100 THE JERSEY COAST. 



rest drove off to leave them ; nor how he bore his 

 lovely burden — plastic grace and beauty personified 

 — bravely in pursuit; nor how his foot chanced to 

 trip — accidentally, of course — and they fell and 

 rolled in the sand together. If he would tell, he 

 could not ; words do not exist for the purpose. 

 Try, male reader, to carry one hundred and twenty 

 pounds of essential loveliness with only a single 

 flannel garment to pi'otect it ; feel it give to your 

 pressure ; clasp its esquisite but yielding contour ; 

 jjress it to your heart, and then in an ecstasy roll 

 ovei- and over with it in the sand. Having done so, 

 endeavor to describe the sensation, or forget that 

 particular girl in a life-time. 



The road to the beach lay through a village for- 

 merly known by the euphonious and distinctive title 

 of Crab Town — a village of a thousand inhabitants. 

 It was evening ere Crab TQ.wn was reached, and 

 just beyond, the driver came upon a bevy of female 

 acquaintances. In a moment the suggestion was 

 made that they should ride; after a little demur 

 they accepted, and were crowded in. The stage 

 was not large, but there would have been room if 

 they had been twice as numerous; they filled every 

 seat, and every lap besides. 



There are days in one's lifetime that should be 

 celebrated as anniversaries ; and if any gentleman 

 has carried in his arms, and rolled in the sand, one 

 charming Jersey girl in the morning, and has had 

 another equally charming sit on his lap in the even- 

 ing, he may look upon that day as never likely to 

 repeat itself. 



