ilent, moving waters.

There is always plenty of life, gayety and fashion on the West Pier. It
is a famous place, not for love-making but for flirtation; a famous
place for studying human nature; a famous place for passing a pleasant
hour. You may often meet great celebrities on the West Pier; faces
familiar at the House of Lords, familiar at Court, familiar at the
opera, are to be seen there during the season; beautiful faces that have
grown pale and worn with the excitement of a London campaign, and here,
as they are bent thoughtfully over the green waters, the bracing air
brings sweet roses, the lines fade, the eyes brighten; there is no such
beautifier as a sea breeze, no bloom so radiant and charming as that
brought by the wind from the sea.

On the West Pier you will find all the beauty, rank and fashion of
Brighton; you will see costumes a ravir, dresses that are artistic and
elegant; you will see faces beautiful and well-known; you will hear a
charming ripple of conversation; you will witness many pleasant and
piquant adventures; but if you want to dream; if you want to give up
your whole heart and soul to the poetry of the sea; if you want to
listen to its voice and hear no other; if you want to shut yourself away
from the world; if you want to hear the music of the winds, their
whispers, their lullabies, their mad dashes, their frantic rages, you
must go to the Old Chain Pier. As a rule you will find few there, but
you may know they are a special few; you will see the grave, quiet face
of the thinker, who has chosen that spot because he does not want to be
disturbed by the frou-frou of ladies' dresses, or the music of their
happy voices; he wants to be alone with the sea and the wind.

It often happens that you find a pair of very happy lovers there--they
go to the side and lean over the railing as though their sole object in
life was to watch the rippling sea. Do not believe them, for you will
hear the murmur of two voices, and the theme is always "love." If you go
near them they look shyly at you, and in a few minutes move gently away.
Ah, happy lovers, make hay while the sun shines; it does not shine
always, even over the Chain Pier.

If you want to watch the waves, to hear their rolling music, if you want
to see the seagulls whirl in the blue ether, if you want to think, to
read, to be alone, to fill your mind with beautiful thoughts, go to the
Chain Pier at Brighton.

There is a jetty--an old-fashion