36 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



flat coastline Is pretty lonely, and if I have a mania, 

 it is for treasure-seeking on the sea-shore. 

 From force of habits displayed by writers for 

 the young and upwards, I have learned to expect 

 palm trees chucked in and a coral reef, not con- 

 sidered as an extra, laid on for seeking in good 

 form. But if palms and corals and wrecks are 

 *' off " I can do without them so long as the shore 

 is there and I have a fair chance of besting the 

 Lord of the Manor and the Crown and the Lords 

 of the Admiralty, the underwriters or original 

 owners of precious flotsam, jetsam, and lagan that 

 comes my way cast up by the sea or hidden by, 

 for preference, buccaneers, homicidal volunteer 

 fleeters. All or some of the powers named might, 

 you know, want a corner if you discovered treasure 

 too openly. That is why I prefer a lonely coast 

 like Selsey's. But, lonely or lively, in the sense 

 of being populous, all are alike to me, for search 

 I must, buoyed up by faith in somebody's ship- 

 load, or part of it, coming home for me before I 

 give up treasure-seeking, which, I give you my 

 word, is (the seeking) a thing I have never once 

 missed doing on any sea-shore I have trodden. 

 As it was, at Selsey I nearly missed the return 

 tram and a second dose of land-on-sea sickness 

 through straying farther along the beach than 

 time really allowed, and satisfying myself that 

 what looked like an old broken boat-side — and 

 was such, too^ — was not treasure in disguise, and 

 so was obliged to scamp the village In hurry to 

 get to the tin station. 



