CHILDREN BY THE SEA.
AMONG the varied pleasures designed for visitors at New Ostend, the latest model seaside town, there is -no attempt to organise the amusements of children by the sea. This is as it should be, because they have their own views as to how to spend their time there, and understand how to do so far better than any one else. They know by instinct where to go, and they lose no time about it. "After tea we went down to the beach." That is the formula of a thousand children's letters from the seaside. " The beach" is the one object which occupies their thoughts. To it they migrate at once, like young wild ducks to the water, and view their property before entering into possession. Serene and careless, like little princes and princesses, they survey their inheritance, and return to dream of the coming hours in that enchanted playground where the sea is their playfellow and the ocean-tide their servant, which comes every night and washes out their footprints, and tidies up after them, without a word of grudging or grumbling, and cleans up the beach for them to play on again to-morrow. And yet it is a serious task before them,—one not to be too lightly entered on nor attempted unequipped. They are no conscious triflers, like "grown-ups" by the sea. They have none of the frivolity of age. In all too brief a time they have to develop the new country, to fortify its shores, dig its canals, explore its minerals, prospect for its jewels, capture its fish, collect its flowers, and, if greatly favoured, even make roads down its cliffs, and tap the fountains of fresh water which flow from their feet. " Life is real, life is earnest," for them, the children by the sea. These activities are unalter- able, and the equipment for them fixed by immutable custom. The wooden spade—of beech-wood—dates, it is believed, from the most remote and early days, when the " seaside " was only the playground of the happy few. Rumour says that it was first made for children on the Norfolk coast, and was fashioned after the model of the malt-shovels used in the maltings for which the Norfolk coast is so justly famed. It needed little imagination to transfer their use from heaping up the golden malt to scooping and piling the yellow Norfolk sand. The second indispensable equipment is a pail, of which, as all children know, there are two kinds,—the tin pail, of galvanised iron, a modern and discredited invention, and the wooden bucket, bound with hoops, painted blue or red outside and a. beautiful pink within. This is the true and original " pail." Its pink inside, half-filled with sea-water, shows off shells and pebbles a merveille, and when the paint and varnish are new it has a most delicious smell. Sand- shoes—to little girls at least—lend completeness to the enjoyment of the beach. They are in a sense a mark of liberty, of freedom from the shackles of a too-tedious and tiresome etiquette of the toilet, and a guarantee that they are to have a free hand in the weeks to come, and can give a wide offing to convention.
The seriousness of children in the first hours ty the sea has led to some doubt as to whether they feel the exhilaration common to " grown-ups " at reaching its shores. There is no doubt that they do ; the space, the light and smell of the sea excite them; but this exultation is held in check by the instant realisation of the activities which are expected of, and die from, them. To use the common term, they " do not know where to begin," though when a beginning is once made the rest follows as if set by the card.
Though all " beaches" are delightful, some are far more delightful, various, and enjoyable than others. Tiny children are somewhat daunted byithe length and immensity of coast- line. It is so much bigger than a garden—so infinitely more vast even than a park. Then the sea looks so " high up." This is a common remark ; and they begin to feel that it creeps into the clouds, and may get above their heads sky- wards. For such children a beach divided by breakwaters and groins is the most inviting. It gives them a sense of security and possession, and they will paddle and dig happily enough near to the friendly shelter of the piles. The material of the beach itself is of some importance. Sand is the best all-round playground, but as not all snow makes snowballs, so not all sand is good to dig and build in. It must be some- what damp, and permeated by salt and water until it "binds."
Then it becomes the great and reliable material for the con- struction of fortresses, caves, cities, churches, docks, and railways in the children's dominions. Against these the tide wages incessant war ; yet such is the spirit of their founders that they even eeek new contests, and prefer to build in the face of the advancing tide, than to win a hollow triumph by digging dykes behind the retreating ebb. It has been noticed, as a proof of the earnestness of children when engaged in works of construction in the sand, that, contrary to their usual habit when at play, they invite and encourage the aid of their elders in the task. In this they are severely practical, being quite aware that the "grown-up" does the work better, and digs deeper than they can, and are will. ing to employ his services, unpaid. At one of the southern watering-places a speculative beachman has "organised" the children when thus seriously disposed. He inclosee a small space of the beach, and therein for a small fee sets them to work on elaborate sand fortifications, which he aids and directs himself, to the perfect satisfaction and content of a large number of daily clients. It is a corvee des enfants, but one in which the labourers are not only volunteers, but pay an entrance-fee.
The beaches with three zones of shingle, sand, and half- submerged rocks, backed, if possible, by cliffs, are the per- fect paradise of the seaside child; and little short of this
is the sandy beach with lagoons filled and emptied by the ebb and flow of the tide. In the former are comprised nearly all the possible joys of the " collecting " child ; in the latter bathing, paddling, and shrimping reach their acme, and to these is superadded " treading " fiat-fish, and the absorbing interest of stocking an aquarium.
The fringe of the pebble-bank appeals most to the imaginative child. It is the mine of rough gems, the pearl reef, the amber bed, a very storehouse of treasure. Camelians, red and white, wet and shining, agates and moss•agates, and all the tribe of shells, "silver nuns " for white pearls, " blackamoors' teeth" for black pearls, rosy cockles for pink pearls, may be had for the seeking to stock the jewel-boxes of good little girls by the sea. But no one can work without eating, and for meal-times there are the rook-kitchens, with their ranges ready for cook- ing. The drip of the spray and the rolling of the pebbles cuts out the sea-saucepans on the top of the flat boulders, and pudding-basins innumerable. Pounded chalk and sea- water make the milk, green seaweed the lobster salad, and for tea there are real sea-eggs and shrimps and periwinkles, and limpets to represent those mysterious "shell-fish" which form the first week's provender for all orthodox castaways upon dear desolate islands. To the delights of imagination the joys of realism succeed without a break,—the triumphs and also the bitter disappointments of the marine aquarium. This was once the pursuit of elder sisters, who took to it seriously and scientifically, inspired in the first place by Charles Kingsley, and later by the Rev. J. G. Wood. Those were the days when Tommy would spin his humming-top on the big glass tank, or ate the red sea-anemone thinking it was a plum. Now the aquarium is out of fashion except with the children, with whom fashion knows no change. For them all the common objects of the sea-shore have a certain and fixed value as stock for the collection. " Live shells " are precious, and sea-anemones are esteemed, though the prettiest, the "crassicornuses," always will die, or else turn inside out,—the anemone's way of showing sulks and indifference to kind treatment. But "little fish" are the real prizes of the show, and their capture the most exciting sport known to children. This is the real use and purpose of " lagoons " on sandy shores. There the joy of paddling (ever so much better than bathing) and the sport of " treading" flat-fish can be combined. There a row of dainty ten-year-old feet may be seen cautiously feel- ing the bottom, till the thrilling wriggle of a two-inch flounder elicits shrieks and confusion from the field of short-skirted collectors, while the lucky finder, with mingled fortitude and horror, keeps her foot firmly set till the monster is drawn from beneath her sole and transferred to the wet sea-weed of the collecting pail. Among such serious pursuits mere bathing is perhaps regarded as a waste of time, unless accompanied by incidents which make it a pleasure rather than a duty. Yet such do occur on the enchanted playground. It is not long since a family of children were seen who had a real pony which bathed with them, and after swimming in the sea would roll on the sand and dry itself, " just like a person." Those children were the envied of all their fellows on the shore. Some of them even got a donkey to come down and bathe with them in humble imitation. But the donkey drew the line at that and would not play.
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