ing the god
of the ocean, in a car drawn by four sea-horses, surrounded by
nymphs, and tritons, and dolphins. The sea-horses and the dolphins
were to spout a quantity of water out of their nostrils. But when
all was completed, it was found that there was hardly water enough
to supply the nose of a single dolphin. So that when the fountain
began to play it looked for all the world as if the sea-horses and
the dolphins had all taken a miserable cold, and were put to great
shame there in the public place by reason of this dropping rheum. As
this was too ridiculous for even the Abderites to endure, they
removed the whole group into the temple of Neptune; and now, as
often as it is shown to a foreigner, the custodian, in the name of
the worthy town of Abdera, bitterly laments that so glorious a work
of art should have been rendered useless _by the parsimony of
Nature_."

In like manner, our good _Brightonians_ lately got possessed of the
notion that their sea-beaten town ought no longer to be without its
fountain. They accordingly procured, not an artist from Athens, but
a tall iron machine from Birmingham, tall as their houses, and much
resembling in form one candlestick put upon another. This they
placed in the choicest site their town afforded. Its ugliness was of
no importance, as it was to be hidden underneath the graceful and
ample flow of water. But when this water-spouting instrument was
erected, it was found here too that no water was to be had--no
natural and gratuitous supply. And now when the stranger wonders at
this tall disfigurement, and inquires into its meaning, he is told
how the spirited efforts of the Brightonians to adorn their town
have been rendered fruitless _by the parsimony of water-companies_.
Once a week, however, his cicerone will advertise him--once every
week and for two hours together--the fountain is _let off_ to the
sound of music, and the people are gathered together to see it
play--or rather, he might add, to _weep_--for even at these moments
it feels the effect of the same cruel spirit of parsimony.

Our countrymen had better leave fountains alone. The introduction of
them into London is nothing but a thoughtless imitation of what can
only be a pleasing and natural ornament in a quite different
climate. Who cares to see water spirting in the fog