THE JEBSEY COAST. 135 



" No, I had no time for that ; I landed them, hand 

 over hand." 



" Well, after that story it's time we went to bed ; 

 so good-night." 



During that night the mosquitoes, bad as they 

 had been, were more terrible than at any time pre- 

 vious. Favored by the late frequent rains, they 

 had become more numerous than had ever been 

 known on the beach ; and being consequently com- 

 pelled to subdivide to an unusual degree the ordi- 

 narily small supply of food, they were savagely 

 hungry. Sleep was out of the question, and after 

 trying all sorts of devices from gunpowder to mos- 

 quito-nets, the party wandered out of doors, and, 

 scattering in search of a place of retreat, afforded an 

 excellent representation of unhappy ghosts on the 

 banks of the Styx. The shore, near the surf, and the 

 bathing-houses had heretofore been tolerably secure 

 resorts, but, on this unprecedented night, a special 

 meeting of mosquitoes seemed to have been called in 

 that neighborhood. 



Those that tried the ground, and covei"ed them- 

 selves carefully from head to foot, found that the 

 enterprising long-legs disregarded the customary 

 habits of their race, and consented to crawl down 

 their sleeves, up their pants, or through the folds of 

 the blanket. The sand-fleas also were numerous 

 and lively, bounding about in an unpleasantly active 

 way ; and where there were neither mosquitoes nor 

 sand-fleas, the nervous sufferer imagined every grain 



