ON THE BEACH AT DAYTON A. 59 



had come for a day's picnic at the cottage. 

 Things being as they were (eight women), 

 she could hardly invite me to share the fes- 

 tivities, and, with my best apology for the 

 intrusion, I withdrew. 



Of one building on the sand-hills I have 

 peculiarly pleasant recollections. It was not 

 a cottage, but had evidently been put up as 

 a public resort; especially, as I inferred, 

 for Sunday-school or parish picnics. It was 

 furnished with a platform for speech-making 

 (is there any foolishness that men will not 

 commit on sea beaches and mountain tops?), 

 and, what was more to my purpose, was 

 open on three sides. I passed a good deal 

 of time there, first and last, and once it 

 sheltered me from a drenching shower of 

 an hour or two. The lightning was vivid, 

 and the rain fell in sheets. In the midst of 

 the blackness and commotion, a single tern, 

 ghostly white, flew past, and toward the 

 close a bunch of sanderlings came down the 

 edge of the breakers, still looking for some- 

 thing to eat. The only other living things 

 in sight were two young fellows, who had 

 improved the opportunity to try a dip in the 

 surf. Their color indicated that they were 



