ial duties, and I shall have
my own. Let me be a fool in peace till Graylees, then. If I _can_ be a
fool in peace!

Talking of borrowed sunshine, England seems to have borrowed an
inexhaustible supply from some more "favoured clime" this summer. I dare
say we shall have to pay for it later. I shall have to pay for my
private supply, too--but no matter.

Next to my native Cornwall, I think I prefer Devonshire; and Devonshire
is being particularly kind and hospitable, offering us her choicest
gifts.

It's said that the Earth is a host who murders all his guests. But he
certainly gives some of us, for some of the time, glorious innings
during our visit to him. I don't complain, though my stay so far has
been accompanied by a good deal of stormy weather.

I remember your once remarking that Weymouth would be a good place to
hide in, if you wanted to grow a beard or anything lingering and
unbecoming; but you wouldn't make that remark now: there are too many
pretty women in the nice, tranquil old town. Just at this season it's
far from dull, and walking along the Esplanade, while young Nick mended
a tire, I understood something of George the Third's fondness for the
place. Certainly vanity wouldn't permit you to show your nose on parade
or beach, in these times, during the beard-growing process, for there's
apparently no hour of the day when a lively scene isn't being enacted on
both: the sands thickly dotted with tents; charming girls bathing,
chubby children playing, pretty women reading novels under red parasols,
fishermen selling silver-scaled fish, boatmen soliciting custom; the
parade crowded with "trippers," soldiers and sailors; the wide road
noisy with motor-cars and motor-'buses; even the sea gay with boats of
all descriptions, and at least one big war vessel hovering in the
distance. Besides, there is the clock-tower. I don't know why I like it
so much, but I do. I have a feeling that Weymouth would be worth a visit
for the sake of that clock alone; and then there's the extraordinary
historical and geological interest, which no other watering-place has.

Burden was anxious to go over to Portland, lured there, no doubt, by the
incipient detective talent of which he boasts; but the ladies voted it
too sad a place to see, on an excursion of pleasure, and perhaps they
were right. The sort of woman who would like to go and spend a happy
afternoon staring at a lot of unfortunate wretches dressed in a pattern
of bro