SEA-SIDE VISITORS. 29 



on tlie beach, their first two or three hours' "sail," from which 

 they return looking very green — after they have seen the 

 sunset once, they relai)se into utter novel-reading. Not only 

 do they here read more novels than at home, but they are 

 content to read the novels no one reads at home. Look at 

 that young gentleman who has brought two volumes with 

 him to the Parade. He finds the place so dull that he must 

 read even when in the open air ; yet when at home he has 

 not the reputation of a severe student ; he is not known to 

 read at his meals, or burn the midnight oil ; he is rather a 

 stupid young gentleman, if the truth be told, and eyes us and 

 our jars with measureless contempt, wondering " what the 

 doose we can do, you know, with that sort of thing, you 

 know." Then, again, I should not call that lady who scru- 

 tinises us gloomily through the blue veil of a cavernous bon- 

 net ; nor that severe and " rather intellectual-looking " lady 

 with crimp curls, whom we presume to be a schoolmistress ; 

 nor that grim gentleman, who, we are sure, is a Methodist 

 with an imperfect liver ; nor those three sisters in their teens, 

 " sent " to the coast with their governess, — not one of these 

 should I call successful at the sea-side. Indeed, I meet with 

 very few successes. The children, of course, are excluded. 

 Master Tommy, in gorgeous hat and feathers, may " worrit " 

 his maid by the persistence he displays in " getting liisself 

 wet ; " but the young rascal has got a spade, and means to 

 enjoy himself, and does what he means. Another perfectly 

 happy person amid all this weariness is yon elderly gentle- 

 man, with large stomach, white waistcoat, and a general 

 sense of '•' well to do," who has escaped from care for a few 



