Evening star., 1895-06-15


the beach is not a slant but like the edge
of a saucer. The surf comes booming up
against the ladies like battering ram 1t
strikes with a terrific thump just at the
madames and dernoiseles are overturned
and cut their tender bare knees on boul-
ders. Her shoes are filled with sand and
pebbles: Take me out! But further on, be-
yond the pusch, the pillows roll with
steady, oily smoothness. 1t is a wild and
hardy bath, with days when every one
cings to the ropes. TIE ladies must trust
to the stafwart bathing masters when their
husbands are too puffy to assist them and
too jealous to permit more unofficial arms
to steady them. On the other hand, there
Is no special. roped-on beach for Ladies
Only, as at Trouville, where the gentle
yelling of the waters up long and perfect
beach of sand permits the sweeter sex to
transfer all their fears from the wild waves
to the sons of men-or make believe TO
do so.
When the Trouville summer girl goes in
to hathe, accompanied by her mother, she
covers herself completely with her white
pink, blue or spotted. sheet, concealing even
the color of her bathing costume She only
throws it off when she gets to the water
to resume it instantly when she emerges
These are the big, unmarried girls whose
mothers think they ought not to mingle
with the world. When they are married
they may battle at will in the mixed
square and even swim courageously up to
the ropes dividing the exclusively mems
square, with it's abbreviated costumes from
the mixed; or they may keep on, if more
shrinkingly inclined, to court the opera
glasses in the ladies' beach. and even hide
their bushes out behind a bathing wagon.
1t must be admitted that the summer girl
at Dieppe is mostly married. Her husband
runs down once week from Paris, on the
special husbands train"
Dieppe is q French provincial city with
its own population of over 10000. Except
that it is situated on the sea and in a lit
tie valley. between two ranges of lofty
q T1 ~fNtl the, ho,1,
ing from the wind and force the season
earlier than elsewhere. its appearance is
the same as that of any town in the in
terror. In its relations to the sea Dieppe
carries on a great provision trade with
England and timber trade with Norway.
Fish is, however, the staple commodity"
and the fishermen of Dieppe give color,
character and odor to all that part of the
beach which is not within the marine
promenade"
Which simply means that Dieppe has its
own life, all connected with casinos, sea-
baths and hotels. The greater part of the
beach between the chalk cliffs is in actual
use for business purposes by the denizens
of Dieppe. The marine promenade, clean,
bright and gay, adorned with its glittering
casino. the variegated toilettes of Paris
:ennes and the whites, pinks, blues and
grays of peignoirs and bathing tights is
scarcely two-thrds of mile long. In the
front you have the sea, behind there is a
bistered, shadeless stretch of sand and
chalk-clay promenade 1anked by hotels.
With a beach both small and baking hot,
with a quaint old-world town behind it.
where In narrow streets the cafes flourish
cool and cozy, and with a countryside to
right and left with orchards on the cliffs
you may well believe that the mere sitting
by the sea is a small part of Dieppe sum-
mer life No one is dependent on the great
hotels, which are mere sleeping places.
Two other characteristics of Dieppe detract
from any large and obvious public social
life; the English visitors and the French
chateau habit.
There is something peculiar to Dieppe in
the presence of the English. At the Hotel
- (where they charge you fifteen francs
for an order of lobster PAmericSine), the
English language hourishes like the green
bay tree. A French family lounging over
breakfast see an English group sweep by
and sniff, "Oh foreigners" But they them
selves rather foreigners in this hotel,
whose servants all are English, and whose
prices all are English. They have bath
tubs, Crosse & Blackwell pickles and IL
lustrated weeklies. They give you butter
free at table, but they charge three prices
for their wine.
From Newhaven to Dieppe is the cheap
est trip across the channel, to be enjoyed
-once-and then remembered But to the
hardy islanders the little crazy steamers
that ride and mount and dip like ducks,
and rock and turn with contorted twist
are capable of giving fierce, refreshing
joy. Tie English land at Dieppe as fresh
and rosy as their ancestors who ravaged
all this coast in ancient wars. Today they
pay their way.
The English love for the Norman coast
is greater than ever. They come in shoals
The Marquis of Salisbury built a villa at
Puy: and where a marquis is. there will
be the English tourists likewise endeavor-
ing to look over his garden wall They
carry away blossoms from trees that grow
on the marquis grounds, and hang over
his hedges, and pry bricks from the NOR
tar of his walls and mark them souvenir
of Puys." Puys is pretty little bathing
place. with many a villa a mile from
Dieppe by the shore. "but may be reached