was! Up hill, down dale, along the dustiest of dusty roads, bordered
by telegraph poles that suggested an endless lane without a turning.
On climbing to the summit of each hill another long stretch of road
presented itself. At length the village was reached, and I looked
about me for the sea. A cheerful young person who was flirting with a
middle-aged cyclist seemed surprised when I asked after it. "Oh, the
sea!" she exclaimed, in a tone insinuating that the ocean was at a
decided discount in her part of the world--"oh, you will find _that_
a mile further on." I sighed wearily, and recommenced my plodding
stumbles.

I passed two unhappy-looking stone eagles protecting a boarding-house,
and a shed given over to the sale of lollipops and the hiring
of a pony-chaise. The cottages seemed to me to be of the
boat-turned-bottom-upwards order of architecture, and were adorned
with placards, announcing "Apartments to Let." Everything seemed to
let, except, perhaps, the church, which, however (on second thoughts),
appeared to be let alone. But if the houses were not, in themselves,
particularly inviting, their names were pleasing enough, although,
truth to tell, a trifle misleading. For instance, there was a "Marine
Lodge," which seemed a very considerable distance from the ocean,
and a "Swiss _chalet_," that but faintly suggested the land renowned
equally for mountains and merry juveniles. I did not notice any shops,
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