AT THE BEACH. (2)

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The Park children went to the beach last summer. It was a small beach; not at all like Nantasket Beach.

There were not many folks there. There was a young woman—a very queer young woman indeed, Sam thought. She used to go out on the beach and sit in a camp chair and read!

“Pshaw! who wants to read with a whole ocean to look at?” said Sam.

A young woman sitting in a deckchair

THE YOUNG WOMAN.

Such cunning little slippers as she wore! and her ruffles and hat! Oh, my! She used to draw pictures sometimes, but Sam didn’t know that. “Halloo! there she is again!” shouted Sam one day. She was drawing a picture of them that moment, but they did not know it. They were all sliding down the sand cliff.

They had taken off their shoes and stockings, and were going in bathing.

“Whoo-oop! hurrah! here we come! clear the track!” What a noise they did make, to be sure!

But it did not disturb anybody. Nobody heard it but the young woman and some cows in the pasture near by.

How warm and soft the sand was! It was as good as coasting in winter. It was better!

Children sliding down a sand dune

THE PICTURE THE YOUNG WOMAN DREW.

Down they went into the water like so many ducks. They can all dive and swim almost as well as ducks. Papa and mamma were off shore, taking a sail together. They saw the slide down hill, and the plunge into the water. They saw the brown and yellow heads bobbing about.

“Do look at them!” said mamma. “Perfect little Arabs!”

“Do ’em good,” said papa. “Little Molly never had such rosy cheeks in all her life.”

“But think of their clothes!” said mamma.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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