Master Tommy is emphatically of the opinion that the sexes ought not to bathe together.] * * * * * [Illustration: WHITBOROUGH. LOW TIDE. ARRIVAL OF THE SCARBY STEAMER] * * * * * [Illustration: "DENUDATION" _Niece_ (_after a header_). "Oh, aunt, you're not coming in with your spectacles on?" _Aunt Clarissa_ (_who is not used to bathe in the "open"_). "My dear, I positively won't take off anything more, I'm determined!!"] * * * * * TO THE FIRST BATHING-MACHINE (_After Wordsworth_) [Illustration: MOORINGS] O Blank new-comer! I have seen, I see thee with a start: So gentle looking a Machine, Infernal one thou art! When first the sun feels rather hot, Or even rather warm, From some dim, hibernating spot Rolls forth thy clumsy form. Perhaps thou babblest to the sea Of sunshine and of flowers; Thou bringest but a thought to me Of such bad quarter hours. I, grasping tightly, pale with fear, Thy very narrow bench, Thou, bounding on in wild career, All shake, and jolt, and wrench. Till comes an unexpected stop; My forehead hits the door, And I, with cataclysmic flop, Lie on thy sandy floor. Then, dressed in Nature's simplest style, I, blushing, venture out; And find the sea is still a mile Away, or thereabout. Blithe little children on the sand Laugh out with childish glee; Their nurses, sitting near at hand, All giggling, stare at me. Unnerved, unwashed, I rush again Within thy tranquil shade, And wait until the rising main Shall banish child and maid. Thy doors I dare not open now, Thy windows give no view; 'Tis late; I will not bathe, I vow; I dress myself anew. * * * * * [Illustration: "THALATTA! THALATTA!" _General chorus_ (_as the children's excursion nears its destination_). "Oh, I say! There's the sea! 'Ooray!!" _Small boy._ "I'll be in fust!"] * * * * * HOW TO ENJOY A HOLIDAY _A Social Contrast_ [Illustration: ILE OF MAN] I.--THE WRONG WAY _Pater._ Here at last! A nice reward for a long and tedious journey! _Mater._ Well, you were always complaining in town. _Pater._ Broken chairs, rickety table, and a hideous wall-paper! _Mater._ Well, I didn't buy the chairs, make the table, or choose the wall-paper. Discontent is your strong point. _Pater._ And is likely to remain so. Really, that German band is unbearable! _Mater._ My dear, you have no ear for music. Why, you don't even care for my songs! You used to say you liked them once. _Pater._ So I did--thirty years ago! _Mater._ Before our marriage! And I have survived thirty years! _Pater._ Eh? What do you mean by that, madam? _Mater._ Anything you please. But come--dinner's ready.