DECEMBER 447 



Kessingland, accomplishing most of the journc-y upon a bicycle. 

 The ride from Lowestoft, in the very teeth of the wind, was the 

 hardest I have ever undertaken. Very frequently, indeed, I was 

 obliged to dismount and push behind, a duty that was not made more 

 entertaining by the vision of a curate, cigarette in mouth, sailing past 

 me in the opposite direction, his feet reposing on the rests. I 

 wonder why it is, by the way, that most curates and many clergymen 

 ride bicycles so madly ? Thrice have I nearly fallen a victim to their 

 rage — the last time, indeed, I just escaped being run down by a 

 coasting covey of six of them at once. 



At length I turned down the lane which leads to Cliff Grange, 

 the very easternmost dwelling, I suppose, in the whole kingdom, 

 and as the wind was now upon my side, got along much better, 

 until a sudden and ferocious gust blew me and the bicycle several 

 yards into a ploughed field. The sight from the cliff was very 

 grand — a sullen, tempest-fretted sea raging beneath a low and 

 sullen sky. But a gale from the sou'-west is not that which does 

 damage on the eastern coast— it is the nor'-easter that we dread, 

 especially if it be accompanied by very high tides. This was what 

 happened in the great storm of last December, when the tide and 

 the sea rose higher than they are believed to have done for the 

 best part of a century. The damage at Lowestoft, Southwold, 

 Pakefield, &c., was enormous, and as I had recently come into 

 possession of this Kessingland property, my state of mind until 

 I heard that it had taken no harm can be imagined. I think, 

 however, that if our cliff will resist the worst onslaught of two 

 generations, for the future we may sleep at ease. As a matter 

 of fact, indeed, the beach at Kessingland is increasing in width ; 

 in front of my house it has risen more than five feet in height 

 during a single year. This is consoling, but he who has to 

 deal with the sea can never be quite certain of anything. If 

 old Ocean wishes to have a thing he will take it, and at present he 

 is taking Southwold and Pakefield, with other places ; also large 

 stretches of marshland are being ruined by the continual advance 

 of the tide along the rivers. 



