the naked eye, I should say yon great staring-looking shop directly opposite us is the cock inn of the place (looks through his glass).  I’m right P-i-e-r, Pier ’Otel I reads upon the top, and that’s no shop for my money.  Let’s see what else we have.  There’s nothing on the right, I think, but here on the left is something like our cut—­D-o-l dol, p-h-i-n phin, Dolphin Inn.  It’s long since I went the circuit, as the commercial gentlemen (or what were called bagmen in my days) term it, but I haven’t forgot the experience I gained in my travels, and I whiles turn it to werry good account now.

“Coach to Canterbury, Deal, Margate, sir, going directly,” interrupted him, and reminded us that we had got to the end of the pier, and ought to be descending.  Two or three coaches were drawn up, waiting to carry passengers on, but we had got to our journey’s end.  “Now,” said J——­, “let’s take our bags in hand and draw up wind, trying the ‘Dolphin’ first.”

Rejecting the noble portals of the Pier Hotel, we advanced towards Jorrocks’s chosen house, a plain unpretending-looking place facing the sea, which is half the battle, and being but just finished had every chance of cleanliness.  “Jonathan Acres” appeared above the door as the name of the landlord, and a little square-built, hatless, short-haired chap, in a shooting-jacket, was leaning against the door.  “Mr. Hacres within?” said Jorrocks.  “My name’s Acres,” said he of the shooting-jacket.  “Humph,” said J——­, looking him over, “not Long Acre, I think.”  Having selected a couple of good airy bedrooms, we proceeded to see about dinner.  “Mr. Hacres,” said Jorrocks, “I makes it a rule never to pay more than two and sixpence for a feed, so now just give us as good a one as you possibly can for that money”:  and about seven o’clock we sat down to lamb-chops, ducks, French beans, pudding, etc.; shortly after which Jorrocks retired to rest, to sleep off the remainder of his headache.  He was up long before me the next morning, and had a dip in the sea before I came down.  “Upon my word,” said he, as I entered the room, and found him looking as lively and fresh as a four-year-old, “it’s worth while going to the lush-crib occasionally, if it’s only for the pleasure of feeling so hearty and fresh as one does on the second day.  I feel just as if I could jump out of my skin, but I will defer the performance until after breakfast.  I have ordered a fork one, do you know, cold ’am and boiled bacon, with no end of eggs, and bread of every possible description.  By the way, I’ve scraped acquaintance with Thorp, the baker hard by, who’s a right good fellow, and says he will give me some shooting, and has some werry nice beagles wot he shoots to.  But here’s the grub.  Cold ’am in abundance.  But, waiter, you should put a little green garnishing to the dishes, I likes to see it, green is so werry refreshing to the eye; and tell Mr. Hacres to send up some more bacon and the bill, when I rings the bell.  Nothing like having your bill the first morning, and then you know what you’ve got to pay, and can cut your coat according to your cloth.”  The bacon soon disappeared, and the bell being sounded, produced the order.