82 ALONGSHORE n 



rid of them tactfully. 'Git home,' we say, 'an' 

 tell thee mother to wash thee face 1' Poor 

 woman, she has probably done it once or twice 

 already, since they got up, and wants to hurry on 

 with her housework. The kids look, taking our 

 measure. But they don't go. They mean to get 

 down to the beach, they and their babies, and 

 bundles, and perambulators, and go-carts, and 

 slices of bread-and-butter, and penny bottles of 

 raspberry champagne. We, who wish them further, 

 have to help them. For what can we do when a 

 small girl, single-handed, bumpety-bumps a go- 

 cart, containing a baby, half-way down the sea- 

 wall steps, gets stuck, and stops frightened, with 

 the baby wobbling perilously In its swaying go- 

 cart? Drag them up, and they'll only try again. 

 There's nothing for it but to pick up baby, go- 

 cart and all, and carry them down to the beach. 



Then if we should go 'in across up over' for a 

 drink before the thirsty work of the day begins, 

 or if we put early to sea, leaving boats ashore, the 

 kids have their chance. In one boat will be a 

 baby playing with pebbles, each of which will have 

 to be picked out separately by hand. Along the 

 stern-seats of another, which may happen to over- 

 hang the water, ready shoved-down for a 'fright,' 



