"You're up!"
I retired. As all the shops (possibly a couple of dozen) were closed, I returned to my hotel—really a very comfortable one. In the morning I thought I would have a sea-bath. There were a few machines, which were manipulated with ropes and windlasses. There was an elderly man in charge, who informed me that he could not lower one of these vehicles until his mate returned.
"Gone to breakfast?" I suggested.
"Breakfast—no one here has time for breakfast!" was the reply.
When I left, the landlord again murmured his thanks for the honour I had done him by patronising his hotel. Still anxious to preserve my incognito, in bidding him adieu I begged him not to allow my name to appear in the Visitors' List.
"You may be sure I won't Sir," said he with a bow as he opened the door, and a tip-inviting "boots" put my portmanteau on the omnibus starting for the station,—"as I don't know it!"
On the whole I prefer Eastend-on-Mud to Teapot Bay!