_chignon_, and left me her horrid black one!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: LOW TIDE ON SCARBOROUGH SANDS--BATHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
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.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SEASIDE PUZZLE
To find your bathing-machine if you've forgotten the number]
* * * * *
[Illustration: VENUS (ANNO DOMINI 1892) RISES FROM THE SEA!!]
* * * * *
SEASIDE DRAMA.--_Mrs. de Tomkyns_ (_sotto voce, to Mr. de T._).
"Ludovic, dear, there's Algernon playing with a strange child! _Do_
prevent it!"
_Mr. de T._ (_ditto, to Mrs. de T._). "How on earth am I to prevent it,
my love?"
_Mrs. de T._ "Tell its parents Algernon is just recovering from scarlet
fever, or something!"
_Mr. de T._ "But it isn't true!"
_Mrs. de T._ "Oh, never mind! Tell them, all the same!"
_Mr. de T._ (_aloud_). "Ahem! Sir, you'd better not let your little girl
play with my little boy. He's only just recovering from--er--_Scarlet
Fever_!"
_Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins_ (_together_). "It's all right, sir!--_so's our
little gal!_"
* * * * *
[Illustration: MIXED BATHING
_Fussy Landlady_ (_to new Lodger_). "Well, sir, if you'll only tell me
when you want a bath, _I'll see you have it_."]
* * * * *
BY THE SEASIDE
(_A Gasp and a Growl from Paterfamilias Fogey_)
[Illustration]
In for it here,
Six weeks or more,
Once every year
(Yah, what a bore!)
Daughters and wife
Force me to bide
Mad to "see life"
By the seaside!
Go out of town
What if we do?
Hither comes down
All the world too;
Vanity Fair,
Fashion and Pride,
Seeking fresh air
By the seaside.
Drest up all hands--
Raiment how dear!--
Down on the sands,
Out on the Pier,
Pace to and fro,
See, as at Ryde,
Off how they show
By the seaside!
Fops and fine girls,
Swarm, brisk as bees;
Ribbons and curls
Float on the breeze;
Females and males
Eye and are eyed;
Ogling prevails
By the seaside!
Daughters may see
Some fun in that.
Wife, how can she,
Grown old and fat?
Scene I survey
But to deride,
Idle display
By the seaside.
Views within reach,
Picturesque scenes,
Rocks on the beach,
Bathing machines,
Shingle and pools,
Left by the tide,
Youth, far from schools,
By the seaside.
Artists may sketch,
Draw and design,
Pencil, or etch;
Not in my line.
Money, no end,
Whilst I am tied
Here, I must spend,
By the seaside!
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Snooks_ (_to new acquaintance_). "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 _drawing-room_!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TORQUAY (TALKEY)]
* * * * *
[Illustration: HASTINGS]
* * * * *
[Illustration: GENTILITY IN GREENS
_Mrs. Brown finds Sandymouth a very different place from what she
remembers it years ago._
_Greengrocer._ "Cabbage, mum!? We don't keep no second-class vegetables,
mum. You'll get it at the lower end o' the town!"]
* * * * *
SEASIDE VIEWS
[Illustration: KINGSWEAR]
_Tom Jones_ (_in love_). 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.
_Old Jones._ Beastly slow. All sea and sky, and ugly round stones. You
can't bask in the sun because there is none--it's always raining--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
seat. Hang it all, there isn't a young girl in the place, let alone
pretty ones.
[Illustration: O-SHUN SHELLS!]
_Young Brown_ (_waiting for a Commission_). 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.
_Major Brown_ (_Heavies_). Not half bad kind of diggings. Quite in
clover. Found Lydia here--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 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--good old
man, after all, if he is a fool. Take this note round, Charles, to the
same place.
[Illustration: A CUTTER ON THE BEECH]
_Mrs. Robinson_ (_Materfamilias_). 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--mind, sesqui-sulphate of iron (I suppose
I must find the prescription), and a box of--what's that stuff for sore
throats? And do hire a perambulator with a hood. And we have no dessert
for to-morrow--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--or, by the way, I saw a lovely
chatelaine on the Parade. You might find enough to give me one pleasure
since our wedding.
_Robinson_ (_Paterfamilias_). I like the seaside, I do. When will it be
over?
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SANDY COVE]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A FRAGMENT
Augustus knows a certain snug retreat--
A little rocky cavern by the sea--
Where, sheltered from the rain (and every eye),
He fondly hopes to breathe his tale of love
Into his artless Arabella's ear!...]
* * * * *
[Illustration: LONGING FOR A NEW SENSATION
_Jack_ (_a naughty boy, who is always in disgrace, and most
deservedly_). "I say, Effie, do you know what I should like? I should
like to be accused of something I'd never done!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A LAMENT
_Dowager._ "It's been the worst season I can remember, Sir James! All
the men seem to have got married, and none of the girls!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: JOYS OF THE SEASIDE
_Brown._ "What beastly weather! And the glass is going steadily down!"
_Local Tradesman._ "Oh, that's nothing, sir. The glass has no effect
whatever on _our_ part of the coast!"]
* * * * *
THE BETTER THE DAY, THE BETTER THE TALK!
[Illustration: BROAD-STARES]
SCENE--_Any fashionable Watering-place where "Church Parade" is a
recognised institution._
TIME--_Sunday_, 1 P.M. _Enter_ Brown _and_ Mrs. Brown, _who take
chairs_.
_Mrs. Brown._ Good gracious! Look another way! Those odious people, the
Stiggingses, are coming towards us!
_Brown._ Why odious? I think the girls rather nice.
_Mrs. B._ (_contemptuously_). Oh, _you_ would, because men are so easily
taken in! Nice, indeed! Why, here's Major Buttons.
_B._ (_moving his head sharply to the right_). Don't see him! Can't
stand the fellow! I always avoid him at the Club!
_Mrs. B._ Why? Soldiers are always such pleasant men.
_B._ (_contemptuously_). 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--mind
you don't cut her.
_Mrs. B._ Yes, I shall; the woman is unsupportable. Did you ever see
_such_ a dress. And she has changed the colour of her hair--again!
_B._ Whether she has or hasn't, she looks particularly pleasing.
_Mrs. B._ (_drily_). You were always a little eccentric in your taste!
Why, surely there must be Mr. Pennyfather Robson. How smart he looks!
Where _can_ he have come from?
_B._ The Bankruptcy Court! (_Drily._) You were never particularly famous
for discrimination. As I live, the Plantagenet Smiths!
[_He bows with effusion._
_Mrs. B._ And the Stuart Joneses. (_She kisses her hand gushingly_). By
the way, dear, didn't you say that the Plantagenet Smiths were suspected
of murdering their uncle before they inherited his property?
_B._ 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?
_Mrs. B._ So I have heard, loved one. (_Starting up._) Come, Charley, we
must be off at once! The Goldharts! If they catch us, _she_ is sure to
ask me to visit some of her sick poor!
_B._ And _he_ 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!
[_Exeunt hurriedly._
* * * * *
[Illustration: ROW ME O!]
* * * * *
[Illustration: CURLEW]
* * * * *
AT SCARBOROUGH.--_Miss Araminta Dove._ Why do they call this the Spa?
_Mr. Rhino-Ceros._ Oh! I believe the place was once devoted to boxing
exhibitions.
[_Miss A.D. as wise as ever._
* * * * *
[Illustration: "BY THE SAD SEA WAVES"
_Landlady_ (_who has just presented her weekly bill_). "I 'ope, ma'am,
as you find the bracing hair agree with you, ma'am, and your good
gentleman, ma'am!"
_Lady._ "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!"
[_Landlady feels uncomfortable._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: RATHER DIFFICULT
"Oh, I say, here comes that dismal bore, Bulkley! Let's pretend _we
don't see him_!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PESSIMISM
_Artist_ (_irritated by the preliminaries of composition and the too
close proximity of an uninteresting native_). "I think you needn't wait
any longer. There's really nothing to look at just now."
_Native._ "Ay, an' I doot there'll _never_ be muckle to look at there!"]
* * * * *
THE DONKEY-BOYS OF ENGLAND
(_A Song for the Seaside_)
[Illustration]
The Donkey-Boys of England, how merrily they fly,
With pleasant chaff upon the tongue and cunning in the eye.
And oh! the donkeys in a mass how patiently they stand,
High on the heath of Hampstead, or down on Ramsgate's sand.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they reprove
The brute that won't "come over", with an impressive shove;
And oh! the eel-like animals, how gracefully they swerve
From side to side, but won't advance to spoil true beauty's curve.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how manfully they fight,
When a probable donkestrian comes suddenly in sight;
From nurse's arms the babies are clutch'd with fury wild,
And on a donkey carried off the mother sees her child.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how sternly they defy
The pleadings of a parent's shriek, the infant's piercing cry;
As a four-year-old MAZEPPA is hurried from the spot,
Exposed to all the tortures of a donkey's fitful trot.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how lustily they scream,
When they strive to keep together their donkeys in a team;
And the riders who are anxious to be class'd among genteels,
Have a crowd of ragged Donkey-boys "hallooing" at their heels.
The Donkey-Boys of England, how well they comprehend
The animal to whom they act as master, guide, and friend;
The understanding that exists between them who'll dispute--
Or that the larger share of it falls sometimes to the brute?
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE JETTY]
* * * * *
SEASIDE ACQUAINTANCES (SCENE--The Shady Side of Pall Mall).--_Snob._ My
Lord, you seem to forget me. Don't you recollect our meeting this summer
at Harrogate?
_Swell._ 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.
[_Lifts his chapeau, and leaves Snob in a state of the most speechless
amazement._
* * * * *
[Illustration: Portrait of a gentleman who sent his wife and family to
the seaside, followed by a later train, and left their address behind.
[_Sketched after five hours' futile search for them._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A VOICE FROM THE SEA
"O let me kiss him for his mother!"]
* * * * *
REASONS FOR GOING TO BRIGHTON
(_By the Cynic who stays in London_)
[Illustration: "HA! RICH!"]
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.
Because the shops in the King's Road are _nearly_ as good as those to be
found in Regent Street.
Because the sea does not _always_ look like the Thames at Greenwich in a
fog.
Because some of the perambulating bands play very nearly in tune.
Because the Drive from the Aquarium to the New Pier is quite a mile in
length, and only grows monotonous after the tenth turn.
Because watching fish confined in tanks is such rollicking fun.
Because the Hebrews are so numerously represented on the Green.
Because the Clubs are so inexpensive and select.
Because the management of the Grand is so very admirable.
Because it is so pleasant to follow the Harriers on a hired hack in
company with other hired hacks.
Because the half-deserted Skating Rinks are so very amusing.
Because it is so nice to hear second-rate scandal about third-rate
people.
Because the place is not always being visited by the scarlet fever.
Because it is so cheerful to see the poor invalids taking their morning
airing in their bath-chairs.
Because the streets are paraded by so many young gentlemen from the
City.
Because the Brighton belles look so ladylike in their quiet Ulsters and
unpretending hats.
Because the suburbs are so very cheerful in the winter, particularly
when it snows or rains.
Because on every holiday the Railway Company brings down such a very
nice assortment of excursionists to fill the streets.
Because Brighton in November is so very like Margate in July.
Because, if you did not visit Brighton, you might so very easily go
farther and fare worse.
* * * * *
[Illustration: WESTON-SUPER-MARE]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SCENE--BY THE SAD SEA WAVES
_Tomkins, disconsolate on a rock, traces some characters upon the sand._
_To him, Mrs. Tomkins_ (_whose name is Martha_).
_Mrs. T._ "Well, Mr. Tomkins, and pray who may Henrietta be?"
[_Tomkins utters a yell of despair, and falls prostrate._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A VIKING ON MODERN FASHION
"What does t'lass want wi' yon _boostle_ for? It aren't big enough to
_smoggle_ things, and she can't _steer_ herself wi' it!"]
* * * * *
THE TRIPPER
(_By a Resident_)
What does he come for?
What does he want?
Why does he wander thus
Careworn and gaunt?
Up street and down street with
Dull vacant stare,
Hither and thither, it
Don't matter where?
What does he mean by it?
Why does he come
Hundreds of miles to prowl,
Weary and glum,
Blinking at Kosmos with
Lack-lustre eye?
He doesn't enjoy it, he
Don't even try!
Sunny or soaking, it's
All one to him,
Wandering painfully--
Curious whim!
Gazing at china-shops.
Gaping at sea,
Guzzling at beer-shops, or
Gorging at tea.
Why don't he stay at home,
Save his train fare,
Soak at his native beer,
Sunday clothes wear?
No one would grudge it him,
No one would jeer.
Why does he come away?
Why is he here?
* * * * *
[Illustration: BLACKPOOL]
* * * * *
[Illustration: BRIGHTON]
* * * * *
[Illustration: MARGATE]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING
_Landlady._ "I hope you slept well, sir?"
_New Boarder._ "No, I didn't. I've been troubled with insomnia."
_Landlady._ "Look here, young man. I'll give you a sovereign for every
one you find in that bed!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TOUCHING APPEAL
_Testy Old Gent._ (_wearied by the importunities of the Brighton
boatmen_). "Confound it, man! Do I _look_ as if I wanted a boat?"]
* * * * *
ROBERT AT THE SEASIDE
I've bin spending my long Wacation of a fortnite at Northgate.
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.
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.
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.
Dr. Scratchem too sends most of his favrite cases there, and you can't
walk on the Peer without facing lots on 'em.
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, _Unlimited_,
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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 Peer we don't smell
nuffen at all excep the sea weed.
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.
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.
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 up, or there ain't enough water!
Not enuff water in the Sea to flote a Bote! wen any one could see as
there was thousands of galluns there.
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!
What a nice derangemunt!
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 the Fishmonger's, and
then I'm allowed to buy 'em!
Well if that isn't a butiful business like arrangement, my Lord Mare, I
should like to know what is.
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.
(_Signed_) ROBERT.
* * * * *
[Illustration: LIGHT PUFFS RAISED A LITTLE SWELL]
* * * * *
[Illustration: HEAVY SWELL ON THE BAR]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BELL BUOY]
* * * * *
THE SPIRIT OF THE THING.--_Landlady_ (_to shivering lodger_). 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.
[_Lodger immediately hands her the key as a guarantee of good faith._
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BORES OF THE BEACH
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.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "Excuse me, sir. I seem to have met you before. Are you
not a relative of Mr. Dan Briggs?"
"No, madam. I _am_ Mr. Dan Briggs himself."
"Ah, then that explains the remarkable resemblance!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: ACCOMMODATING
_Lodger._ "And then, there's that cold pheasant, Mrs. Bilkes"----
_Landlady._ "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."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mrs. Brown._ "Might I ask how much you gave that
nigger?"
_Mr. Brown_ (_first day down_). "Sixpence."
_Mrs. B._ "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 _penny_!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PLEASURES OF THE SEASIDE
_Mermaiden._ "I am told you keep a circulating library?"
_Librarian._ "Yes, miss. _There_ 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?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION
_Polite Little Girl_ (_suddenly_). "This is my mamma, sir. Will you
please sing her, 'It's the seasoning wot does it!'"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: OUT OF TOWN (UNFASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE)
_Visitor._ "What a roaring trade the hotels will be doing, with all
these holiday folk!"
_Head waiter at The George._ "Lor bless yer, sir, no! They all bring
their nosebags with 'em!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SEASIDE STUDIES
_Wandering Minstrel._ "Gurls! I'm a doocid fine cha-appie!" &c., &c.]
* * * * *