ON THE BEACH AT DAYTONA. 58 
hotels, they were happy in having at least 
one thing which they loved to do. Blessed 
is the invalid who has an outdoor hobby. 
One man, whom I met more than once in 
my beach rambles, seemed to devote himself 
to bathing, running, and walking. He looked 
like an athlete; I heard him tell how far 
he could run without getting “ winded ;” and 
as he sprinted up and down the sand in his 
scanty bathing costume, I always found him 
a pleasing spectacle. Another runner there 
gave me a half-hour of amusement that turned 
at the last to a feeling of almost painful 
sympathy. He was not in bathing costume, 
nor did he look particularly athletic. He 
was teaching his young lady to ride a bicycle, 
and his pupil was at that most interesting 
stage of a learner’s career when the machine 
is beginning to steady itself. With a very 
little assistance she went bravely, while at the 
same time the young man felt it necessary 
not to let go his hold upon her for more than 
a few moments at once. At all events, he 
must be with her at the turn. She plied the 
pedals with vigor, and he ran alongside or 
behind, as best he could; she excited, and 
he out of breath. Back and forth they went, 
