And last (and commonest of all) the cockney who, after a week's experience of the discomforts of the seaside, is weary of them, and wants to go home. * * * * * A WINDY CORNER AT BRIGHTON (_By an Impressionist_) Old lady first, with hair like winter snows, Makes moan. And struggles. Then, with cheeks too richly rose, A crone, Gold hair, new teeth, white powder on her nose; All bone And skin; an "Ancient Mystery", like those Of Hone. Then comes a girl; sweet face that freshly glows! Well grown. The neat cloth gown her supple figure shows Now thrown In lines of beauty. Last, in graceless pose, Half prone, A luckless lout, caught by the blast, one knows His tone Means oaths; his hat, straight as fly crows, Has flown. I laugh at him, and----Hi! By Jove, there goes My own! * * * * * ON THE SANDS (_A Sketch at Margate_) _Close under the Parade wall a large circle has been formed, consisting chiefly of Women on chairs and camp-stools, with an inner ring of small Children, who are all patiently awaiting the arrival of a troupe of Niggers. At the head of one of the flights of steps leading up to the Parade, a small and shrewish Child-nurse is endeavouring to detect and recapture a pair of prodigal younger Brothers, who have given her the slip._ _Sarah_ (_to herself_). Wherever can them two plegs have got to? (_Aloud; drawing a bow at a venture._) Albert! 'Enery! Come up 'ere this minnit. _I_ see yer! _'Enery_ (_under the steps--to Albert_). I say--d'ye think she _do_?--'cos if---- _Albert._ Not she! Set tight. [_They sit tight._ _Sarah_ (_as before_). 'Enery! Albert! You've bin and 'alf killed little Georgie between yer! _'Enery_ (_moved, to Albert_). Did you 'ear that, Bert? It wasn't _me_ upset him--was it now? _Albert_ (_impenitent_). 'Oo cares? The Niggers'll be back direckly. _Sarah._ Al-bert! 'Enery! Your father's bin down 'ere once after you. You'll _ketch_ it! _Albert_ (_sotto voce_). Not till father ketches _us_, we shan't. Keep still, 'Enery--we're all right under 'ere! _Sarah_ (_more diplomatically_). 'Enery! Albert! Father's bin and left a 'ap'ny apiece for yer. Ain't yer comin' up for it? If yer don't want it, why, stay where you are, that's all! _Albert_ (_to 'Enery_). I _knoo_ we 'adn't done nothin'. An' I'm goin' up to git that 'ap'ny, I am. _'Enery._ So 'm I. [_They emerge, and ascend the steps--to be pounced upon immediately by the ingenious Sarah._ _Sarah._ 'Ap'ny, indeed! You won't git no 'apence _'ere_, I can tell yer--so jest you come along 'ome with me!