Fish, Esq., with the assistance of a lifebuoy, nearly learned to
swim while we were down there; but the Doctor-in-Law thought that
hiring bathing machines was a foolish waste of money, and contented
himself with taking off his shoes and stockings and paddling, which he
could do without having to pay. One day, however, he was knocked
completely over by an incoming wave, and got wet to the skin.

We could never persuade the Rhymester either, to go out further than
just to his knees; but I rather fancy that that was because he was
afraid of wetting his bathing costume, of which he was particularly
proud, and which was decorated with smart little bows of ribbon
wherever they could be conveniently put.

Fear may have had something to do with it though, for I noticed that
he always clung very tightly to the rope, and never by any chance went
beyond its length.

The switchback railway was a source of infinite amusement, and a great
deal of time was spent on it. Boating was not much indulged in, as it
made one or two of the party, particularly A. Fish, Esq., very ill;
but we all enjoyed the beautiful drives in the neighbourhood. There
was an excellent Punch and Judy show in the town too, which so
fascinated his Majesty that we could scarcely tear him away whenever
he joined the admiring crowd which daily surrounded it.

The fickle One-and-Nine, while we were here, fell in love with a wax
figure exhibited in a hair-dresser's window in Sandgate Road. It
represented a beautiful lady with her hair dressed in the latest
fashion, and the wooden soldier was greatly infatuated. He spent
hours gazing through the window, watching the lady slowly revolve by
clockwork; and he became frightfully jealous of the hair-dresser, whom
he caught one morning rearranging the drapery around the lady's
shoulders.

Eventually, with the assistance of the Rhymester, he composed the
following piece of poetry--which he stuck, by means of six gelatine
sweets, on to the hair-dresser's window with the writing inside, in
order that the lady might see it.

TO THE BEAUTIFUL LADY IN THE HAIRDRESSER'S WINDOW.

I love you, oh! I love you,
And I beg you to be mine;
I'm a gallant wooden soldier,
And my name is 1/9.

If you will only marry me,
'Twill be the greatest fun
To puzzle folks by telling them,
That we're both 2/1.

'Twill be the truth, for man and wife
Are one, I beg to state,
This fact's a