“You don't say so!” said Jim, evidently disappointed and chop-fallen at this discovery of his groundless fears. “Well, I only wish I'd known it, that's all!”—then, cogitating inwardly for a minute, he continued—“but, I say, Tom, you won't mention this little fright of yours?”
“No; but I'll mention the great fright—of Jim Smith—rely upon it,” said Tom, firmly; and he kept his word so faithfully, that the next day the whole story was circulated, with many ingenious additions, to the great annoyance of the practical joker.
FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.
“Here we go up—up—up;
And here we go down—down—down.”
“VARIETY,” as Cowper says, “is the very spice of life”—and certainly, at Margate, there is enough, in all conscience, to delight the most fastidious of pleasure-hunters.
There sailors ply for passengers for a trip in their pleasure boats, setting forth all the tempting delights of a fine breeze—and woe-betide the unfortunate cockney who gets in the clutches of a pair of plyers of this sort, for he becomes as fixed as if he were actually in a vice, frequently making a virtue of necessity, and stepping on board, when he had much better stroll on land.
Away he goes, on the wings of the wind, like—a gull! Should he be a knave, it may probably be of infinite service to society, for he is likely ever afterwards to forswear craft of any kind!
Donkies too abound, as they do in most watering placesand, oh! what a many asses have we seen mounted, trotting along the beach and cliffs!