although I fancy, from the appearance of a small barber’s pole that I found in front of a cottage, that the hair-dressing interest must have had a local representative.  For the rest, an air of hopefulness, if not precisely cheerfulness, was given to the place by the presence of a Convalescent Hospital.  Leaving the village behind me, I came, footsore and staggering, at length to the Bay.  I was cruelly disappointed.  Below me was what appeared to be a small portion of Rosherville, augmented with two bathing-machines, and a residence for the Coast-guard.  There was a hotel, (with a lawn-tennis ground), and several placards, telling of land to let.  The descent to the sea was very steep, and, on the high road above it, painfully modern villas were putting in a disfiguring appearance.  On the beach was a melancholy pic-nic party, engaged in a mild carouse.  In the gloaming was a light-ship, marking the end of the Goodwin Sands.

On a beautiful day no doubt St. Margaret’s Bay would look quite as lovely as Gravesend, but when it rained I question whether it would compare favourably with Southend under similar atmospheric circumstances.  There was some shrubbery creeping up the white hill-side that may have been considered artistic, and possibly the great expanse of ocean (when completely free from mist) had to a certain extent a sort of charm.  As I looked towards the coast of France I had an excellent view of a steamer, crammed with (presumably) noisy excursionists, coming from Margate.  But when I have said this I have nothing more to add, save that you can get from Martin’s Mill to St. Margaret’s Bay by an omnibus.  By catching this conveyance you avoid a tedious walk, which puts you out of temper for the rest of the day.

P.S.—­I missed the omnibus!

* * * * *

Good young “Zummerset!”

(CHAMPION IN CRICKET OF THE SECOND-CLASS COUNTIES.)

Eight matches played, and eight matches won! That’s what none of the First-class Counties have done.  ’Tis clear that Young Zummerset knows “how to do it.”  Bravo, PALAIRET, Woods, Tyler, Roe, Hewitt!  Go on in this fashion, and soon you’ll be reckoned Among the First-Classers, instead of the Second.  Wet wickets this season, boys, seldom a rummer set, But they anyhow seem to have suited Young Zummerset!

* * * * *

The real grievance office.

(BEFORE Mr. Commissioner Punch.)

    A Medical Officer (with martial manner, and well set up)
    introduced.

The Commissioner.  Well, Sir—­may I call you Colonel?—­what can I do for you?

Medical Officer (smiling).  I am afraid, Sir, you may give me no military rank, as it would be contrary to the Regulations.

The Com. Have I not the pleasure of addressing a soldier?