138 THE JERSEY COAST. 



deep and heavy with sand, and hardly distinguishable 

 after a heavy rain ; the one-story shanty, that had 

 been our resting-place, soon faded from vieV, and 

 we had nothing in prospect but the dreary journey 

 home. 



At the head of the beach we encountered a bathing- 

 party, and were sorely tempted to join the rollicking 

 girls in a frolic among the breakers ; but, by exerting 

 great self-denial, and shutting our eyes to their attrac- 

 tions, much to my companion's disgust, we kept on 

 our course. We dined at the tavern on the road, 

 and having bade farewell to Bill, and engaged ano- 

 ther team, we reached Crab Town by dusk. 



How changed the village seemed to us ! Where 

 was the precious and beautiful freight that had paid 

 us such delicious toll ? Our eyes peered up and 

 down the road, and into the windows of the scat- 

 tered houses ; our ears listened sharply for the music 

 of merry voices and ringing laughter ; our thoughts 

 reverted to that crowded stage, which had so lately 

 borne us through the village. The road was vacant 

 and desolate ; all sound was hushed and still ; grace- 

 ful forms, clad in yielding drapery, were nowhere to 

 be seen ; the dull lights in the windows revealed 

 nothing to our earnest gaze. Our lovely companions 

 were invisible, although we pursued our search per- 

 sistently till late at night, when, weary and discon- 

 solate, we crawled up to bed in a dismal hostelry 

 kept by Huntsinger. Going sporting into Jersey is 

 delightful, but returning is sad indeed. 



