"What sort of people do you get down here in the summer?"
_Inhabitant._ "Oh, all sorts, zur. There be fine people an' common
people, an' some just half-an'-half, like yourself, zur."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE OYSTERS AT WHITSTABLE FROZEN IN THEIR BEDS!
(_See Daily Papers_)]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A DELICIOUS DIP.
_Bathing Attendant._ "Here, Bill! The gent wants to be took out
deep--take 'im _into the drain_!!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _She._ "How much was old Mr. Baskerville's estate sworn
at by his next-of-kin?"
_He._ "Oh--a pretty good lot."
_She._ "Really? Why, I heard he died worth hardly anything!"
_He._ "Yes, so he did--that's just it."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: EVIDENCE OLFACTORY
_Angelina_ (_scientific_). "Do you smell the iodine from the sea, Edwin?
Isn't it refreshing?"
_Old Salt_ (_overhearing_). "What you smell ain't the sea, miss. It's
the town drains as flows out just 'ere!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: OBLIGING.
_Excursionist_ (_to himself_). "Ullo! 'ere's one o' them artists.
'Dessay 'e'll want a genteel figger for 'is foreground. I'll _stand for
'im_!!!"]
* * * * *
TRUE DIPSOMANIA.--Overbathing at the seaside.
* * * * *
AN IDLE HOLIDAY.
When the days are bright and hot,
In the month of August,
When the sunny hours are not
Marred by any raw gust,
Then I turn from toil with glee,
Sing a careless canto,
And to somewhere by the sea
Carry my portmanteau.
Shall I, dreaming on the sand,
Pleased with all things finite,
Envy Jones who travels and
Climbs an Apennine height--
Climbs a rugged peak with pain,
Literally speaking,
Only to descend again
Fagged with pleasure-seeking?
Smith, who, worn with labour, went
Off for rest and leisure,
Races round the Continent
In pursuit of pleasure:
Having lunched at Bale, he will
At Lucerne his tea take,
Riding till he's faint and ill,
Tramping till his feet ache.
Shall I, dreaming thus at home,
Left ashore behind here,
Envy restless men who roam
Seeking what I find here?
Since beside my native sea,
Where I sit to woo it,
Pleasure always comes to me,
Why should I pursue it?
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE MURMUR OF THE TIED]
* * * * *
EXTRA SPECIAL.--_Paterfamilias_ (_inspecting bill, to landlady_). 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.
_Mrs. Buggins._ Lor' bless you, sir, they're not extras, but
necessaries.
_Paterfamilias._ What, then, do you consider extras?
_Mrs. Buggins._ Well, sir, that's a difficult question to answer, but I
should suggest salad oil, fly-papers, and turtle soup.
[_Paterfamilias drops the subject and pays his account._
* * * * *
[Illustration: SUSPICION
_Stout Visitor_ (_on discovering that, during his usual nap after
luncheon, he has been subjected to a grossly personal practical joke_).
"It's one o' those dashed artists that are staying at the 'Lord Nelson'
'a' done this, I know!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Aunt Jane._ "It's wonderful how this wireless telegraphy
is coming into use!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A DREAM OF THE SEA
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.]
* * * * *
THE MARGATE BATHING-WOMAN'S LAMENT
It nearly broke my widowed art,
When first I tuk the notion,
That parties didn't as they used,
Take reglar to the ocean.
The hinfants, darling little soles,
Still cum quite frequent, bless 'em!
But they is only sixpence each,
Which hardly pays to dress 'em.
The reason struck me all at once,
Says I, "It's my opinion,
The grown-up folks no longer bathes
Because of them vile Sheenions."
The last as cum drest in that style,
Says, as she tuk it horf her,
"I'm sure I shall not know the way
To re-arrange my quoffur!"
By which she ment the ed of air,
Which call it wot they will, sir;
Cum doubtless off a convict at
Millbank or Pentonville, sir.
The Parliament should pass a law,
Which there's sufficient reason;
That folks as wear the Sheenions should
Bathe reg'lar in the season.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE]
* * * * *
"MERRY MARGIT"
(_Another communication from the side of the dear sea waves_)
I was told it was greatly improved--that there were alterations in the
sea-front suggestive of the best moments of the Thames Embankment--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.
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."
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--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 _habits_, _pur et simple_ (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.
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 _creme de la creme_ 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."
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,--which a century ago had for its M.C. a
rival of Beau Nash,--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--"Good Old Chawlie
Cadd", and Miss Topsie Stuart Plantagenet, _nee_ Tompkins.
* * * * *
[Illustration: DEAL]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "NICE FOR THE VISITORS"
(Sketch outside a fashionable hotel)]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Boy_ (_to Brown, who is exceedingly proud of his
sporting appearance_). "Want a donkey, mister?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: INCORRIGIBLE
_Visitor._ "Well, my man, I expect it must have cost you a lot of money
to paint your nose that colour!"
_Reprobate._ "Ah, an' if Oi cud affoord it, Oi'd have it _varnished_
now!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE"
_Materfamilias_ (_just arrived at Shrimpville--the children had been
down a month before_). "Well, Jane, have you found it dull?"
_Nurse._ "It was at fust, M'm. There was nothink to improve the mind,
M'm, till the niggers come down!!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: BY THE SAD SEA WAVES
"But, are you sure?"
"Yus, lady. 'E's strong as an 'orse!"
"But how am I to get on?"
"Oh, _I'll lift yer_!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: DELICATE ATTENTION
_Confiding Spinster._ "I'm afraid the sea is too cold for me this
morning, Mr. Swabber."
_Bathing Man._ "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'!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: HOLIDAY PLEASURES
_Injured Individual._ "Heigho! I _did_ 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!"
_His Wife._ "_Well_, John! it's _only_ for a _month_, you know!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: BLIGHTED HOPES
_Extract of letter from Laura to Lillie_:--"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. _The idea!_--of his thinking I was alluding to
him!"----&c., &c.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SENSITIVE
"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 _with
an object_!!"
[_Extract from a later letter of Laura's to Lillie._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS
"No bathing to-day!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS
A Nocturne which would seem to show that "residential flats" were not
wholly unknown even in primeval times!]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Blinks._ "The sun 'll be over the yard-arm in ten
minutes. _Then_ we'll have a drink!"
_Jinks._ "I think I'll have one while I'm waiting!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TRIALS OF A CONVALESCENT
_Tompkins_ (_in a feeble voice, for the fourth or fifth time, with no
result_). "Chairman!!! chairman!!!"
_That Awful Boy._ "Lydies and gentlemen----!!"]
* * * * *
SEASIDE ASIDES
(_Paterfamilias in North Cornwall_)
[Illustration]
Oh! how delightful now at last to come
Away from town--its dirt, its degradation,
Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum.
(A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.)
For what could mortal man or maid want more
Than breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up,
Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore?
(There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.)
Your honest face here earns an honest brown,
You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather,
Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down
(Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather).
The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers.
And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney;
No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears.
(A German band has just played "_Annie Rooney_".)
The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish cream
The boys from school all say is "simply ripping."
The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream."
(The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.)
A happiness of resting after strife,
Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow,
And one contentedly could pass one's life.
(A telegram will take _me_ home to-morrow.)
* * * * *
SCENE: MARGATE BEACH ON EASTER MONDAY.--_First Lady._ "Oh, here comes a
steamer. How high she is out of the water."
_Second Lady._ "Yes, dear, but don't you see? It's because the tide's so
low."
* * * * *
[Illustration: AWKWARD
_The aristocratic Jones_ (_rather ashamed of his loud acquaintance,
Brown_). "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!"
_Brown._ "All right, old fellow!--_you_ take _mine_!"]
* * * * *
THE SEASIDE VISITOR'S VADE MECUM.
_Question._ Is it your intention to leave London at once to benefit by
the ocean breezes on the English coast?
_Answer._ Certainly, with the bulk of my neighbours.
_Q._ Then the metropolis will become empty?
_A._ Practically, for only about three and a half millions out of the
four millions will be left behind.
_Q._ What do you consider the remaining residuum?
_A._ From a West End point of view a negligible quantity.
_Q._ Do not some of the Eastenders visit the seaside?
_A._ Yes, at an earlier period in the year, when they pay rather more
for their accommodation than their neighbours of the West.
_Q._ How can this be, if it be assumed that the East is poorer than the
West?
_A._ 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.
_Q._ Has a sojourn by the sea waves any disadvantages?
_A._ 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.
_Q._ And what becomes of the house in town?
_A._ 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.
_Q._ But surely in the last case there would be the certainty of
pecuniary indemnity?
_A._ Cherished relics cannot be restored by their commonplace value in
money.
_Q._ Then, taking one thing with another, the benefit of a visit to the
seaside is questionable?
_A._ 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.
_Q._ But has not the seaside visit a compensating advantage?
_A._ The seaside visit has a compensating advantage of overwhelming
proportions, which completely swallows up and effaces all suggestions of
discomfort--it is the fashion.
* * * * *
[Illustration: PARIS?
"Not if I know it! Give me a quiet month at the seaside, and leave me
alone, please!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: CONVERSATIONAL PITFALLS
_Irene._ "Do you remember Kitty Fowler?"
_Her Friend._ "No, I don't."
_Irene._ "Oh, you _must_ remember Kitty. She was the plainest girl in
Torquay. But I forgot--that was after you left!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Visitor._ "Have you ever seen the sea-serpent?"
_Boatman._ "No, sir. I'm a temperance man."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SEPARATE INTERESTS
_Husband._ "Hi! Maria! Take care of the paint!"
_Painter._ "It don't matter, ma'am. It'll all 'ave to be painted
again!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: CAUTION TO YOUNG LADIES WHO RIDE IN CRINOLINE ON DONKEYS]
* * * * *
[Illustration: MARGATE
_Chatty Visitor._ "I like the place. I always come here. 'Worst of it
is, it's a little too dressy!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS
_Shy but Susceptible Youth._ "Er--_could_ you tell me who that young
lady is--sketching?"
_Affable Stranger._ "She has the misfortune to be my wife!"
_Shy but Susceptible One_ (_desperately anxious to please, and losing
all presence of mind_). "Oh--the misfortune's entirely _yours_, I'm
_sure_!"]
* * * * *
BRILLIANT SUGGESTION (_Overheard at the Seaside_).--_She._ "So much
nicer now that all the visitors have gone. Don't you think so?"
_He._ "Yes, by Jove! So jolly nice and quiet! Often wonder that
_everybody_ doesn't come now when there's nobody here, don't you know!"
* * * * *
[Illustration: A NUISANCE.
_Miss Priscilla._ "Yes; it's a beautiful view. But tourists are in the
habit of bathing on the opposite shore, and that's rather a drawback."
_Fair Visitor._ "Dear me! but at such a distance as that--surely----"
_Miss Priscilla._ "Ah, but with a _telescope_, you know!"]
* * * * *
THE SEASIDE PHOTOGRAPHER
[Illustration]
I do not mean the Kodak fiend,
Who takes snap-shots of ladies dipping,
And gloats o'er sundry views he's gleaned
Of amatory couples "tripping."
No, not these playful amateurs
I sing of, but the serious artist,
Who spreads upon the beach his lures,
What time the season's at its smartest.
His tongue is glib, his terms are cheap,
For ninepence while you wait he'll take you;
Posterity shall, marv'lling, keep
The "tin-type" masterpiece he'll make you.
What though his camera be antique,
His dark-room just a nose-bag humble,
What if his tripod legs are weak,
And threaten constantly to tumble.
No swain nor maiden can withstand
His invitation arch, insidious,
To pose _al fresco_ on the strand--
His _clientele_ are not fastidious.
"You are so lovely", says the wretch,
"Your picture will be quite entrancing!"
And to the lady in the sketch
I overheard him thus romancing.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE RULING PASSION
_Sir Talbot Howard Vere de Vere._ "Ah! Good morning, Mrs. Jones!
Dreadful accident just occurred. Poor young lady riding along the King's
Road--horse took fright--reared, and fell back upon her--dreadfully
injured, I'm sorry to say!"
_Mrs. Woodbee Swellington Jones._ "_Quite_ too shocking, dear Sir
Talbot! Was she--er--a person of position?"
_Sir Talbot Howard Vere de Vere._ "POSITION, by George!! Dooced
uncomfortable position, too, I should say!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD
_Bertie._ "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!"]
* * * * *
ANNALS OF A WATERING-PLACE THAT HAS "SEEN ITS DAY"
[Illustration: TYNEMOUTH]
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.
Both Mr. Wisterwhistle and his chair are peculiar in their respective
ways, and each has a decided 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,"--Mr. Wisterwhistle always referred to
his bath-chair as 'she,' evidently regarding it from the nautical
stand-point as of the feminine gender,--"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 P.M., every hour was took up;
and, mind you, by real downright 'aristocracy,'--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 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 _the One Policeman_!
[Illustration: INDIAMAN GOING INTO PORT]
* * * * *
QUERY AT SOME FASHIONABLE SEASIDE RESORT.--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--ahem!--odours
certainly are?
* * * * *
[Illustration: PERIL!
_Gruff Voice_ (_behind her--she thought she heard her own name_). "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!!"
_Miss Isabella._ "Oh! the horrid wretches! No policeman in sight!
Nothing for it but flight!"
[Is off like a bird!
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS
There were even then quiet spots by the sea where one could be alone
with Nature undisturbed]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SENSE OF PROPERTY
_Botanical Old Gent_ (_in the Brighton Gardens_). "Can you tell me, my
good man, if this plant belongs to the 'Arbutus' family?"
_Gardener_ (_curtly_). "No, sir, it doan't. It b'longs to the
Corporation!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE MINOR ILLS OF LIFE
Portrait of a gentleman attempting to regain his tent after the morning
bath]
* * * * *
[Illustration: MERMAIDS' TOILETS IN '67