IV A FEW HOURS' LEAVE 257 



When some hundreds came ashore for a few 

 hours' leave, a laughing crowd collected upon the 

 sea-wall late at night, to watch them shove off to 

 their ships. It had been an evening of it. The 

 lights of their cutters, steadied by men with poles, 

 swayed at the water's edge like big fireflies. The 

 complement of each boat was told over almost 

 frenziedly. 'Where's So-and-so? Where the 

 ****** ****'s he got to? Go'n find him. Tell 

 'en to hurry up for the Lord's sake!' Language 

 on the beach was starlike. Now and again the 

 crowd turned, whilst a bluejacket came racing 

 down the street, leapt off the wall, and rushed to 

 the boats. One man dived overboard twice, 

 whether from stimulated depression or from an 

 excess of jollity, I do not know. He was rescued, 

 a limp bundle, and sat upon. Some had their 

 arms round maidens' waists, kissing openly. They 

 had been in the town only one evening. People 

 talked. But it seemed to me better that the Navy 

 chaps should have such a way with them, than 

 that the maidens should have been more modest. 

 It was a bacchanalia, an outbreak of primal forces 

 good to watch, and reassuring in these decorous 

 days. Our own beachcombings are odds and 

 ends, flotsam and jetsam, to eke out a living. 



S 



