["The week-end was dull and much rain fell, but this did not spoil
the visitors' pleasure. The sight of the sea in a turbulent mood was
a great attraction."--_Seaside note in daily paper._]
It has rained for a week down at Shrimpton;
'Tis zero or less in the shade;
You can paddle your feet in the principal street
And bathe on the stony parade;
But still on our holiday pleasures
No thoughts of discomfort intrude,
As we whisper, "This sight is a bit of all right,"
For the sea's in a turbulent mood.
There's nobody harks to the pierrots;
For music we don't care a straw;
And the "comic" in vain chants the usual strain
Concerning his mother-in-law.
Unbought are the beach's bananas;
Our souls are all far above food;
Not a man of us dreams of consuming ice-creams
When the sea's in a turbulent mood.
You may prate of the fervour of Phoebus
Of days that are calm and serene,
When a tint as of teak is imposed on the cheek
That is commonly pallid (when clean);
But _we_ have a taste that's aesthetic;
Mere sunshine seems vulgar and crude,
As we gather to gaze with artistic amaze
On the sea in a turbulent mood.
* * * * *
_The Beekeepers' Record_, referring to the photograph of a group of
prominent beekeepers, says:--"Mr. Dadant's well-known features are
easily spotted." We are sorry, but a little cold cream will sometimes do
wonders.
* * * * *