92 ALONGSHORE n 



for boats an' would snap up any oV craft along 

 the beach. Now they wants 'em varnished. Ah ! 

 times be altered.' 



Soon, of an afternoon, the 'bus comes down 

 from the station piled up with luggage, and a line 

 of cabs races across the Front, each one containing 

 people who gaze at the sea with a happy anxiety. 

 'There thee a't ! There they be ! They'm com- 

 ing in. There's thic chap — do 'ee mind? — w^hat 

 used to go to sea 'long wi' me an' carry away all 

 the mackerel us catched. . . .' 



"Twas my fright, by rights. They went to 

 sea long wi' me first, only I was to sea the second 

 time when they come'd down to the boats, an' 

 thee wast here; an' then they continued, like, 'long 

 wi' thee.' 



'Well, 't don't much matter that I sees, not 

 wi' they sort that hauls an' tears abroad your 

 lines, an' then carries away all the fish you catches, 

 wi'out giving o'ee anything extra. What do they 

 want wi' six dozen macker, unless they'm fish- 

 mongers or lets 'em rot? Anyhow, the people's 

 beginning to come in, sure 'nufi,' 



Shortly afterwards they come out and walk 

 along the front, still rather townish in clothes and 

 manner and complexion, greeting acquaintances if 



