Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1891-09-10

Surf bathing is something that may be
enjoyed just as much of the year as one
can stand it. There is an old sea captain
at Long Branch, who takes dip in the
ocean every day the year round, no mat
ter what the temperature. And tits rare
that the water and wind are warm enough
to keep one from shivering when one
steps out of the waves.
The fun of it is its social side. To lie
for long hours in the warm sand when
one is dry; to run races on the smooth
beach; one can run so swiftly unimpeded
by shoes, or unnecessary clothing; to play
and frisk and gambol and kick ones
heels up like young colts-all this is
pleasanter than struggling powerless
with tremendous breakers, diving until
ones breath is gone, or floating face up
ward, and being unceremonlOusly turn
ed over and sOused by an unlOOked-for
comber. Then there is the delightsome
freedom from conventionality that comes
with freedom from clothing. One could
scarcely fancy wild, naked savage bow
ing; no more does one in bathing costume
feel like executing this Chesterfieldlan
movement, or like lifting the straw
apology for hat that he wears, If he
wears any. Among books that ought to
be written is one on the Etiquette of the
Surf" in which the lax forms that gov
ern in this approach to the Edenic sim
plicity shall be clearly laid down. The
form of introduction that has prevailed
among bathing-su lOungers is wipe
with handful of wet sand. The reeep-
ton which this act meets determines the
temperature of the resulting acquaint-
anceship. But let no rash youth pre-
sumo on acquaintance thus formed. 1t
will do for the sand and surf, and he had
best make the most of it then, for it can
go no farther.
OF course a bathing costume aeeentu-
ates female loveliness, when such lowell
ness really exists, and there is no make
up. 1t is merely a trite truism that the
less that this attribute is adorned the
better. But when beauty is a sham.
when skill and art cover up inherent de
fects. then let the owner take her bath
away from the shore. a made-up beauty
may go in the march from the bath-house
to the waves, or she may even pass with
credit a sand and sun frOlic, but one
swash of old Neptune reduces all dis
puises and uncovers the truth no matter
how CHASTITY. Amid vanity, the truth is
often ghastly. A fat man shorn of the
equipage of his clothes is a revelation.
His lack of shape is something you would
not have dreamed of. A long, and slen-
der woman, too, without her skirts, is
puzzling sight. But the apparition of
woman who is old, and fat, as she emerg-
es from the sea is of all things that l
have seen on land or ocean supremely ug-
ly. Her unwieldly bulk is absolutely
without form; you would not have sup
posed that the human form divine could
have lapsed to this. The salt waves
have unwOund her gray locks, and they
rope down over shoulders, eminently out
of place. You shudder because they are
gray. The water brings out every feature
and patch of ugliness that is the most re-
pulsive. AS she stands dripping and
gasping, she may be sight for gods, but
she is not for men. Why do not such
persons keep their forms concealed by
the wrappages that civilization has for