself, zur."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_084.png">
+<img src="images/i_084.png" width="100%" alt="FROZEN IN THEIR BEDS" /></a>
+<h3>THE OYSTERS AT WHITSTABLE FROZEN IN THEIR BEDS!</h3>
+<center>(<i>See Daily Papers</i>)</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_085.png">
+<img src="images/i_085.png" width="100%" alt="A DELICIOUS DIP" /></a>
+<h3>A DELICIOUS DIP.</h3>
+<p><i>Bathing Attendant.</i> "Here, Bill! The gent wants to be took out
+deep&mdash;take 'im <i>into the drain</i>!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%">
+<a href="images/i_086.png">
+<img src="images/i_086.png" width="100%" alt="Mr. Baskerville&#39;s estate" /></a>
+<p><i>She.</i> "How much was old Mr. Baskerville's estate sworn
+at by his next-of-kin?"</p>
+<p><i>He.</i> "Oh&mdash;a pretty good lot."</p>
+<p><i>She.</i> "Really? Why, I heard he died worth hardly anything!"</p>
+<p><i>He.</i> "Yes, so he did&mdash;that's just it."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_087.png">
+<img src="images/i_087.png" width="100%" alt="Do you smell the iodine" /></a>
+<h3>EVIDENCE OLFACTORY</h3>
+<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>scientific</i>). "Do you smell the iodine from the sea, Edwin?
+Isn't it refreshing?"</p>
+<p><i>Old Salt</i> (<i>overhearing</i>). "What you smell ain't the sea, miss. It's
+the town drains as flows out just 'ere!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_088.png">
+<img src="images/i_088.png" width="100%" alt="OBLIGING" /></a>
+<h3>OBLIGING.</h3>
+<p><i>Excursionist</i> (<i>to himself</i>). "Ullo! 'ere's one o' them artists.
+'Dessay 'e'll want a genteel figger for 'is foreground. I'll <i>stand for
+'im</i>!!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">True Dipsomania.</span>&mdash;Overbathing at the seaside.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>AN IDLE HOLIDAY.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When the days are bright and hot,</p>
+<p class="i2">In the month of August,</p>
+<p class="i0">When the sunny hours are not</p>
+<p class="i2">Marred by any raw gust,</p>
+<p class="i0">Then I turn from toil with glee,</p>
+<p class="i2">Sing a careless canto,</p>
+<p class="i0">And to somewhere by the sea</p>
+<p class="i2">Carry my portmanteau.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Shall I, dreaming on the sand,</p>
+<p class="i2">Pleased with all things finite,</p>
+<p class="i0">Envy Jones who travels and</p>
+<p class="i2">Climbs an Apennine height&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Climbs a rugged peak with pain,</p>
+<p class="i2">Literally speaking,</p>
+<p class="i0">Only to descend again</p>
+<p class="i2">Fagged with pleasure-seeking?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Smith, who, worn with labour, went</p>
+<p class="i2">Off for rest and leisure,</p>
+<p class="i0">Races round the Continent</p>
+<p class="i2">In pursuit of pleasure:</p>
+<p class="i0">Having lunched at B�le, he will</p>
+<p class="i2">At Lucerne his tea take,</p>
+<p class="i0">Riding till he's faint and ill,</p>
+<p class="i2">Tramping till his feet ache.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Shall I, dreaming thus at home,</p>
+<p class="i2">Left ashore behind here,</p>
+<p class="i0">Envy restless men who roam</p>
+<p class="i2">Seeking what I find here?</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+
+<p class="i0">Since beside my native sea,</p>
+<p class="i2">Where I sit to woo it,</p>
+<p class="i0">Pleasure always comes to me,</p>
+<p class="i2">Why should I pursue it?</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i_091.png">
+<img src="images/i_091.png" width="100%" alt="MURMUR OF THE TIED" /></a>
+<h3>THE MURMUR OF THE TIED</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Extra Special.</span>&mdash;<i>Paterfamilias</i> (<i>inspecting bill, to landlady</i>). I
+thought you said, Mrs. Buggins, when I took these apartments, that there
+were no extras, but here I find boots, lights, cruets, fire,
+table-linen, sheets, blankets and kitchen fire charged.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Buggins.</i> Lor' bless you, sir, they're not extras, but
+necessaries.</p>
+
+<p><i>Paterfamilias.</i> What, then, do you consider extras?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Buggins.</i> Well, sir, that's a difficult question to answer, but I
+should suggest salad oil, fly-papers, and turtle soup.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Paterfamilias drops the subject and pays his account.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_090.png">
+<img src="images/i_090.png" width="100%" alt="SUSPICION" /></a>
+<h3>SUSPICION</h3>
+<p><i>Stout Visitor</i> (<i>on discovering that, during his usual nap after
+luncheon, he has been subjected to a grossly personal practical joke</i>).
+"It's one o' those dashed artists that are staying at the 'Lord Nelson'
+'a' done this, I know!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_092.png">
+<img src="images/i_092.png" width="100%" alt="wireless telegraphy" /></a>
+<p><i>Aunt Jane.</i> "It's wonderful how this wireless telegraphy
+is coming into use!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_093.png">
+<img src="images/i_093.png" width="100%" alt="DREAM OF THE SEA" /></a>
+<h3>A DREAM OF THE SEA</h3>
+<p>Ethel, who is not to have a seaside trip this year, dreams every night
+that she and her mamma and aunt and sisters spread their sash-bows and
+panniers and fly away to the yellow sands.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE MARGATE BATHING-WOMAN'S LAMENT</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">It nearly broke my widowed art,</p>
+<p class="i2">When first I tuk the notion,</p>
+<p class="i0">That parties didn't as they used,</p>
+<p class="i2">Take reglar to the ocean.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The hinfants, darling little soles,</p>
+<p class="i2">Still cum quite frequent, bless 'em!</p>
+<p class="i0">But they is only sixpence each,</p>
+<p class="i2">Which hardly pays to dress 'em.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The reason struck me all at once,</p>
+<p class="i2">Says I, "It's my opinion,</p>
+<p class="i0">The grown-up folks no longer bathes</p>
+<p class="i2">Because of them vile Sheenions."</p>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The last as cum drest in that style,</p>
+<p class="i2">Says, as she tuk it horf her,</p>
+<p class="i0">"I'm sure I shall not know the way</p>
+<p class="i2">To re-arrange my quoffur!"</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">By which she ment the ed of air,</p>
+<p class="i2">Which call it wot they will, sir;</p>
+<p class="i0">Cum doubtless off a convict at</p>
+<p class="i2">Millbank or Pentonville, sir.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Parliament should pass a law,</p>
+<p class="i2">Which there's sufficient reason;</p>
+<p class="i0">That folks as wear the Sheenions should</p>
+<p class="i2">Bathe reg'lar in the season.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_094.png">
+<img src="images/i_094.png" width="100%" alt="A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE" /></a>
+<h3>A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>"MERRY MARGIT"</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>Another communication from the side of the dear sea waves</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i_095.png">
+<img src="images/i_095.png" width="100%" alt="DEAL" /></a>
+<h3>DEAL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>I was told it was greatly improved&mdash;that there were alterations in the
+sea-front suggestive of the best moments of the Thames Embankment&mdash;that
+quite "smart" people daily paraded the pier. So having had enough of
+"Urn-bye", I moved on. The improvements scarcely made themselves felt at
+the railway station. Seemingly they had not attracted what Mr. Jeames
+would call "the upper suckles." There were the customary British
+middle-class matron from Peckham, looking her sixty summers to the full
+in a sailor hat; the seaside warrior first cousin to the billiard-marker
+captain with flashy rings, beefy hands, and a stick of pantomime
+proportions, and the theatrical lady whose connection with the stage I
+imagine was confined to capering before the footlights. However, they
+all were there, as I had seen them any summer these twenty years.</p>
+
+<p>But I had been told to go to the Pier, and so to the Pier I went,
+glancing on my way at the entertainers on the sands, many of whom I
+found to be old friends. Amongst them was the "h"-less phrenologist,
+whose insight into character apparently satisfied the parents of any
+child whose head he selected to examine. Thus, if he said that a
+particularly stupid-looking little boy would make a good architect,
+schoolmaster, or traveller for fancy goods, a gentleman in an
+alpaca-coat and a wide-awake hat would bow gratified acquiescence, a
+demonstration that would also be evoked from a lady in a dust cloak,
+when the lecturer insisted that a giggling little girl would make a
+"first-rate dressmaker and cutter-out."</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at the Pier, I found there was twopence to pay for the privilege
+of using the extension, which included a restaurant, a band, some
+talented fleas, and a shop with a window partly devoted to the display
+of glass tumblers, engraved with legends of an amusing character, such
+as "Good old Mother-in-Law", "Jack's Night Cap", "Aunt Julia's Half
+Pint", and so on. There were a number of seats and shelters, and below
+the level of the shops was a landing-stage, at which twice a day two
+steamers from or to London removed or landed passengers. During the rest
+of the four-and-twenty hours it seemed to be occupied by a solitary
+angler, catching chiefly seaweed. The Band, in spite of its uniform, was
+not nearly so military as that at "Urn Bye." It contained a
+pianoforte&mdash;an instrument upon which I found the young gentleman who
+sold the programmes practising during a pause between the morning's
+selection and the afternoon's performances. But still the Band was a
+very tuneful one, and increased the pleasure that the presence of so
+many delightful promenaders was bound to produce. Many of the ladies who
+walked round and round, talking courteously to 'Arry in all his
+varieties, wore men's <i>habits</i>, <i>pur et simple</i> (giving them the
+semblance of appearing in their shirt-sleeves), while their heads were
+adorned with fair wigs and sailor hats, apparently fixed on together.</p>
+
+<p>These free-and-easy-looking damsels did not seem to find favour in the
+eyes of certain other ladies of a sedater type, who regarded them (over
+their novels) with undisguised contempt. These other ladies, I should
+think, from their conversation and appearance, must have been the very
+flowers of the flock of Brixton Rise, and the <i>cr�me de la cr�me</i> of
+Peckham Rye society. Of course there were a number of more or less known
+actors and actresses from London, some of them enjoying a brief holiday,
+and others engaged in the less lucrative occupation of "resting."</p>
+
+<p>However, the dropping of "h's", even to the accompaniment of sweet
+music, sooner or later becomes monotonous, and so, after awhile, I was
+glad to leave the Pier for the attractions of the Upper Cliff. On my way
+I passed a Palace of Pleasure or Varieties, or Something wherein a
+twopenny wax-work show seemed at the moment to be one of its greatest
+attractions. This show contained a Chamber of Horrors, a scene full of
+quiet humour of Napoleon the Third Lying in State, and an old effigy of
+George the Third. The collection included the waxen head of a
+Nonconformist minister, who, according to the lecturer, had been "wery
+good to the poor", preserved in a small deal-box. There was also the
+"Key-Dyevie" of Egypt, General Gordon, and Mrs. Maybrick. Tearing myself
+away from these miscellaneous memories of the past, I ascended to the
+East Cliff, which had still the "apartments-furnished" look that was
+wont to distinguish it of yore. There was no change there; and as I
+walked through the town, which once, as a watering-place, was second
+only in importance to Bath,&mdash;which a century ago had for its M.C. a
+rival of Beau Nash,&mdash;I could not help thinking how astonished the ghosts
+of the fine ladies and gentlemen who visited "Meregate" in 1789 must be,
+if they are able to see their successors of to-day&mdash;"Good Old Chawlie
+Cadd", and Miss Topsie Stuart Plantagenet, <i>n�e</i> Tompkins.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<img src="images/i_096.png" width="100%" alt="Want a donkey" />
+<a href="images/i_096.png"></a>
+<br />
+<p><i>Boy</i> (<i>to Brown, who is exceedingly proud of his
+sporting appearance</i>). "Want a donkey, mister?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_097.png">
+<img src="images/i_097.png" width="100%" alt="NICE FOR THE VISITORS" /></a>
+<h3>"NICE FOR THE VISITORS"</h3>
+<center>(Sketch outside a fashionable hotel)</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_098.png">
+<img src="images/i_098.png" width="100%" alt="INCORRIGIBLE" /></a>
+<h3>INCORRIGIBLE</h3>
+<p><i>Visitor.</i> "Well, my man, I expect it must have cost you a lot of money
+to paint your nose that colour!"</p>
+<p><i>Reprobate.</i> "Ah, an' if Oi cud affoord it, Oi'd have it <i>varnished</i>
+now!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_099.png">
+<img src="images/i_099.png" width="100%" alt="NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE" /></a>
+<h3>"NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE"</h3>
+<p><i>Materfamilias</i> (<i>just arrived at Shrimpville&mdash;the children had been
+down a month before</i>). "Well, Jane, have you found it dull?"</p>
+<p><i>Nurse.</i> "It was at fust, M'm. There was nothink to improve the mind,
+M'm, till the niggers come down!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_100.png">
+<img src="images/i_100.png" width="100%" alt="BY THE SAD SEA WAVES" /></a>
+<h3>BY THE SAD SEA WAVES</h3>
+<p>"But, are you sure?"</p>
+<p>"Yus, lady. 'E's strong as an 'orse!"</p>
+<p>"But how am I to get on?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, <i>I'll lift yer</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_101.png">
+<img src="images/i_101.png" width="100%" alt="DELICATE ATTENTION" /></a>
+<h3>DELICATE ATTENTION</h3>
+<p><i>Confiding Spinster.</i> "I'm afraid the sea is too cold for me this
+morning, Mr. Swabber."</p>
+<p><i>Bathing Man.</i> "Cold, miss! Lor' bless yer, I just took and powered a
+kittle o' bilin' water in to take the chill off when I see you a
+comin'!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_102.png">
+<img src="images/i_102.png" width="100%" alt="HOLIDAY PLEASURES" /></a>
+<h3>HOLIDAY PLEASURES</h3>
+<p><i>Injured Individual.</i> "Heigho! I <i>did</i> think I should find some refuge
+from the miseries of the seaside in the comforts of a bed! Just look
+where my feet are, Maria!"</p>
+<p><i>His Wife.</i> "<i>Well</i>, John! it's <i>only</i> for a <i>month</i>, you know!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_103.png">
+<img src="images/i_103.png" width="100%" alt="BLIGHTED HOPES" /></a>
+<h3>BLIGHTED HOPES</h3>
+<p><i>Extract of letter from Laura to Lillie</i>:&mdash;"I declare, dear, I never
+gave the absurd creature the slightest encouragement. I did say, one
+evening, I thought the little sandy coves about Wobbleswick were
+charming, especially one. <i>The idea!</i>&mdash;of his thinking I was alluding to
+him!"&mdash;&mdash; &amp;c., &amp;c.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_104.png">
+<img src="images/i_104.png" width="100%" alt="SENSITIVE" /></a>
+<h3>SENSITIVE</h3>
+<p>"I think I told you, in my letter of the first of October, of his absurd
+interpretation of an innocent remark of mine about the sandy shores of
+Wobbleswick. Well, would you believe it, dear! we were strolling on the
+Esplanade, the other day, when he suddenly left Kate and me, and took
+himself off in a tremendous huff because we said we liked walking <i>with
+an object</i>!!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Extract from a later letter of Laura's to Lillie.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_105.png">
+<img src="images/i_105.png" width="100%" alt="No bathing to-day" /></a>
+<h3>PREHISTORIC PEEPS</h3>
+<center>"No bathing to-day!"</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_106.png">
+<img src="images/i_106.png" width="100%" alt="residential flats" /></a>
+<h3>PREHISTORIC PEEPS</h3>
+<p>A Nocturne which would seem to show that "residential flats" were not
+wholly unknown even in primeval times!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_107.png">
+<img src="images/i_107.png" width="100%" alt="we&#39;ll have a drink" /></a>
+<p><i>Blinks.</i> "The sun 'll be over the yard-arm in ten
+minutes. <i>Then</i> we'll have a drink!"</p>
+<p><i>Jinks.</i> "I think I'll have one while I'm waiting!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_108.png">
+<img src="images/i_108.png" width="100%" alt="TRIALS OF A CONVALESCENT" /></a>
+<h3>TRIALS OF A CONVALESCENT</h3>
+<p><i>Tompkins</i> (<i>in a feeble voice, for the fourth or fifth time, with no
+result</i>). "Chairman!!! chairman!!!"</p>
+<p><i>That Awful Boy.</i> "Lydies and gentlemen&mdash;&mdash;!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SEASIDE ASIDES</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>Paterfamilias in North Cornwall</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_109.png">
+<img src="images/i_109.png" width="100%" alt="man admiring view" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Oh! how delightful now at last to come</p>
+<p class="i2">Away from town&mdash;its dirt, its degradation,</p>
+<p class="i0">Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum.</p>
+<p class="i2">(A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.)</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">For what could mortal man or maid want more</p>
+<p class="i2">Than breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up,</p>
+<p class="i0">Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore?</p>
+<p class="i2">(There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.)</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Your honest face here earns an honest brown,</p>
+<p class="i2">You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather,</p>
+<p class="i0">Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down</p>
+<p class="i2">(Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather).</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers.</p>
+<p class="i2">And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney;</p>
+<p class="i0">No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears.</p>
+<p class="i2">(A German band has just played "<i>Annie Rooney</i>".)</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish cream</p>
+<p class="i2">The boys from school all say is "simply ripping."</p>
+<p class="i0">The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream."</p>
+<p class="i2">(The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.)</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A happiness of resting after strife,</p>
+<p class="i2">Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow,</p>
+<p class="i0">And one contentedly could pass one's life.</p>
+<p class="i2">(A telegram will take <i>me</i> home to-morrow.)</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Scene: Margate Beach on Easter Monday.</span>&mdash;<i>First Lady.</i> "Oh, here comes a
+steamer. How high she is out of the water."</p>
+<p><i>Second Lady.</i> "Yes, dear, but don't you see? It's because the tide's so
+low."</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_110.png">
+<img src="images/i_110.png" width="100%" alt="The aristocratic Jones" /></a>
+<h3>AWKWARD</h3>
+<p><i>The aristocratic Jones</i> (<i>rather ashamed of his loud acquaintance,
+Brown</i>). "You must excuse me, but if there's one thing in the world I
+particularly object to, it's to having anybody take my arm!"</p>
+<p><i>Brown.</i> "All right, old fellow!&mdash;<i>you</i> take <i>mine</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE SEASIDE VISITOR'S VADE MECUM.</h2>
+
+<p><i>Question.</i> Is it your intention to leave London at once to benefit by
+the ocean breezes on the English coast?</p>
+
+<p><i>Answer.</i> Certainly, with the bulk of my neighbours.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Then the metropolis will become empty?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Practically, for only about three and a half millions out of the
+four millions will be left behind.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> What do you consider the remaining residuum?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> From a West End point of view a negligible quantity.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Do not some of the Eastenders visit the seaside?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Yes, at an earlier period in the year, when they pay rather more
+for their accommodation than their neighbours of the West.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> How can this be, if it be assumed that the East is poorer than the
+West?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> The length of the visit is governed by the weight of the purse.
+Belgravia stays a couple of months at Eastbourne, while three days at
+Margate is enough for Shoreditch.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Has a sojourn by the sea waves any disadvantages?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Several. In the first instance, lodgings are frequently expensive
+and uncomfortable. Then there is always a chance that the last lodgers
+may have occupied their rooms as convalescents. Lastly, it is not
+invariably the case that the climate agrees with himself and his family.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> And what becomes of the house in town?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> If abandoned to a caretaker, the reception rooms may be used by her
+own family as best chambers, and if let to strangers, the furniture may
+be injured irretrievably.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> But surely in the last case there would be the certainty of
+pecuniary indemnity?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Cherished relics cannot be restored by their commonplace value in
+money.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Then, taking one thing with another, the benefit of a visit to the
+seaside is questionable?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Assuredly; and an expression of heartfelt delight at the
+termination of the outing and the consequent return home is the
+customary finish to the, styled by courtesy, holiday.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> But has not the seaside visit a compensating advantage?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> The seaside visit has a compensating advantage of overwhelming
+proportions, which completely swallows up and effaces all suggestions of
+discomfort&mdash;it is the fashion.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_111.png"></a>
+<img src="images/i_111.png" width="100%" alt="leave me alone" />
+<h3>PARIS?</h3>
+<p>"Not if I know it! Give me a quiet month at the seaside, and leave me
+alone, please!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_112.png">
+<img src="images/i_112.png" width="100%" alt="CONVERSATIONAL PITFALLS" /></a>
+<h3>CONVERSATIONAL PITFALLS</h3>
+<p><i>Irene.</i> "Do you remember Kitty Fowler?"</p>
+<p><i>Her Friend.</i> "No, I don't."</p>
+<p><i>Irene.</i> "Oh, you <i>must</i> remember Kitty. She was the plainest girl in
+Torquay. But I forgot&mdash;that was after you left!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_113.png">
+<img src="images/i_113.png" width="100%" alt="I&#39;m a temperance man" /></a>
+<p><i>Visitor.</i> "Have you ever seen the sea-serpent?"</p>
+<p><i>Boatman.</i> "No, sir. I'm a temperance man."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_114.png">
+<img src="images/i_114.png" width="100%" alt="Take care of the paint" /></a>
+<h3>SEPARATE INTERESTS</h3>
+<p><i>Husband.</i> "Hi! Maria! Take care of the paint!"</p>
+<p><i>Painter.</i> "It don't matter, ma'am. It'll all 'ave to be painted
+again!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_115.png">
+<img src="images/i_115.png" width="100%" alt="CAUTION" /></a>
+<h3>CAUTION TO YOUNG LADIES WHO RIDE IN CRINOLINE ON DONKEYS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_116.png">
+<img src="images/i_116.png" width="100%" alt="it&#39;s a little too dressy" /></a>
+<h3>MARGATE</h3>
+<p><i>Chatty Visitor.</i> "I like the place. I always come here. 'Worst of it
+is, it's a little too dressy!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_117.png">
+<img src="images/i_117.png" width="100%" alt="UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS" /></a>
+<h3>UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS</h3>
+<p><i>Shy but Susceptible Youth.</i> "Er&mdash;<i>could</i> you tell me who that young
+lady is&mdash;sketching?"</p>
+<p><i>Affable Stranger.</i> "She has the misfortune to be my wife!"</p>
+<p><i>Shy but Susceptible One</i> (<i>desperately anxious to please, and losing
+all presence of mind</i>). "Oh&mdash;the misfortune's entirely <i>yours</i>, I'm
+<i>sure</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Brilliant Suggestion</span> (<i>Overheard at the Seaside</i>).&mdash;<i>She.</i> "So much
+nicer now that all the visitors have gone. Don't you think so?"</p>
+
+<p><i>He.</i> "Yes, by Jove! So jolly nice and quiet! Often wonder that
+<i>everybody</i> doesn't come now when there's nobody here, don't you know!"</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_118.png">
+<img src="images/i_118.png" width="100%" alt="A NUISANCE" /></a>
+<h3>A NUISANCE.</h3>
+<p><i>Miss Priscilla.</i> "Yes; it's a beautiful view. But tourists are in the
+habit of bathing on the opposite shore, and that's rather a drawback."</p>
+<p><i>Fair Visitor.</i> "Dear me! but at such a distance as that&mdash;surely&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p><i>Miss Priscilla.</i> "Ah, but with a <i>telescope</i>, you know!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE SEASIDE PHOTOGRAPHER</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/i_119.png">
+<img src="images/i_119.png" width="100%" alt="Photographer taking picture" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I do not mean the Kodak fiend,</p>
+<p class="i2">Who takes snap-shots of ladies dipping,</p>
+<p class="i0">And gloats o'er sundry views he's gleaned</p>
+<p class="i2">Of amatory couples "tripping."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">No, not these playful amateurs</p>
+<p class="i2">I sing of, but the serious artist,</p>
+<p class="i0">Who spreads upon the beach his lures,</p>
+<p class="i2">What time the season's at its smartest.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">His tongue is glib, his terms are cheap,</p>
+<p class="i2">For ninepence while you wait he'll take you;</p>
+<p class="i0">Posterity shall, marv'lling, keep</p>
+<p class="i2">The "tin-type" masterpiece he'll make you.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What though his camera be antique,</p>
+<p class="i2">His dark-room just a nose-bag humble,</p>
+<p class="i0">What if his tripod legs are weak,</p>
+<p class="i2">And threaten constantly to tumble.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">No swain nor maiden can withstand</p>
+<p class="i2">His invitation arch, insidious,</p>
+<p class="i0">To pose <i>al fresco</i> on the strand&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">His <i>client�le</i> are not fastidious.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"You are so lovely", says the wretch,</p>
+<p class="i2">"Your picture will be quite entrancing!"</p>
+<p class="i0">And to the lady in the sketch</p>
+<p class="i2">I overheard him thus romancing.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_120.png">
+<img src="images/i_120.png" width="100%" alt="THE RULING PASSION" /></a>
+<h3>THE RULING PASSION</h3>
+<p><i>Sir Talbot Howard Vere de Vere.</i> "Ah! Good morning, Mrs. Jones!
+Dreadful accident just occurred. Poor young lady riding along the King's
+Road&mdash;horse took fright&mdash;reared, and fell back upon her&mdash;dreadfully
+injured, I'm sorry to say!"</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. Woodbee Swellington Jones.</i> "<i>Quite</i> too shocking, dear Sir
+Talbot! Was she&mdash;er&mdash;a person of position?"</p>
+<p><i>Sir Talbot Howard Vere de Vere.</i> "<span class="smcap">Position</span>, by George!! Dooced
+uncomfortable position, too, I should say!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_121.png">
+<img src="images/i_121.png" width="100%" alt="fetch me a baby" /></a>
+<h3>FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD</h3>
+<p><i>Bertie.</i> "Gertie, do just go back to the beach and fetch me a baby
+(you'll find a lot about), and I'll show you all the different ways of
+saving it from drowning!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>ANNALS OF A WATERING-PLACE THAT HAS "SEEN ITS DAY"</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_123.png">
+<img src="images/i_123.png" width="100%" alt="TYNEMOUTH" /></a>
+<h3>TYNEMOUTH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The weather which, in Mr. Dunstable's varied experience of
+five-and-twenty years, he assures me, has never been so bad, having at
+length afforded some indications of "breaking", I make the acquaintance,
+through Mrs. Cobbler, of Mr. Wisterwhistle, proprietor of the one
+bath-chair available for the invalid of Torsington-on-Sea, who, like
+myself, stands in need of the salubrious air of that health-giving
+resort, but who is ordered by his medical adviser to secure it with the
+least possible expenditure of physical strength.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_129.png">
+<img src="images/i_129.png" width="100%" alt="INDIAMAN GOING INTO PORT" /></a>
+<h3>INDIAMAN GOING INTO PORT</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Both Mr. Wisterwhistle and his chair are peculiar in their respective
+ways, and each has a decided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+history. Mr. Wisterwhistle, growing confidential over his antecedents,
+says, "You see, sir, I wasn't brought up to the bath-chair business, so
+to speak, for I began in the Royal Navy, under His Majesty King William
+the Fourth. Then I took to the coastguard business, and having put by a
+matter of thirty pound odd, and hearing 'she' was in the market",&mdash;Mr.
+Wisterwhistle always referred to his bath-chair as 'she', evidently
+regarding it from the nautical stand-point as of the feminine
+gender,&mdash;"and knowing, saving your presence, sir, that old Bloxer, of
+whom I bought her, had such a good crop of cripples the last season or
+two, that he often touched two-and-forty shillings a week with 'em, I
+dropped Her Majesty's service, and took to this 'ere. But, Lor, sir, the
+business ain't wot it wos. Things is changed woeful at Torsington since
+I took her up. Then from 9 o'clock, as you might say, to 6 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, every
+hour was took up; and, mind you, by real downright 'aristocracy',&mdash;real
+live noblemen, with gout on 'em, as thought nothink of a two hours'
+stretch, and didn't 'aggle, savin' your presence, over a extra sixpence
+for the job either way. But, bless you, wot's it come to now? Why, she
+might as well lay up in a dry dock arf the week, for wot's come of the
+downright genuine invalid, savin' your presence, blow'd if I knows. One
+can see, of course, sir, in arf a jiffy, as you is touched in the legs
+with the rheumatics, or summat like it; but besides you and a old gent
+on crutches from Portland Buildings, there ain't no real invalid public
+'ere at all, and one can't expect to make a livin' out of you two; for
+if you mean to do the thing ever so 'ansome, it ain't reasonable to
+expect you and the old gent I was a referring to, to stand seven hours a
+day goin' up and down the Esplanade between you, and you see even that
+at a bob an hour ain't no great shakes when you come to pay for 'ousing
+her and keepin' her lookin' spic and span, with all her brass knobs a
+shining and her leather apron fresh polished with patent carriage
+blackin': and Lor, sir, you'd not b'lieve me if I was to tell you what a
+deal of show some parties expects for their one bob an hour. Why, it was
+only the other day that Lady Glumpley (a old party with a front of black
+curls and yaller bows in her bonnet, as I dare say you've noticed me a
+haulin' up and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> down the Parade when the band's a playin'), says to me,
+says she, 'It ain't so much the easygoin' of your chair, Mr.
+Wisterwhistle, as makes me patronise it, as its general genteel
+appearance. For there's many a chair at Brighton that can't hold a
+candle to it!'" But at this point he was interrupted by the appearance
+of a dense crowd that half filled the street, and drew up in silent
+expectation opposite my front door. Dear me, I had quite forgotten I had
+sent for him. But the boy who cleans the boots and knives has returned,
+and brought with him <i>the One Policeman</i>!</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Query at some Fashionable Seaside Resort.</span>&mdash;Do the unpleasant odours
+noticeable at certain times arise from the fact of the tide being high?
+If so, is the tide sometimes higher than usual, as the&mdash;ahem!&mdash;odours
+certainly are?</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_122.png">
+<img src="images/i_122.png" width="100%" alt="PERIL" /></a>
+<h3>PERIL!</h3>
+<p><i>Gruff Voice</i> (<i>behind her&mdash;she thought she heard her own name</i>). "She's
+a gettin' old, Bill, and she sartain'y ain't no beauty! But you and I'll
+smarten her up! Give her a good tarrin' up to the waist, and a streak o'
+paint, and they 'ont know her again when the folks come down a'
+Whitsun'. Come along, and let's ketch 'old of her, and shove her into
+the water fust of all!!"</p>
+<p><i>Miss Isabella.</i> "Oh! the horrid wretches! No policeman in sight!
+Nothing for it but flight!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[Is off like a bird!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_124.png">
+<img src="images/i_124.png" width="100%" alt="PREHISTORIC PEEPS" /></a>
+<h3>PREHISTORIC PEEPS</h3>
+<p>There were even then quiet spots by the sea where one could be alone
+with Nature undisturbed</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_125.png">
+<img src="images/i_125.png" width="80%" alt="A SENSE OF PROPERTY" /></a>
+<h3>A SENSE OF PROPERTY</h3>
+<p><i>Botanical Old Gent</i> (<i>in the Brighton Gardens</i>). "Can you tell me, my
+good man, if this plant belongs to the 'Arbutus' family?"</p>
+<p><i>Gardener</i> (<i>curtly</i>). "No, sir, it doan't. It b'longs to the
+Corporation!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_126.png">
+<img src="images/i_126.png" width="100%" alt="THE MINOR ILLS OF LIFE" /></a>
+<h3>THE MINOR ILLS OF LIFE</h3>
+<p>Portrait of a gentleman attempting to regain his tent after the morning
+bath</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_127.png">
+<img src="images/i_127.png" width="100%" alt="MERMAIDS&#39; TOILETS IN &#39;67" /></a>
+<h3>MERMAIDS' TOILETS IN '67</h3>
+<p><i>Blanche.</i> "I say, some of you, call after aunty! She has taken my
+<i>chignon</i>, and left me her horrid black one!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_128.png">
+<img src="images/i_128.png" width="100%" alt="LOW TIDE ON SCARBOROUGH SANDS" /></a>
+<h3>LOW TIDE ON SCARBOROUGH SANDS&mdash;BATHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES</h3>
+<p>The captain, who is well up in his classics, translates, for his Fanny's
+benefit, a celebrated Latin poem (by one Lucretius) to the effect that
+it is sweet to gaze from the cliff at the bathing machines vainly
+struggling to take the unfortunate bathers into deep water.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_130.png">
+<img src="images/i_130.png" width="100%" alt="SEASIDE PUZZLE" /></a>
+<h3>SEASIDE PUZZLE</h3>
+<p>To find your bathing-machine if you've forgotten the number.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_131.png">
+<img src="images/i_131.png" width="100%" alt="VENUS RISES FROM THE SEA" /></a>
+<h3>VENUS (ANNO DOMINI 1892) RISES FROM THE SEA!!</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Seaside Drama.</span>&mdash;<i>Mrs. de Tomkyns</i> (<i>sotto voce, to Mr. de T.</i>).
+"Ludovic, dear, there's Algernon playing with a strange child! <i>Do</i>
+prevent it!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. de T.</i> (<i>ditto, to Mrs. de T.</i>). "How on earth am I to prevent it,
+my love?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. de T.</i> "Tell its parents Algernon is just recovering from scarlet
+fever, or something!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. de T.</i> "But it isn't true!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. de T.</i> "Oh, never mind! Tell them, all the same!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. de T.</i> (<i>aloud</i>). "Ahem! Sir, you'd better not let your little girl
+play with my little boy. He's only just recovering from&mdash;er&mdash;<i>Scarlet
+Fever</i>!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins</i> (<i>together</i>). "It's all right, sir!&mdash;<i>so's our
+little gal!</i>"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_132.png">
+<img src="images/i_132.png" width="100%" alt="MIXED BATHING" /></a>
+<h3>MIXED BATHING</h3>
+<p><i>Fussy Landlady</i> (<i>to new Lodger</i>). "Well, sir, if you'll only tell me
+when you want a bath, <i>I'll see you have it</i>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>BY THE SEASIDE</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>A Gasp and a Growl from Paterfamilias Fogey</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_133.png">
+<img src="images/i_133.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">In for it here,</p>
+<p class="i2">Six weeks or more,</p>
+<p class="i0">Once every year</p>
+<p class="i2">(Yah, what a bore!)</p>
+<p class="i0">Daughters and wife</p>
+<p class="i2">Force me to bide</p>
+<p class="i0">Mad to "see life"</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Go out of town</p>
+<p class="i2">What if we do?</p>
+<p class="i0">Hither comes down</p>
+<p class="i2">All the world too;</p>
+<p class="i0">Vanity Fair,</p>
+<p class="i2">Fashion and Pride,</p>
+<p class="i0">Seeking fresh air</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Drest up all hands&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Raiment how dear!&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Down on the sands,</p>
+<p class="i2">Out on the Pier,</p>
+<p class="i0">Pace to and fro,</p>
+<p class="i2">See, as at Ryde,</p>
+<p class="i0">Off how they show</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_135a.png">
+<img src="images/i_135a.png" width="100%" alt="TORQUAY" /></a>
+<h3>TORQUAY (TALKEY)</h3>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Fops and fine girls,</p>
+<p class="i2">Swarm, brisk as bees;</p>
+<p class="i0">Ribbons and curls</p>
+<p class="i2">Float on the breeze;</p>
+<p class="i0">Females and males</p>
+<p class="i2">Eye and are eyed;</p>
+<p class="i0">Ogling prevails</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Daughters may see</p>
+<p class="i2">Some fun in that.</p>
+<p class="i0">Wife, how can she,</p>
+<p class="i2">Grown old and fat?</p>
+<p class="i0">Scene I survey</p>
+<p class="i2">But to deride,</p>
+<p class="i0">Idle display</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside.</p>
+
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Views within reach,</p>
+<p class="i2">Picturesque scenes,</p>
+<p class="i0">Rocks on the beach,</p>
+<p class="i2">Bathing machines,</p>
+<p class="i0">Shingle and pools,</p>
+<p class="i2">Left by the tide,</p>
+<p class="i0">Youth, far from schools,</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_135b.png">
+<img src="images/i_135b.png" width="100%" alt="HASTINGS" /></a>
+<h3>HASTINGS</h3>
+</div>
+
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Artists may sketch,</p>
+<p class="i2">Draw and design,</p>
+<p class="i0">Pencil, or etch;</p>
+<p class="i2">Not in my line.</p>
+<p class="i0">Money, no end,</p>
+<p class="i2">Whilst I am tied</p>
+<p class="i0">Here, I must spend,</p>
+<p class="i2">By the seaside!</p>
+</div></div>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i_134.png">
+<img src="images/i_134.png" width="100%" alt="&#39;ave a bit of supper" /></a>
+<p><i>Snooks</i> (<i>to new acquaintance</i>). "Tell yer what, look in
+one evenin' and 'ave a bit of supper, if you don't mind 'avin it in the
+kitchen. Yer see, we're plain people, and don't put on no side. Of
+course, I know as a toff like you 'ud 'ave it in the <i>drawing-room</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_136.png">
+<img src="images/i_136.png" width="100%" alt="GENTILITY IN GREENS" /></a>
+<h3>GENTILITY IN GREENS</h3>
+<p><i>Mrs. Brown finds Sandymouth a very different place from what she
+remembers it years ago.</i></p>
+<p><i>Greengrocer.</i> "Cabbage, mum!? We don't keep no second-class vegetables,
+mum. You'll get it at the lower end o' the town!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SEASIDE VIEWS</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_137.png">
+<img src="images/i_137.png" width="100%" alt="KINGSWEAR" /></a>
+<h3>KINGSWEAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Tom Jones</i> (<i>in love</i>). The most heavenly place I ever was in. The sun
+is warmer, the sky bluer, the sea the calmest I ever knew. Joy sparkles
+on every pebble; Art spreads its welcome arms through every spray of
+seaweed. True happiness encircles me on every breeze, and Beauty is by
+my side.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Jones.</i> Beastly slow. All sea and sky, and ugly round stones. You
+can't bask in the sun because there is none&mdash;it's always raining&mdash;and
+because the flints worry your back. Confound the children, scraping up
+the wet sand and smelling seaweeds! It must be time for them to go to
+bed or to lessons or something. Wherever you sit there is sure to be a
+draught, and such heaps of old women you can't put your legs up on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+seat. Hang it all, there isn't a young girl in the place, let alone
+pretty ones.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_139.png">
+<img src="images/i_139.png" width="100%" alt="O-SHUN SHELLS" /></a>
+<h3>O-SHUN SHELLS!</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Young Brown</i> (<i>waiting for a Commission</i>). Awfully dull. Quite too
+excessively detestable. Not a fellow to talk to, you know, who knows
+anything about the Leger, or draw-poker, or modern education, you know.
+Can't get introduced to Lady Tom Peeper. Nobody to do it. Wish my
+moustache would curl. Pull it all day, you know, but it won't come. Lady
+Tom smiled, on the Parade to-day. Got very red, but I shall smile too
+to-morrow. A man must do something in this dreadful place.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_143.png">
+<img src="images/i_143.png" width="100%" alt="A SANDY COVE" /></a>
+<h3>A SANDY COVE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Major Brown</i> (<i>Heavies</i>). Not half bad kind of diggings. Quite in
+clover. Found Lydia here&mdash;I mean Lady Tom Peeper. Horribly satirical
+woman, though. Keeps one up to the mark. I shall have to read up to keep
+pace with her. I shouldn't like to be chaffed by her. Better friend than
+enemy. Poor Tom Peeper! he must have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> bad time of it! Can't say "Bo"
+to a gosling. And she knows it. That's why he never comes down here.
+Coast clear. Fancy she's rather sweet on me. By Jove! we had a
+forty-mile-an-hour-express flirtation before her marriage! Must take
+care what I'm about now. Mustn't have a collision with Tom&mdash;good old
+man, after all, if he is a fool. Take this note round, Charles, to the
+same place.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_141.png">
+<img src="images/i_141.png" width="100%" alt="CUTTER ON THE BEECH" /></a>
+<h3>A CUTTER ON THE BEECH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Robinson</i> (<i>Materfamilias</i>). Scarcely room to swing a cot, for
+baby. Thank goodness, all the children are on the beach. I hope Mary Ann
+won't let out to the other nurses that Totty had the scarlet fever. He's
+quite well now, poor little man, and no one will be any the worse for
+it. Horrid! of course. No, it is not a Colorado beetle, Robinson. They
+infest the curtains; we did not bring them with us in our trunks. Do go
+out and buy some insect-powder, instead of looking stupid behind that
+nasty cigar. Oh, and get some soap and some tooth-powder, and order
+baby's tonic, and Jane's iron&mdash;mind, sesqui-sulphate of iron (I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> suppose
+I must find the prescription), and a box of&mdash;what's that stuff for sore
+throats? And do hire a perambulator with a hood. And we have no dessert
+for to-morrow&mdash;you know, or you ought to know, it's Sunday. Some fruit,
+and what you like. Oh! and don't forget some biscuits for the dog. What
+has become of Tiny? Tiny! Tiny! I know he did not go with the children.
+I dare say he has eaten something horrid, and is dying under a chair.
+Dear! dear! who would be mother of a family with such a careless,
+thoughtless, quite too utterly selfish husband as you are. Of course you
+never remembered to-day was my birthday. I ought never to have been
+born. A bracelet or a pair of ear-rings&mdash;or, by the way, I saw a lovely
+ch�telaine on the Parade. You might find enough to give me one pleasure
+since our wedding.</p>
+
+<p><i>Robinson</i> (<i>Paterfamilias</i>). I like the seaside, I do. When will it be
+over?</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_138.png">
+<img src="images/i_138.png" width="100%" alt="A FRAGMENT" /></a>
+<h3>A FRAGMENT</h3>
+<center>
+Augustus knows a certain snug retreat&mdash;<br />
+A little rocky cavern by the sea&mdash;<br />
+Where, sheltered from the rain (and every eye),<br />
+He fondly hopes to breathe his tale of love<br />
+Into his artless Arabella's ear!...
+</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_140.png">
+<img src="images/i_140.png" width="100%" alt="A NEW SENSATION" /></a>
+<h3>LONGING FOR A NEW SENSATION</h3>
+<p><i>Jack</i> (<i>a naughty boy, who is always in disgrace, and most
+deservedly</i>). "I say, Effie, do you know what I should like? I should
+like to be accused of something I'd never done!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<img src="images/i_142.png" width="100%" alt="A LAMENT" />
+<h3>A LAMENT</h3>
+<p><i>Dowager.</i> "It's been the worst season I can remember, Sir James! All
+the men seem to have got married, and none of the girls!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_144.png">
+<img src="images/i_144.png" width="100%" alt="JOYS OF THE SEASIDE" /></a>
+<h3>JOYS OF THE SEASIDE</h3>
+<p><i>Brown.</i> "What beastly weather! And the glass is going steadily down!"</p>
+<p><i>Local Tradesman.</i> "Oh, that's nothing, sir. The glass has no effect
+whatever on <i>our</i> part of the coast!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE BETTER THE DAY, THE BETTER THE TALK!</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_145.png">
+<img src="images/i_145.png" width="100%" alt="BROAD-STARES" /></a>
+<h3>BROAD-STARES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>&mdash;<i>Any fashionable Watering-place where "Church Parade" is a
+recognised institution.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Time</span>&mdash;<i>Sunday</i>, 1 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> <i>Enter</i> Brown <i>and</i> Mrs. Brown, <i>who take
+chairs</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Brown.</i> Good gracious! Look another way! Those odious people, the
+Stiggingses, are coming towards us!</p>
+
+<p><i>Brown.</i> Why odious? I think the girls rather nice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Oh, <i>you</i> would, because men are so easily
+taken in! Nice, indeed! Why, here's Major Buttons.</p>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> (<i>moving his head sharply to the right</i>). Don't see him! Can't
+stand the fellow! I always avoid him at the Club!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> Why? Soldiers are always such pleasant men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Buttons a soldier! Years ago he was a
+Lieutenant in a marching regiment, and now holds honorary rank in the
+Volunteers! Soldier, indeed! Bless me! here's Mrs. Fitz-Flummery&mdash;mind
+you don't cut her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> Yes, I shall; the woman is unsupportable. Did you ever see
+<i>such</i> a dress. And she has changed the colour of her hair&mdash;again!</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_147.png">
+<img src="images/i_147.png" width="100%" alt="CURLEW" /></a>
+<h3>CURLEW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> Whether she has or hasn't, she looks particularly pleasing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> (<i>drily</i>). You were always a little eccentric in your taste!
+Why, surely there must be Mr. Pennyfather Robson. How smart he looks!
+Where <i>can</i> he have come from?</p>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> The Bankruptcy Court! (<i>Drily.</i>) You were never particularly famous
+for discrimination. As I live, the Plantagenet Smiths!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>He bows with effusion.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> And the Stuart Joneses. (<i>She kisses her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> hand gushingly</i>). By
+the way, dear, didn't you say that the Plantagenet Smiths were suspected
+of murdering their uncle before they inherited his property?</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_149.png">
+<img src="images/i_149.png" width="100%" alt="ROW ME O" /></a>
+<h3>ROW ME O!</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> So it is reported, darling. And didn't you tell me, my own, that
+the parents of Mr. Stuart Jones were convicts before they became
+millionaires?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> So I have heard, loved one. (<i>Starting up.</i>) Come, Charley, we
+must be off at once! The Goldharts! If they catch us, <i>she</i> is sure to
+ask me to visit some of her sick poor!</p>
+
+<p><i>B.</i> And <i>he</i> to beg me to subscribe to an orphanage or a hospital!
+Here, take your prayer-book, or people won't know that we have come from
+church!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Exeunt hurriedly.</i></p><br /><br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">At Scarborough.</span>&mdash;<i>Miss Araminta Dove.</i> Why do they call this the Spa?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Rhino-Ceros.</i> Oh! I believe the place was once devoted to boxing
+exhibitions.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Miss A.D. as wise as ever.</i></p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_146.png">
+<img src="images/i_146.png" width="100%" alt="BY THE SAD SEA WAVES" /></a>
+<h3>"BY THE SAD SEA WAVES"</h3>
+<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>who has just presented her weekly bill</i>). "I 'ope, ma'am,
+as you find the bracing hair agree with you, ma'am, and your good
+gentleman, ma'am!"</p>
+<p><i>Lady.</i> "Oh, yes, our appetites are wonderfully improved! For instance,
+at home we only eat two loaves a day, and I find, from your account,
+that we can manage eight!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Landlady feels uncomfortable.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_148.png">
+<img src="images/i_148.png" width="100%" alt="RATHER DIFFICULT" /></a>
+<h3>RATHER DIFFICULT</h3>
+<p>"Oh, I say, here comes that dismal bore, Bulkley! Let's pretend <i>we
+don't see him</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_150.png">
+<img src="images/i_150.png" width="100%" alt="PESSIMISM" /></a>
+<h3>PESSIMISM</h3>
+<p><i>Artist</i> (<i>irritated by the preliminaries of composition and the too
+close proximity of an uninteresting native</i>). "I think you needn't wait
+any longer. There's really nothing to look at just now."</p>
+<p><i>Native.</i> "Ay, an' I doot there'll <i>never</i> be muckle to look at there!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE DONKEY-BOYS OF ENGLAND</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>A Song for the Seaside</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p><img class="dropimg" src="images/i_151.png" alt="T" width="40%" /></p>
+<p class="i0"><span class="dropcapa">T</span>he Donkey-Boys of England, how merrily they fly,</p>
+<p class="i0">With pleasant chaff upon the tongue and cunning in the eye.</p>
+<p class="i0">And oh! the donkeys in a mass how patiently they stand,</p>
+<p class="i0">High on the heath of Hampstead, or down on Ramsgate's sand.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they reprove</p>
+<p class="i0">The brute that won't "come over", with an impressive shove;</p>
+<p class="i0">And oh! the eel-like animals, how gracefully they swerve</p>
+<p class="i0">From side to side, but won't advance to spoil true beauty's curve.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Donkey-Boys of England, how manfully they fight,</p>
+<p class="i0">When a probable donkestrian comes suddenly in sight;</p>
+<p class="i0">From nurse's arms the babies are clutch'd with fury wild,</p>
+<p class="i0">And on a donkey carried off the mother sees her child.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they defy</p>
+<p class="i0">The pleadings of a parent's shriek, the infant's piercing cry;</p>
+<p class="i0">As a four-year-old <span class="smcap">Mazeppa</span> is hurried from the spot,</p>
+<p class="i0">Exposed to all the tortures of a donkey's fitful trot.</p>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Donkey-Boys of England, how lustily they scream,</p>
+<p class="i0">When they strive to keep together their donkeys in a team;</p>
+<p class="i0">And the riders who are anxious to be class'd among genteels,</p>
+<p class="i0">Have a crowd of ragged Donkey-boys "hallooing" at their heels.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Donkey-Boys of England, how well they comprehend</p>
+<p class="i0">The animal to whom they act as master, guide, and friend;</p>
+<p class="i0">The understanding that exists between them who'll dispute&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Or that the larger share of it falls sometimes to the brute?</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i_153.png">
+<img src="images/i_153.png" width="100%" alt="THE JETTY" /></a>
+<h3>THE JETTY</h3>
+</div>
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Seaside Acquaintances</span> (<span class="smcap">Scene</span>&mdash;The Shady Side of Pall Mall).&mdash;<i>Snob.</i> My
+Lord, you seem to forget me. Don't you recollect our meeting this summer
+at Harrogate?</p>
+
+<p><i>Swell.</i> My dear fellow, I do not forget it in the least. I recollect
+vividly we swore eternal friendship at Harrogate, and should it be my
+fate to meet you at Harrogate next year, I shall only be too happy to
+swear it again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Lifts his chapeau, and leaves Snob in a state of the most speechless
+amazement.</i></p>
+<br /><br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_152.png">
+<img src="images/i_152.png" width="100%" alt="Portrait of a gentleman" /></a>
+<p>Portrait of a gentleman who sent his wife and family to
+the seaside, followed by a later train, and left their address behind.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Sketched after five hours' futile search for them.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_154.png">
+<img src="images/i_154.png" width="100%" alt="A VOICE FROM THE SEA" /></a>
+<h3>A VOICE FROM THE SEA</h3>
+<p>"O let me kiss him for his mother!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>REASONS FOR GOING TO BRIGHTON</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By the Cynic who stays in London</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_155.png">
+<img src="images/i_155.png" width="100%" alt="HA! RICH" /></a>
+<h3>"HA! RICH!"</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Because "everybody" is there, and it is consequently so pleasant to see
+St. John's Wood, Bayswater, and even Belgravia, so well represented on
+the Esplanade.</p>
+
+<p>Because the shops in the King's Road are <i>nearly</i> as good as those to be
+found in Regent Street.</p>
+
+<p>Because the sea does not <i>always</i> look like the Thames at Greenwich in a
+fog.</p>
+
+<p>Because some of the perambulating bands play very nearly in tune.</p>
+
+<p>Because the Drive from the Aquarium to the New Pier is quite a mile in
+length, and only grows monotonous after the tenth turn.</p>
+
+<p>Because watching fish confined in tanks is such rollicking fun.</p>
+
+<p>Because the Hebrews are so numerously represented on the Green.</p>
+
+<p>Because the Clubs are so inexpensive and select.</p>
+
+<p>Because the management of the Grand is so very admirable.</p>
+
+<p>Because it is so pleasant to follow the Harriers on a hired hack in
+company with other hired hacks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Because the half-deserted Skating Rinks are so very amusing.</p>
+
+<p>Because it is so nice to hear second-rate scandal about third-rate
+people.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_157.png">
+<img src="images/i_157.png" width="100%" alt="WESTON-SUPER-MARE" /></a>
+<h3>WESTON-SUPER-MARE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Because the place is not always being visited by the scarlet fever.</p>
+
+<p>Because it is so cheerful to see the poor invalids taking their morning
+airing in their bath-chairs.</p>
+
+<p>Because the streets are paraded by so many young gentlemen from the
+City.</p>
+
+<p>Because the Brighton belles look so ladylike in their quiet Ulsters and
+unpretending hats.</p>
+
+<p>Because the suburbs are so very cheerful in the winter, particularly
+when it snows or rains.</p>
+
+<p>Because on every holiday the Railway Company brings down such a very
+nice assortment of excursionists to fill the streets.</p>
+
+<p>Because Brighton in November is so very like Margate in July.</p>
+
+<p>Because, if you did not visit Brighton, you might so very easily go
+farther and fare worse.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_156.png">
+<img src="images/i_156.png" width="100%" alt="BY THE SAD SEA WAVES" /></a>
+<h3>SCENE&mdash;BY THE SAD SEA WAVES</h3>
+<p><i>Tomkins, disconsolate on a rock, traces some characters upon the sand.</i>
+<i>To him, Mrs. Tomkins</i> (<i>whose name is Martha</i>).</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> "Well, Mr. Tomkins, and pray who may Henrietta be?"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Tomkins utters a yell of despair, and falls prostrate.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_158.png">
+<img src="images/i_158.png" width="100%" alt="A VIKING ON MODERN FASHION" /></a>
+<h3>A VIKING ON MODERN FASHION</h3>
+<p>"What does t'lass want wi' yon <i>boostle</i> for? It aren't big enough to
+<i>smoggle</i> things, and she can't <i>steer</i> herself wi' it!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE TRIPPER</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By a Resident</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What does he come for?</p>
+<p class="i2">What does he want?</p>
+<p class="i0">Why does he wander thus</p>
+<p class="i2">Careworn and gaunt?</p>
+<p class="i0">Up street and down street with</p>
+<p class="i2">Dull vacant stare,</p>
+<p class="i0">Hither and thither, it</p>
+<p class="i2">Don't matter where?</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What does he mean by it?</p>
+<p class="i2">Why does he come</p>
+<p class="i0">Hundreds of miles to prowl,</p>
+<p class="i2">Weary and glum,</p>
+<p class="i0">Blinking at Kosmos with</p>
+<p class="i2">Lack-lustre eye?</p>
+<p class="i0">He doesn't enjoy it, he</p>
+<p class="i2">Don't even try!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Sunny or soaking, it's</p>
+<p class="i2">All one to him,</p>
+<p class="i0">Wandering painfully&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Curious whim!</p>
+<p class="i0">Gazing at china-shops,</p>
+<p class="i2">Gaping at sea,</p>
+<p class="i0">Guzzling at beer-shops, or</p>
+<p class="i2">Gorging at tea.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Why don't he stay at home,</p>
+<p class="i2">Save his train fare,</p>
+<p class="i0">Soak at his native beer,</p>
+<p class="i2">Sunday clothes wear?</p>
+<p class="i0">No one would grudge it him,</p>
+<p class="i2">No one would jeer.</p>
+<p class="i0">Why does he come away?</p>
+<p class="i2">Why is he here?</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<table summary="cartoons">
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 90%">
+<a href="images/i_159a.png">
+<img src="images/i_159a.png" width="100%" alt="BLACKPOOL" /></a>
+<h3>BLACKPOOL</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 90%">
+<a href="images/i_159b.png">
+<img src="images/i_159b.png" width="100%" alt="BRIGHTON" /></a>
+<h3>BRIGHTON</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 90%">
+<a href="images/i_159c.png">
+<img src="images/i_159c.png" width="100%" alt="MARGATE" /></a>
+<h3>MARGATE</h3>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_160.png">
+<img src="images/i_160.png" width="100%" alt="A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING" /></a>
+<h3>A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING</h3>
+<p><i>Landlady.</i> "I hope you slept well, sir?"</p>
+<p><i>New Boarder.</i> "No, I didn't. I've been troubled with insomnia."</p>
+<p><i>Landlady.</i> "Look here, young man. I'll give you a sovereign for every
+one you find in that bed!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<img src="images/i_161.png" width="100%" alt="TOUCHING APPEAL" />
+<h3>TOUCHING APPEAL</h3>
+<p><i>Testy Old Gent.</i> (<i>wearied by the importunities of the Brighton
+boatmen</i>). "Confound it, man! Do I <i>look</i> as if I wanted a boat?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>ROBERT AT THE SEASIDE</h2>
+
+<p>I've bin spending my long Wacation of a fortnite at Northgate.</p>
+
+<p>Northgate's a nice quiet place, Northgate is, tho' it quite fails in
+most things that constitoots reel injoyment at the seaside, such as
+Bands and Niggers and Minstrels and all that.</p>
+
+<p>It's a grand place for weather, for it generally blows hard at
+Northgate, and wen it doesn't blow hard it rains hard, which makes a
+nice change, and a change is wot we all goes to the seaside for.</p>
+
+<p>It seems a werry favrite place for inwaleeds, for the place is full on
+'em, Bath cheers is in great demand and all the seats on the Prade is
+allus occypied by 'em.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Scratchem too sends most of his favrite cases there, and you can't
+walk on the Peer without facing lots on 'em.</p>
+
+<p>Brown says the place makes him as sollem as a Common Cryer, and he
+hasn't had a good hearty larf since he came here, but then Brown isn't
+quite sattisfied with his Lodgings, and has acshally recommended his
+Land Lady to turn her house into the Norfolk Howard Hotel, <i>Unlimited</i>,
+so perhaps she may account for his want of spirits. Northgate's rather a
+rum place as regards the tide. Wen it's eye it comes all over the place
+and makes such a jolly mess, and wen it's low it runs right out to sea
+and you can't see it. Brown tried to persuade me as how as one werry eye
+tide was a spring tide, but as it was in September I wasn't so green as
+to beleeve that rubbish.</p>
+
+<p>It seems quite a pet place for Artists, I mean Sculpchers, at least I
+s'pose they must be Sculpchers, and that they brings their Moddels with
+'em, for the Bathing Machines is stuck close to the Peer, so dreckly
+after breakfast the Moddels goes and bathes in the Sea, and the
+Sculpchers goes on the Peer, and there's nothink to divert their
+attention from their interesting studdys, and many on 'em passes ours
+there quietly meditating among the Bathing Machines.</p>
+
+<p>Brown says, in his sarcastic way, it's the poor Sculpchers as comes
+here, who can't afford to pay for their Moddels, so they comes here and
+gets 'em free gratis for nothink.</p>
+
+<p>There's sum werry nice walks in the nayberhood but I never walks 'em,
+for it seems to me that the grate joke of every Buysicler and Trysicler,
+and the place swarms with 'em, is to cum quietly behind you and see how
+close he can go by you without nocking you down. I'm sure the jumps
+and the starts and the frites as I had the fust day or too kep my Art in
+my mouth till I thort it would have choked me.</p>
+
+<p>How Ladys, reel Ladys too, can expose theirselves on such things I can't
+make out. I herd a young Swell say that wot with them and what with the
+Bathing Moddels it was as good as a Burlesk!</p>
+
+<p>We've got werry cumferrabel Lodgings, we have, just opposite the Gas
+Works and near a Brick Field. When the wind is South or West we smells
+the bricks and when its East we smells the Gas, but when its doo North
+we don't smell nuffen excep just a trifle from the Dranes, and so long
+as we keeps quite at the end of the werry long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> Peer we don't smell
+nuffen at all excep the sea weed.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i_169.png">
+<img src="images/i_169.png" width="100%" alt="LIGHT PUFFS RAISED A LITTLE SWELL" /></a>
+<h3>LIGHT PUFFS RAISED A LITTLE SWELL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Our Landlord's a werry respeckabel man and the Stoker on our little
+Railway, and so werry fond of nussing our little children that they are
+allus as black as young Sweeps. Their gratest treat is to go with him to
+the Stashun and stand on the ingin when they are shuntin, so preshus
+little they gits of the sea breezes.</p>
+
+<p>We've had a fust rate Company staying here. I've seen no less than 2
+Aldermen, and 1 Warden of a City Compny, but they didn't stay long. I
+don't think the living was good enuff for 'em. It must be a werry trying
+change, from every luxery that isn't in season, to meer beef and mutton
+and shrimps! and those rayther course.</p>
+
+<p>I think our Boatmen is about the lazyest set of fellows as ever I seed.
+So far from begging on you to have a soft Roe with the Tide, or a hard
+Roe against it, they makes all sorts of egscewses for not taking you,
+says they're just a going to dinner, or they thinks the wind's a
+gitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> up, or there ain't enough water!</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_171.png">
+<img src="images/i_171.png" width="100%" alt="HEAVY SWELL ON THE BAR" /></a>
+<h3>HEAVY SWELL ON THE BAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Not enuff water in the Sea to flote a Bote! wen any one could see as
+there was thousands of galluns there.</p>
+
+<p>I saw some on 'em this mornin bringin in sum fish, and asked the price
+of a pair of Souls, but they axshally said they didn't dare sell one,
+for every man Jack of 'em must be sent to Billingsgate! but werry likely
+sum on 'em might be sent back again in the arternoon, and then I could
+get some at the Fishmonger's!</p>
+
+<p>What a nice derangemunt!</p>
+
+<p>There was the butiful fresh fish reddy for eating, there was me and my
+family reddy to eat 'em, but no, they must be packed in boxes and
+carried to the Station and then sent by Rale to London, and then sent by
+Wan to Billingsgate, and that takes I'm told ever so many hours, and
+then carried back to the London Stashun, and then sent by Rale to
+Northgate, and then carried from the Stashun to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> the Fishmonger's, and
+then I'm allowed to buy 'em!</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_173.png">
+<img src="images/i_173.png" width="100%" alt="THE BELL BUOY" /></a>
+<h3>THE BELL BUOY</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Well if that isn't a butiful business like arrangement, my Lord Mare, I
+should like to know what is.</p>
+
+<p>However, as I wunce herd a Deputy say, when things cums to their wust,
+things is sure to mend, and I don't think that things can be much wusser
+than that.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+(<i>Signed</i>) <span class="smcap">Robert.</span><br />
+</p>
+<br /><br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Spirit of the Thing.</span>&mdash;<i>Landlady</i> (<i>to shivering lodger</i>). No, sir, I
+don't object to your dining at a restorong, nor to your taking an
+'apenny paper, but I must resent your constant 'abit of locking up your
+whiskey, thereby himplying that me, a clergyman's daughter, is prone to
+larceny.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Lodger immediately hands her the key as a guarantee of good faith.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_162.png">
+<img src="images/i_162.png" width="100%" alt="THE BORES OF THE BEACH" /></a>
+<h3>THE BORES OF THE BEACH</h3>
+<p>So! as it's a fine day, you'll sit on the beach and read the paper
+comfortably, will you? Very good! Then we recommend you to get what
+guinea-pigs, brandy-balls, boats, and children's socks, to say nothing
+of shell-workboxes, lace collars, and the like you may want, before you
+settle down.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%">
+<a href="images/i_163.png">
+<img src="images/i_163.png" width="100%" alt="Mr. Dan Briggs himself" /></a>
+<p>"Excuse me, sir. I seem to have met you before. Are you
+not a relative of Mr. Dan Briggs?"</p>
+<p>"No, madam. I <i>am</i> Mr. Dan Briggs himself."</p>
+<p>"Ah, then that explains the remarkable resemblance!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_164.png">
+<img src="images/i_164.png" width="100%" alt="ACCOMMODATING" /></a>
+<h3>ACCOMMODATING</h3>
+<p><i>Lodger.</i> "And then, there's that cold pheasant, Mrs. Bilkes"&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Landlady.</i> "Yes'm, and if you should have enough without it, lor', Mr.
+Bilkes wouldn't mind a eatin' of it for his supper, if that's all."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_165.png">
+<img src="images/i_165.png" width="100%" alt="Might I ask how much you gave" title="" /></a>
+<p><i>Mrs. Brown.</i> "Might I ask how much you gave that
+nigger?"</p>
+<p><i>Mr. Brown</i> (<i>first day down</i>). "Sixpence."</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> "Oh, indeed! Perhaps, sir, you are not aware that your wife
+and family have listened to those same niggers for the last ten days for
+a <i>penny</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_166.png">
+<img src="images/i_166.png" width="100%" alt="PLEASURES OF THE SEASIDE" /></a>
+<h3>PLEASURES OF THE SEASIDE</h3>
+<p><i>Mermaiden.</i> "I am told you keep a circulating library?"</p>
+<p><i>Librarian.</i> "Yes, miss. <i>There</i> it is! Subscription, two shillings
+a-week; one volume at a time; change as often as you please! Would you
+like to see a catalogue?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i_167.png">
+<img src="images/i_167.png" width="100%" alt="AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION" /></a>
+<h3>AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION</h3>
+<p><i>Polite Little Girl</i> (<i>suddenly</i>). "This is my mamma, sir. Will you
+please sing her, 'It's the seasoning wot does it!'"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_168.png">
+<img src="images/i_168.png" width="100%" alt="OUT OF TOWN" /></a>
+<h3>OUT OF TOWN (UNFASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE)</h3>
+<p><i>Visitor.</i> "What a roaring trade the hotels will be doing, with all
+these holiday folk!"</p>
+<p><i>Head waiter at The George.</i> "Lor bless yer, sir, no! They all bring
+their nosebags with 'em!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_170a.png">
+<img src="images/i_170a.png" width="100%" alt="SEASIDE STUDIES" /></a>
+<h3>SEASIDE STUDIES</h3>
+<p><i>Wandering Minstrel.</i> "Gurls! I'm a doocid fine cha-appie!" &amp;c., &amp;c.]</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_170b.png">
+<img src="images/i_170b.png" width="100%" alt="prefer bathing from the beach" /></a>
+<p>Wiggles and Sprott prefer bathing from the beach to
+having a stuffy machine. They are much pleased with the delicate little
+attention indicated above!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_172.png">
+<img src="images/i_172.png" width="100%" alt="A QUIET DRIVE BY THE SEA" /></a>
+<h3>A QUIET DRIVE BY THE SEA</h3>
+<p>A Brighton bath-chairman's idea of a suitable route for an invalid lady</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A SEASIDE ROUNDEL</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">On the sands as loitering I stand</p>
+<p class="i2">Where my point of view the scene commands,</p>
+<p class="i0">I survey the prospect fair and grand</p>
+<p class="i10">On the sands.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Niggers, half a dozen German bands,</p>
+<p class="i2">Photographic touts, persistent, bland,</p>
+<p class="i0">Chiromancers reading dirty hands,</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Nursemaids, children, preachers, skiffs that land</p>
+<p class="i2">Trippers with cigars of fearful brands,</p>
+<p class="i0">Donkeys&mdash;everything, in short, but sand&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i10">On the sands.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_174.png">
+<img src="images/i_174.png" width="100%" alt="THE LETTER BUT NOT THE SPIRIT" /></a>
+<h3>THE LETTER BUT NOT THE SPIRIT</h3>
+<p>Old Mr. de Cramwell, being bilious and out of sorts, is ordered to go to
+the sea, and take plenty of exercise in the open air. (He begins at
+once.)</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>COMMON OBJECTS OF THE SEASHORE</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_175.png">
+<img src="images/i_175.png" width="100%" alt="TAKING A ROW" /></a>
+<h3>TAKING A ROW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The "disguised minstrel", believed by the public to be a peer of the
+realm collecting coin for a charity, but who is in reality the
+sentimental singer from a perambulating troop of nigger banjoists,
+"working on his own."</p>
+
+<p>The preacher whose appreciation of the value of logic and the aspirate
+is on a par.</p>
+
+<p>The intensely military young man whose occupation during eleven months
+in the year is the keeping of ledgers in a small city office.</p>
+
+<p>The artist who guarantees a pleasing group of lovers for sixpence, frame
+included.</p>
+
+<p>The band that consists of a cornet, a trombone, a clarionet, some bass,
+and a big drum, which is quite as effective (thanks to the trombone)
+when all the principals have deserted in search of coppers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And last (and commonest of all) the cockney who, after a week's
+experience of the discomforts of the seaside, is weary of them, and
+wants to go home.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A WINDY CORNER AT BRIGHTON</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By an Impressionist</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Old lady first, with hair like winter snows,</p>
+<p class="i10">Makes moan.</p>
+<p class="i0">And struggles. Then, with cheeks too richly rose,</p>
+<p class="i10">A crone,</p>
+<p class="i0">Gold hair, new teeth, white powder on her nose;</p>
+<p class="i10">All bone</p>
+<p class="i0">And skin; an "Ancient Mystery", like those</p>
+<p class="i10">Of Hone.</p>
+<p class="i0">Then comes a girl; sweet face that freshly glows!</p>
+<p class="i10">Well grown.</p>
+<p class="i0">The neat cloth gown her supple figure shows</p>
+<p class="i10">Now thrown</p>
+<p class="i0">In lines of beauty. Last, in graceless pose,</p>
+<p class="i10">Half prone,</p>
+<p class="i0">A luckless lout, caught by the blast, one knows</p>
+<p class="i10">His tone</p>
+<p class="i0">Means oaths; his hat, straight as fly crows,</p>
+<p class="i10">Has flown.</p>
+<p class="i0">I laugh at him, and&mdash;&mdash; Hi! By Jove, there goes</p>
+<p class="i10">My own!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>ON THE SANDS</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>A Sketch at Margate</i>)</center>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>Close under the Parade wall a large circle has been formed,
+consisting chiefly of Women on chairs and camp-stools, with an
+inner ring of small Children, who are all patiently awaiting the
+arrival of a troupe of Niggers. At the head of one of the flights
+of steps leading up to the Parade, a small and shrewish Child-nurse
+is endeavouring to detect and recapture a pair of prodigal younger
+Brothers, who have given her the slip.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Sarah</i> (<i>to herself</i>). Wherever can them two plegs have got to?
+(<i>Aloud; drawing a bow at a venture.</i>) Albert! 'Enery! Come up 'ere this
+minnit. <i>I</i> see yer!</p>
+
+<p><i>'Enery</i> (<i>under the steps&mdash;to Albert</i>). I say&mdash;d'ye think she
+<i>do</i>?&mdash;'cos if&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Albert.</i> Not she! Set tight.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">[<i>They sit tight.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Sarah</i> (<i>as before</i>). 'Enery! Albert! You've bin and 'alf killed little
+Georgie between yer!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>'Enery</i> (<i>moved, to Albert</i>). Did you 'ear that, Bert? It wasn't <i>me</i>
+upset him&mdash;was it now?</p>
+
+<p><i>Albert</i> (<i>impenitent</i>). 'Oo cares? The Niggers'll be back direckly.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_178.png">
+<img src="images/i_178.png" width="100%" alt="STOPPING AT A WATERING PLACE" /></a>
+<h3>STOPPING AT A WATERING PLACE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Sarah.</i> Al-bert! 'Enery! Your father's bin down 'ere once after you.
+You'll <i>ketch</i> it!</p>
+
+<p><i>Albert (sotto voce).</i> Not till father ketches <i>us</i>, we shan't. Keep
+still, 'Enery&mdash;we're all right under 'ere!</p>
+
+<p><i>Sarah</i> (<i>more diplomatically</i>). 'Enery! Albert! Father's bin and left a
+'ap'ny apiece for yer. Ain't yer comin' up for it? If yer don't want it,
+why, stay where you are, that's all!</p>
+
+<p><i>Albert</i> (<i>to 'Enery</i>). I <i>knoo</i> we 'adn't done nothin'. An' I'm goin'
+up to git that 'ap'ny, I am.</p>
+
+<p><i>'Enery.</i> So 'm I.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">[<i>They emerge, and ascend the steps&mdash;to be pounced upon immediately by
+the ingenious Sarah.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Sarah.</i> 'Ap'ny, indeed! You won't git no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> 'apence <i>'ere</i>, I can tell
+yer&mdash;so jest you come along 'ome with me!</p>
+
+<p class="regards">[<i>Exeunt Albert and 'Enery, in captivity, as the Niggers enter the
+circle.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Bones.</i> We shall commence this afternoon by 'olding our Grand Annual
+Weekly Singing Competition, for the Discouragement of Youthful Talent.
+Now then, which is the little gal to step out first and git a medal?
+(<i>The Children giggle, but remain seated.</i>) Not one? Now I arsk
+<i>you</i>&mdash;What <i>is</i> the use o' me comin' 'ere throwin' away thousands and
+thousands of pounds on golden medals, if you won't take the trouble to
+stand up and sing for them? Oh, you'll make me so wild, I shall begin
+spittin' 'alf-sovereigns directly&mdash;I <i>know</i> I shall! (<i>A little Girl in
+a sun-bonnet comes forward.</i>) Ah, 'ere's a young lady who's bustin' with
+melody, <i>I</i> can see. Your name, my dear? Ladies and Gentlemen, I have
+the pleasure to announce that Miss Connie Cockle will now appear. Don't
+curtsey till the Orchestra gives the chord. (<i>Chord from the
+harmonium&mdash;the Child advances, and curtsies with much aplomb.</i>) Oh, lor!
+call <i>that</i> a curtsey&mdash;that's a <i>cramp</i>, that is! Do it all over again!
+(<i>The Child obeys, disconcerted.</i>) That's <i>worse</i>! I can see the s'rimps
+blushin' for yer inside their paper bags! Now see Me do it. (<i>Bones
+executes a caricature of a curtsey, which the little Girl copies with
+terrible fidelity.</i>) That's <i>ladylike</i>&mdash;that's genteel. Now sing <i>out</i>!
+(<i>The Child sings the first verse of a popular music-hall song, in a
+squeaky little voice.</i>) Talk about nightingales! Come 'ere, and receive
+the reward for extinguished incapacity. On your knees! (<i>The little Girl
+kneels before him while a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> tin medal is fastened upon her frock.</i>) Rise,
+Sir Connie Cockle! Oh, you <i>lucky</i> girl!</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>The Child returns, swelling with triumph, to her companions,
+several of whom come out, and go through the same performance, with
+more or less squeakiness and self-possession.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_181.png">
+<img src="images/i_181.png" width="100%" alt="EAST-BORN" /></a>
+<h3>EAST-BORN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>First Admiring Matron</i> (<i>in audience</i>). I do like to see the children
+kep' out o' mischief like this, instead o' goin' paddling and messing
+about the sands!</p>
+
+<p><i>Second Ad. Mat.</i> Just what <i>I</i> say, my dear&mdash;they're amused and
+edjucated 'ow to beyave at the same time!</p>
+
+<p><i>First Politician</i> (<i>with the "Standard"</i>). No, but look here&mdash;when
+Gladstone was asked in the House whether he proposed to give the Dublin
+Parliament the control of the police, what was his answer. Why....</p>
+
+<p><i>The Niggers</i> (<i>striking up chorus</i>). "'Rum-tumty diddly-umty
+doodah-dey! Rum-tumty-diddly-um was all that he could say. And the
+Members and the Speaker joined together in the lay. Of
+'Rum-tumty-diddly-umty doodah-dey!'"</p>
+
+<p><i>Second Pol.</i> (<i>with the "Star"</i>). Well, and what more would you have
+<i>'ad</i> him say? Come, now!</p>
+
+<p><i>Alf</i> (<i>who has had quite enough ale at dinner&mdash;to his fianc�e</i>). These
+Niggers ain't up to much Loo. Can't sing for <i>nuts</i>!</p>
+
+<p><i>Chorley</i> (<i>his friend, perfidiously</i>). You'd better go in and show 'em
+how, old man. Me and Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> Serge'll stay and see you take the shine out
+of 'em!</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i_183.png">
+<img src="images/i_183.png" width="100%" alt="WEST-BORN" /></a>
+<h3>WEST-BORN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Alf.</i> P'raps you think I can't. But, if I was to go upon the 'Alls now,
+I should make my fortune in no time! Loo's 'eard me when I've been in
+form, and she'll tell you&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Serge.</i> Well, I will say there's
+many a professional might learn a lesson from Alf&mdash;whether Mr. Perkins
+believes it or not.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">[<i>Cuttingly, to "Chorley</i>."</p>
+
+<p><i>Chorley.</i> Now reelly, Miss Loo, don't come down on a feller like that.
+I want to see him do you credit, that's all, and he couldn't 'ave a
+better opportunity to distinguish himself&mdash;now <i>could</i> he?</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Serge.</i> <i>I'm</i> not preventing him. But I don't know&mdash;these Niggers
+keep themselves very select, and they might object to it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Alf.</i> I'll soon square <i>them</i>. You keep your eye on me, and I'll make
+things a bit livelier!</p>
+
+<p class="regards">[<i>He enters the circle.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Serge</i> (<i>admiringly</i>). He has got a cheek, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> must say! Look at
+him, dancing there along with those two Niggers&mdash;they don't hardly know
+what to make of him yet!</p>
+
+<p><i>Chorley.</i> Do you notice how they keep kicking him beyind on the sly
+like? I wonder he puts up with it!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss S.</i> He'll be even with them presently&mdash;you see if he isn't.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>Alf attempts to twirl a tambourine on his finger, and lets it
+fall; derision from audience; Bones pats him on the head and takes
+the tambourine away&mdash;at which Alf only smiles feebly.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Chorley.</i> It's a pity he gets so 'ot dancing, and he don't seem to keep
+in step with the others.</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss S.</i> (<i>secretly disappointed</i>). He isn't used to doing the
+double-shuffle on sand, that's all.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Conductor.</i> Bones, I observe we have a recent addition to our
+company. Perhaps he'll favour us with a solo. (<i>Aside to Bones.</i>) 'Oo
+<i>is</i> he? 'Oo let him in 'ere&mdash;<i>you</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Bones.</i> <i>I</i> dunno. I thought <i>you</i> did. Ain't he stood nothing?</p>
+
+<p><i>Conductor.</i> Not a brass farden!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 35%">
+<a href="images/i_185.png">
+<img src="images/i_185.png" width="100%" alt="Long lost son." /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Bones</i> (<i>outraged</i>). All right, you leave him to me. (<i>To Alf.</i>) Kin it
+be? That necktie! them familiar coat-buttons! that paper-dicky! You
+are&mdash;you <i>are</i> my long-lost convick son, 'ome from Portland! Come to
+these legs! (<i>He embraces Alf, and smothers him with kisses.</i>) Oh,
+you've been and rubbed off some of your cheek on my complexion&mdash;you
+<i>dirty</i> boy! (<i>He playfully "bashes" Alf's hat in.</i>) Now show the
+comp'ny how pretty you can sing. (<i>Alf attempts a music-hall ditty, in
+which he, not unnaturally, breaks down.</i>) It ain't my son's fault,
+Ladies and Gentlemen, it's all this little gal in front here, lookin' at
+him and makin' him shy! (<i>To a small Child, severely.</i>) You oughter know
+<i>worse</i>, you ought! (<i>Clumps of seaweed and paper-balls are thrown at
+Alf who by this time is looking deplorably warm and foolish.</i>) Oh, what
+a popilar fav'rite he is, to be sure!</p>
+
+<p><i>Chorley</i> (<i>to Miss S.</i>). Poor fellow, he ain't no match for those
+Niggers&mdash;not like he is now! Hadn't I better go to the rescue, Miss Loo?</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss S.</i> (<i>pettishly</i>). I'm sure I don't care <i>what</i> you do.</p>
+
+<p class="regads">[<i>"Chorley" succeeds, after some persuasion, in removing the unfortunate
+Alf.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Alf</i> (<i>rejoining his fianc�e with a grimy face, a smashed hat, and a
+pathetic attempt at a grin</i>). Well? I <i>done</i> it, you see!</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%">
+<a href="images/i_189.png">
+<img src="images/i_189.png" width="100%" alt="TAKING IN SAIL" /></a>
+<h3>TAKING IN SAIL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Miss S.</i> (<i>crushingly</i>). Yes, you <i>have</i> done it! And the best thing
+you can do now, is to go home and wash your face. <i>I</i> don't care to be
+seen about with a <i>laughing-stock</i>, I can assure you!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> I've had my
+dignity lowered quite enough as it is!</p>
+
+<p><i>Alf.</i> But look 'ere, my dear girl, I can't leave you here all by
+yourself you know!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss S.</i> I dare say Mr. Perkins will take care of me.</p>
+
+<p>[<i>Mr. P. assents, with effusion.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Alf</i> (<i>watching them move away&mdash;with bitterness</i>). I wish all Niggers
+were put down by Act of Parliament, I do! Downright noosances&mdash;that's
+what <i>they</i> are!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Delays Are Dangerous.</span>&mdash;<i>Young Housekeeper.</i> "I'm afraid those soles I
+bought of you yesterday were not fresh. My husband said they were not
+nice at all!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Brighton Fisherman.</i> "Well, marm, that be your fault&mdash;it bean't mine.
+I've offered 'em yer every day this week, and you might a' 'ad 'em o'
+Monday if you'd a loiked!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">At Margate.</span>&mdash;<i>Angelina</i> (<i>very poetical, surveying the rolling ocean</i>).
+"Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink."</p>
+
+<p><i>Edwin</i> (<i>very practical</i>). No drink! Now, hang it all, Angy, if I've
+asked you once I've asked you three times within the last five minutes
+to come and do a split soda and whiskey! And <i>I</i> can do with it!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_180.png">
+<img src="images/i_180.png" width="100%" alt="LAST DAY AT THE SEASIDE" /></a>
+<h3>THE LAST DAY AT THE SEASIDE&mdash;PACKING UP</h3>
+<p><i>Maid</i> (<i>to Paterfamilias</i>). "Please, sir, missus say you're to come in,
+and sit on the boxes; because we can't get 'em to, and they wants to be
+corded."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_182.png">
+<img src="images/i_182.png" width="100%" alt="a soldier, like you" /></a>
+<p><i>The General.</i> "And what are you going to be when you
+grow up, young man?"</p>
+<p><i>Bobbie.</i> "Well, I can't quite make up my mind. I don't know which would
+be nicest&mdash;a soldier, like you, or a sailor, like Mr. Smithers."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_186.png">
+<img src="images/i_186.png" width="100%" alt="THEM ARTISES" /></a>
+<h3>"THEM ARTISES!"</h3>
+<p><i>Lady Artist.</i> "Do you belong to that ship over there?"</p>
+<p><i>Sailor.</i> "Yes, miss."</p>
+<p><i>Lady Artist.</i> "Then would you mind loosening all those ropes? They are
+much too tight, and, besides, I can't draw straight lines!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_187.png">
+<img src="images/i_187.png" width="100%" alt="DISORDER OF THE BATH" /></a>
+<h3>THE DISORDER OF THE BATH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="caption"><tr><td>
+How Belinda Brown appeared<br /> with "waves all over<br /> her hair"  before taking<br />
+a bath in the sea&mdash;</td>
+<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+How she looked after<br /> having some more "waves<br /> all over it"
+</td>
+</tr></table>
+</center>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_188.png">
+<img src="images/i_188.png" width="100%" alt="CAUTION TO BATHERS" /></a>
+<h3>CAUTION TO BATHERS</h3>
+<p>Don't let them jolt you up the beach till you are dressed.</p>
+<p><i>Jones</i> (<i>obliged to hold fast</i>). "Hullo! Hi! Somebody stop my boots!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_190.png">
+<img src="images/i_190.png" width="100%" alt="A FIX" /></a>
+<h3>A FIX</h3>
+<p><i>Separated husband.</i> "Fetch him out, sir!"</p>
+<p><i>Proprietor of moke.</i> "Why, if I went near her, she'd lie down; she
+always goes in just before high water; nothing'll fetch her out till the
+tide turns!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE HUSBANDS' BOAT, A MARGATE MELODY</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">See! what craft Margate Harbour displays,</p>
+<p class="i2">There are luggers and cutters and yawls,</p>
+<p class="i0">They sail upon sunshiny days,</p>
+<p class="i2">For land-sailors arn't partial to squalls.</p>
+<p class="i0">There's Paterfamilias takes out the lot</p>
+<p class="i2">Of the progeny he may own,</p>
+<p class="i0">But the Saturday Evening boat has got</p>
+<p class="i2">A freight that is hers alone.</p>
+<p class="i0">By far the most precious of craft afloat,</p>
+<p class="i0">Is the Saturday Evening "Husbands' Boat."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">There are husbands with luggage, and husbands with none,</p>
+<p class="i2">There are husbands with parcels in hand,</p>
+<p class="i0">They bring down to wives whom they lately have won,</p>
+<p class="i2">Who pretty attentions command.</p>
+<p class="i0">There are husbands who know whate'er time it may be</p>
+<p class="i2">Their wives on the jetty will wait</p>
+<p class="i0">For that Hymeneal argosy,</p>
+<p class="i2">With its matrimonial freight.</p>
+<p class="i0">Oh! the most precious of craft afloat</p>
+<p class="i0">Is the Saturday Evening "Husbands' Boat."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But the Monday Morning is "Monday black",</p>
+<p class="i2">That when at school we knew,</p>
+<p class="i0">For the husbands to business must all go back,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the wives look monstrous blue;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="i0">So loud the bell rings, and the steamer starts</p>
+<p class="i2">On her way to Thames Haven again,</p>
+<p class="i0">And amid those who leave are as many sad hearts,</p>
+<p class="i2">As there are amid those who remain.</p>
+<p class="i0">Coming or going of craft afloat,</p>
+<p class="i0">The most prized one is the "Husbands' Boat."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_192.png">
+<img src="images/i_192.png" width="100%" alt="FINIS" /></a>
+<h3>FINIS!</h3>
+<center>(THE END OF THE SEASON)</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i_193.png">
+<img src="images/i_193.png" width="100%" alt="FINIS" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>BRADBURY, AGNEW &amp; CO. LD. PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:07:20 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:07:20 -0700
commit	59df71c91439b9e8724a48a4de8dd6a3602c9469 (patch)
tree	f8443beba874c6f1840fc466dd4afc977264efe2 /37166-h