"Not if I know it! Give me a quiet month at the seaside, and leave me alone, please!"] * * * * * [Illustration: CONVERSATIONAL PITFALLS _Irene._ "Do you remember Kitty Fowler?" _Her Friend._ "No, I don't." _Irene._ "Oh, you _must_ remember Kitty. She was the plainest girl in Torquay. But I forgot--that was after you left!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Visitor._ "Have you ever seen the sea-serpent?" _Boatman._ "No, sir. I'm a temperance man."] * * * * * [Illustration: SEPARATE INTERESTS _Husband._ "Hi! Maria! Take care of the paint!" _Painter._ "It don't matter, ma'am. It'll all 'ave to be painted again!"] * * * * * [Illustration: CAUTION TO YOUNG LADIES WHO RIDE IN CRINOLINE ON DONKEYS] * * * * * [Illustration: MARGATE _Chatty Visitor._ "I like the place. I always come here. 'Worst of it is, it's a little too dressy!"] * * * * * [Illustration: UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS _Shy but Susceptible Youth._ "Er--_could_ you tell me who that young lady is--sketching?" _Affable Stranger._ "She has the misfortune to be my wife!" _Shy but Susceptible One_ (_desperately anxious to please, and losing all presence of mind_). "Oh--the misfortune's entirely _yours_, I'm _sure_!"] * * * * * BRILLIANT SUGGESTION (_Overheard at the Seaside_).--_She._ "So much nicer now that all the visitors have gone. Don't you think so?" _He._ "Yes, by Jove! So jolly nice and quiet! Often wonder that _everybody_ doesn't come now when there's nobody here, don't you know!" * * * * * [Illustration: A NUISANCE. _Miss Priscilla._ "Yes; it's a beautiful view. But tourists are in the habit of bathing on the opposite shore, and that's rather a drawback." _Fair Visitor._ "Dear me! but at such a distance as that--surely----" _Miss Priscilla._ "Ah, but with a _telescope_, you know!"] * * * * * THE SEASIDE PHOTOGRAPHER [Illustration] I do not mean the Kodak fiend, Who takes snap-shots of ladies dipping, And gloats o'er sundry views he's gleaned Of amatory couples "tripping." No, not these playful amateurs I sing of, but the serious artist, Who spreads upon the beach his lures, What time the season's at its smartest. His tongue is glib, his terms are cheap, For ninepence while you wait he'll take you; Posterity shall, marv'lling, keep The "tin-type" masterpiece he'll make you. What though his camera be antique, His dark-room just a nose-bag humble, What if his tripod legs are weak, And threaten constantly to tumble. No swain nor maiden can withstand His invitation arch, insidious, To pose _al fresco_ on the strand-- His _clientèle_ are not fastidious.