Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-08-28
=" Down by the Sea-"

NASTAsKET BEACH, August is, 1878.
Messrs. Editors 1t Ia the sabbath Of the
Lord" At least, according to the almanac and my
diary, II have kept the run Of 1t correctly. thi-
IL the first day Of the week and the steamer
which brought us here from the city-a distance
OF sixteen or eighteen mes-demanded rs fare
full quarter Of u dollar in consideration Of IT,
being Sunday, whereas the fare on any other day
is only fifteen cents So 1t is safe to assume that
in county and town, among good Christian people
it is the day Of rest and Of public worship; but
beyond the sacred concerts of the brass bands,
and sometimes a little preaching in the hotel par
ors, there is no great attempt at religious mani.
festation here.
"The Beach " il perhaps quite as popular with
aristocratc Boston as the country or the noun
tains; and with democratic Boston 1t Is mostly
more 10, for 1t is within reach OF everybody who
raise the few cents ssary to pay the cheap
excursion fare to any and all points and places OF
interest in and about the harbor, and for a con-
siderable distance up and down the coast; and
those who are confined ~ their labOrs during the
week seem to consider themselves justified in
| taking to the excursion boats on Sunday. The
fare is little higher then / suppose, partly be-
cause there il more money in it, and partly ~ di-
mnsh the vast throngs who used to load down
the steamers on that day, so as to render them
dangerous and uncomfortable to all on board.
Nantasket contains several miles of sandy beach.
the land slohng very gradually into the sea, 50
that when the tide is out there is a wide space
which at ebb tide is covered with several feet OF
water. And this presents hard surface which
is now well dotted over with carriages of all sorts
and sprinkled with pedestrians, walking up and
down." and gazing out upon the landless deep, OF
listening to the music Of the waves as they break
mildly upon the shore and against each other, and
then reccde little only to return again with til,
same musical roar, which, though so constant, IL
still 10 enchanting. Wild and romantic and fas
cinating ia the ceaseess moaning and murmur o
the changeful and changeess sea.
Near the steamboat landings are several hotels
and the great pavilion free to ALL" where tn
bands play and the crowds gather 10 listen u
them, and farther away ia AN occasional " tent Of
the beach though not all of them such a
Whittier describes-while the surf always con
tains more or less bathers and swimmers, in suit
which are "to let" together with convenieu
rooms for the necessary change, at short distance
along the shore, and especially near where the ca
cursionists first reach the waters edge. An
those who are too poor or too stingy-like new
paper writers-to afford the twenty five cent
asked for the use Of bathing suit or too fastic
ous concerning who has worn the suit last, {
: whether II has been duly Numbered since-as
suspect it sometimes hasn't--they can disrobe I'll
pedal extremities and walk eisurely along on II
wet sand or even dip the feet little in the e'
IRENE edge Of the wave as it spreads ont so thi
upon the shore, and get so much Of the populi
= sea bathing without money and without price.
observed young lady --whO seemed quite a
0 amateur in the art of doing it gracefully
ing in that way, and the young man who carrie
+ her boots and stockings was watching the proce
i apparently with considerable interest. Her obje
l. seemed to be to get just near enough to the a
preaching wave that its last gentle swell mig
break with its sweet lullaby over her great to
Doesn't that sound poetic? | don't know but
e ought to be set in rhyme. And have half a mil
II to try it
1t A maiden walked by the murmuring sea-
|, Her bare feet pressing the blushng sand
+ And mermaid more bhe than SHE
n Her boots and stockings borne by the hand
:. Of loving swain. who watched with pride
> Or something akin thereto, suppose;
4 The gentle break OF the swelling tide
In its lapsing lullaby her toes.
,. But | fear am getting beyond my depth. la
> rowing my paper canoe too far out to sea. | W
"a come ashore. will give the reader time to refi'
\, upon this lofty flight of my poetic fancy and t
10 pleasing incident which it describes before |
ia tempt any more pen pictures of things down
II, the sea WiLLouGHBY.