The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 107: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

74 THE STEAM PACKET. coats or Taglionis after dusk;—and elderly half-pay officers of all services,—these form the component portions of ‘the company ”’ that passes the summer at Margate, and crowds upon the pier to witness the arrival of the steam-packets, ‘The visitors for a day, a few days, or a week, of course comprehend nearly all classes—save the very aristocratic one, ‘‘ whose watering places” are Cheltenham, Bath, Brighton, or Hastings. The routine of a single gentleman’s life at Margate may be thus summed up. He rises early, and takes a walk upon the jetty before breakfast, in an easy and loose kind of garb: most probably he carries a book ora spy-glass in his hand. Home to breakfast, and then back again to see the steam-vessels start for London. Walk till eleven, the mind all the time being involved. in a strange state of perplexity as to how the live-long day is to be passed away, while imagination vainly endeavours to persuade itself that time never was so well occupied or more agreeably filled up before. Home again to dress—the toilet being purposely prolonged as much as possible. Off to the Library at one, to discuss scandal and purchase little articles of fancy stationery which are not wanted; perhaps lose a few shillings in arafile. Thence for a little walk: Our lounger now passes by the baths, and chats for a quarter of an hour with the prettiest girl of the four who may be seen loitering at the doors of those establishments. He next drops in at the billiard-room, and perhaps plays a game or two, because it is an excuse for drinking brandy and soda-water. Down to the pier again at three, to see the London packets come in.. The passengers land—the interest of the scene ceases—and ‘still two mortal hours remain to dinner-time. But never mind—nothing is more pleasant than a watering-place! It is now too hot to saunter upon the cliffs— frequent walks upon the pier grow fatiguing, for even the ocean has/a sameness—(only you mustn’t say so at a watering-place)—and then our lounger wid admit in a whisper, “ that between you and me the people he knows are confounded bores.” Still those two hours are killed somehow or another—but not before our lounger has looked through ‘every hole in the jetty at the, green water beneath, counted even sea- weed that floats past, and made himself familiar with the names of all the boats lying along-side. Well—dinner-time comes; and the moments glide away pleasantly*enough till seven. . Then—out again upon the pier—must enjoy the sea-breeze in the evening—and a cigar heJps.our lounger on through a couple more hours. At nine, he has the alternatives of either proceeding to lose five shillings at a round game with his friends the Jenkinses, or else—going to bed! In nine cases out of ten the latter is resorted to ;—and at the expiration of the Gomicbooks co