ut the ground dries as soon as the pelting shower is
over. I do not find the raw, searching dampness of our Eastern seashore
resorts. Here we are said to have "dry fogs" and an ideal marine
atmosphere, but it was too cold for comfort during the March rains for
those not in robust health.

As I sit in the upper gallery and watch the throng issuing from the
dining-room, I make a nice and unerring social distinction between the
Toothpick Brigade who leave the table with the final mouthful
semi-masticated, and those who have an air of finished contentment.

The orchestra is unusually good, giving choice selections admirably
executed. I have not decided whether music at meals is a blessing or
otherwise. If sad, it seems a mockery; if gay, an interruption. For one
extremely sensitive to time and tune it is difficult to eat to slow
measures. And when the steak is tough and a galop is going on above, it
is hard to keep up.

Among the many fleeting impressions of faces and friends here, one or
two stand out clearly and indelibly--stars of the first magnitude in the
nebulae--as dear Grandma Wade from Chicago, the most attractive old lady
I ever met: eighty-three years old, with a firm step, rotund figure, and
sweet, unruffled face, crowned with the softest snow-white curls, on
which rests an artistic cap trimmed with ribbons of blue or delicate
heliotrope, and small artificial flowers to match. I have known several
interesting octogenarians, but never one that surpassed her in
loveliness, wit, and positive jollity. Her spontaneous fun is better
than the labored efforts of many a famous humorist.

She still has her ardent admirers among men as well as women, and now
and then receives an earnest proposal from some lonely old fellow.

The last of these aged lovers, when refused and relegated to the
position of a brother, urged her to reconsider this important matter,
making it a subject of prayer. But she quietly said, "I'm not going to
bother the Lord with questions I can answer myself." When choked by a
bread-crumb at table, she said to the frightened waiter, as soon as she
had regained her breath, "Never mind, if that did go down the wrong way,
a great many good things have gone down the right way this winter."

She is invariably cheerful, and when parting with her son for the winter
she said, "Well, John, I want to know before I go just what you have
left me in your will!" which little joke changed a tear into a smile.

E