The Bathing Season 



had the pleasure to present his pamphlet to Cardinal 

 Manning. And the Cardinal bowed and put it in his 

 pocket. 



Just as everybody walks on the sunny side of 

 Regent-street, so there are certain spots on the beach 

 where people crowd together. This is one of them; 

 just west of the West Pier there is a fair between 

 eleven and one every bright morning. Everybody 

 goes because everybody else does. Mamma goes 

 down to bathe with her daughters and the little ones ; 

 they take two machines at least; the pater comes to 

 smoke his cigar; the young fellows of the family-party 

 come to look at " the women," as they irreverently 

 speak of the sex. So the story runs on ad infinitum, 

 down to the shoeless ones that turn up everywhere. 

 Every seat is occupied ; the boats and small yachts are 

 filled; some of the children pour pebbles into the 

 boats, some carefully throw them out ; wooden spades 

 are busy; sometimes they knock each other on the 

 head with them, sometimes they empty pails of sea- 

 water on a sister's frock. There is a squealing, squal- 

 ling, screaming, shouting, singing, bawling, howling, 

 whistling, tin-trumpeting, and every luxury of noise. 

 Two or three bands work away; niggers clatter their 

 bones; a conjurer in red throws his heels in the air; 

 several harps strum merrily different strains; fruit- 

 sellers push baskets into folks' faces; sellers of 

 wretched needlework and singular baskets coated 

 with shells thrust their rubbish into people's laps. 

 These shell baskets date from George IV. The 

 gingerbeer men and the newsboys cease not from 

 troubling. Such a volume of uproar, such a complete 

 organ of discord I mean a whole organful cannot 

 be fount! anywhere else on the face of the earth in so 

 comparatively small a space. It is a sort of triangular 

 153 



