OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN. 273 



" Yes, there ain't a many people 'ere to-day, and I ain't 

 done much. It's sixpence is the regular thing, but it's what 

 you like to give the gal, Sir." 



I shuddered. The romance had vanished. She had 

 change for half-a-crown, that is, she gave me a shilling, said 

 " Thankye, Sir," showed me out through a gate, which she 

 locked on the inside, and then I was alone on Shanklin 

 Beach — alone with the bathing-machines. 



Shanklin will be a great place one of these days, when the 

 climate is changed and the projected buildings are finished. 



Your Representative dined at Shanklin, and, as up to six 

 in the afternoon there is nothing to do at Shanklin, and after 

 that hour still less, I returned by the up-train to Ryde. 



As regards any public amusement, the evenings at Ryde 

 are a trifle dull. However, if fine, everybody is out till they 

 turn in for the night ; and, if wet, everybody turns in, and 

 won't go out. Ventriloquists and Conjurors occasionally try 

 their luck here, and do well, I believe, for once only. 



At one time I thought of turning this absence of entertain- 

 ment to as good account as did an enterprising gentleman 

 with a limited knowledge of legerdemain in California. It 

 occurred to me that I might get one good house, and that 

 then I should have to leave before the performance was over, 

 with, of course, the cash-box, so as to save that valuable 

 article from the fury of the audience. It was the story of the 

 above-mentioned conjuror in the gold regions that suggested 

 the idea. His name was Timmins, or something like it, and 

 he knew about as many tricks as would make him an agree- 

 able after-dinner companion when the conversation flagged. 



