Skip to main content
Hide Articles List

20 articles on this Page

F SPECIAL MEETING. --

COMMITTEE BUSINESS. --

MISS MARGARET ANN HUGHES.

[No title]

AT TENBY NEXT MONDAY.

[No title]

MR. JOHN HORDLEY'S NINETY-THIRD…

END OF THE CONTEST. --

f: LOCAL ' NOTES. .'1'-

TOWN'S EARNINGS FROM AMUSEMENTS.…

[No title]

[No title]

WHAT THE SEASIDE SEASON'S…

News
Cite
Share

WHAT THE SEASIDE SEASON'S LIKE ON OCTOBER 1. The turbulent tide of traffic which, but a short while ago, swirled from the railway-station to the sea has turned. Aforetime, the station- gates framed a view of eager, expectant faces now they seem to disclose but a collection of backs, each suggesting the drooping curve of dejection. But, still, there remains a residue of holiday- makers—people, for the most part, who either could not or would not take their recreation before. They form the rearguard of the vast army of seaside visitors, now in full retreat, and put up a good fight against the advancing foes—cold and rain. You may figure the dashing blade, released from work for a fortnight, and eager to claim his belated share of summer holidaying. There is a certain alertness in his bearing, which is probably due to the fact that the air, declining to enter into conspiracy with him, and pretend that summer is at its height, has a shrewd nip in it, which precludes the picturesque loafings beloved of the mid-season visitor. His morning he passes on the sea-front, fore- gathering with other dashing blades, and stalk- ing up and down, for the benefit of such femininity as may be about. The advent of a girls' school proves him to be a roguish fellow. The pupils, as they pass him, cast down their eyes at his audacious gallantry. As a matter of fact, he is merely seeking an outlet. This ogling of girls' schools is very different from the programme he has been out lining for himself during those hot days in the office. After dinner he is quite at a loose end, for he is of that generation who require their enter- tainment ready-made. He changes his tie and waistcoat, for lack of something better to do, and, buying a paper, spends the greater part of the afternoon in seeking some sheltered spot where the wind will allow him to read in peace. From corner to corner he ranges, testing and discarding. And then he makes quite au inci- dent of the buying of tobacco, and so returns to his boarding-house for another meal. Soon after ten ho takes one last, hopeless stroll along the sea-front, and so goes home to bed. But, if this type of visitor finds his holiday purposeless, the experience of the middle-class visitor and his family is very different. They have come for sea air, and there is almost some- thing of truculence in their expressed deter- mination to obtain all the sea air possible. Their mornings they pass in rigid patrolling of the parade. They are indefatigable seekers after "sights" in the neighbourhood, and relentlessly do they track out the scene of any historical happening in the locality, and gaze upon it rather with stolid satisfaction than with lively interest. And in the evenings they do not bend to frivolities, but produce needlework and books. But all these late visitors are indomitable, as far as the weather is concerned. When the sea runs high, and the rain whips from end to end of the empty parade, they issue forth, clad in mackintoshes, to walk along the sea-front, as though it were a duty. The most blustering of gales will not keep them indoors. They cannot withstand the force of the wind for long, and presently it whirls them round a corner into some side-street, and here they linger to gaze with dull curiosity at the shop- windows. Nothing will make them return home until the dinner-hour. And so these late visitors linger on till the seagulls come. But, gradually, their numbers diminish, and theie comes a day when the cab rattles to the station with the last genuine visitor. The wail of the wind and the "roar of the sea and the cries of the seagulls hovering over the pier-head combine to form and blend a dirge over the dead season.—Ansivas.

[No title]

"MONTAGU" SALVORS' CLAIM.

A BUMPTIOUS NAVAL OFFICER.…

WELSH NATIONAL MEMORIAL TO…

TEN FACTS ABOUT TUBERCULOSIS.

NARBERTH CARNIVAL.

[No title]