himself with a bandanna handkerchief and innumerable old pieces of paper
and cloth, as he did so, from head to foot; made a feeble effort to
throw it at the aged lawyer; and then, chair and all, tumbled forward
with a crash to the rug, where he lay in a refreshing sleep.

(_To be Continued._)

* * * * *

CHINCAPIN AT LONG BRANCH.

A QUAKER friend of mine once observed that he loved the Ocean for its
Broad Brim. So do I, but not for that alone. I am partial to it on
account of the somewhat extensive facilities it affords for Sea Bathing.
Learning to swim, by the way, was my principal Elementary study. I have
just returned from taking a plunge in company with many other
distinguished persons. How it cools one to rush into the "Boiling Surf."
How refreshing to dive Below the Billow. I don't think I could ever have
a Surfeit of the Surf, I am so fond of it. Oh! the Sea! the Sea! with
its darkly, deeply cerulean--but stop! I am getting out of my depth.
Would that I were a poet, that I--But I ain't, so what's the use?

As I sat on the verandah of the ------ Hotel the other morning, gazing
on the broad expanse of Ocean and wiping the perspiration which trickled
from my lofty brow, (the thermometer marked 90 degrees,) I could not
help recalling the beautifully appropriate lines of the celebrated bard:

"When the sun's perpendicular rays
Begin to illumine the Sea,
The fishies exclaim in amaze