ensils, and what we would be
expected to take with us.

I found Eastnor all right as regards sand; the very streets were full of
it, and as I stood on the Esplanade at low tide, and leaned up against a
strong south-west breeze, and saw the dry sand sweeping like smoke along
the flats and piling knee-deep to windward of the groins, and got my
mouth and eyes and ears full of it, I decided, from the taste and smell
and feel of it, that--from a sand point of view, at all events--Eastnor
would do.

Now to find a lodgment for the night, and then to prowl round for a
house.

I struck a neat little confectioner's for tea, and, following a plan
which had acted well on previous occasions, asked, as I was paying for
it, if they could accommodate me for the night.

Well, they had rooms, but they were let for the following week--being
regatta week--and, yes, said the stout lady behind the counter, she
thought she had better not take me; but the "Balaclava Inn," next door,
put up beds--I had better try there.

Yes, at the "Balaclava" they put up beds, and they showed me to a room.
"But if I should get a good let to-morrow--lots of folks come down on
Sunday to stop for regatta," said the hostess--"I shall have to turn you
out; but maybe I can find you a bedroom nigh handy."

This just to show the extreme independence of the aborigines.

Then I turned out to find the desirable seaside residence with the
maximum of accommodation and comfort at the minimum of cost.

I rooted round till I struck the chief estate agent--who was also the
chief grocer--of the town.

His shop was full, and trade was evidently booming.

I stood behind a triple row of clamorous lady visitors, who were
ordering everything under the sun in the grocery line, and complaining
vehemently to the badgered shop-men that their last orders had all been
very inadequately fulfilled. I waited patiently till the mob, having
apparently bought up the whole shop, thinned out, and a dapper
London-trained young shopman smoothed down his ruffled front hair and
leaned over the counter and asked, "And what can I do for you, sir?"

"I want a small furnished house," I said, meekly.

"Ah," he said, with a grin, "I'm afraid we are out of them at present;
I'll ask Mr. Wilson."

"Small furnished house for August?" echoed Mr. Wilson, in aggrieved
amazement. "Not such a thing to be had in Eastnor. All let a month ago.
You should come in May or June to get a house for August."