possible, be rocks, old timber, moss, and
brambles. There should certainly be hills and dales,--on a small
scale; and above all, there should be running water. There should be
no expanse. Jones should not be able to see all Greene's movements,
nor should Augusta always have her eye upon her sister Jane. But the
spot chosen for Mr Cheesacre's picnic at Yarmouth had none of the
virtues above described. It was on the seashore. Nothing was visible
from the site but sand and sea. There were no trees there and nothing
green;--neither was there any running water. But there was a long,
dry, flat strand; there was an old boat half turned over, under which
it was proposed to dine; and in addition to this, benches, boards,
and some amount of canvas for shelter were provided by the liberality
of Mr Cheesacre. Therefore it was called Mr Cheesacre's picnic.

But it was to be a marine picnic, and therefore the essential
attributes of other picnics were not required. The idea had come from
some boating expeditions, in which mackerel had been caught, and
during which food had been eaten, not altogether comfortably, in the
boats. Then a thought had suggested itself to Captain Bellfield that
they might land and eat their food, and his friend Mr Cheesacre had
promised his substantial aid. A lady had surmised that Ormesby sands
would be the very place for dancing in the cool of the evening. They
might "Dance on the sand," she said, "and yet no footing seen." And
so the thing had progressed, and the picnic been inaugurated.

It was Mr Cheesacre's picnic undoubtedly. Mr Cheesacre was to supply
the boats, the wine, the cigars, the music, and the carpenter's work
necessary for the turning of the old boat into a banqueting saloon.
But Mrs Greenow had promised to provide the eatables, and enjoyed as
much of the _eclat_ as the master of the festival. She had known Mr
Cheesacre now for ten days and was quite intimate with him. He was a
stout, florid man, of about forty-five, a bachelor, apparently much
attached to ladies' society, bearing no sign of age except that he
was rather bald, and that grey hairs had mixed themselves with his
whiskers, very fond of his farming, and yet somewhat ashamed of it
when he found himself in what he considered to be polite circles. And
he was, moreover, a little inclined to seek the honour which comes
from a well-filled and liberally-opened purse. He liked to give a man
a dinner and then to boast of the dinner he