dresses, wet and clinging, walking in the streets of
the town, and he would read notices posted up by the
camp-meeting authorities forbidding women so clad
to come upon the tabernacle ground. He would
also read placards along the beach explaining the reason
why decency in bathing suits is desirable, and he
would wonder why such notices should be necessary.
If, however, he walked along the shore at bathing times
he might be enlightened, and he would see besides
a certain simplicity of social life which sophisticated
Europe has no parallel for. A peculiar custom
here is sand-burrowing. To lie in the warm sand,
which accommodates itself to any position of the body,
and listen to the dash of the waves, is a dreamy and
delightful way of spending a summer day. The
beach for miles is strewn with these sand-burrowers
in groups of two or three or half a dozen, or single
figures laid out like the effigies of Crusaders.
One encounters these groups sprawling in all attitudes,
and frequently asleep in their promiscuous beds.
The foreigner is forced to see all this, because it
is a public exhibition. A couple in bathing suits
take a dip together in the sea, and then lie down in
the sand. The artist proposed to make a sketch
of one of these primitive couples, but it was impossible
to do so, because they lay in a trench which they had
scooped in the sand two feet deep, and had hoisted
an umbrella over their heads. The position was
novel and artistic, but beyond the reach of the artist.
It was a great pity, because art is never more agreeable
than when it concerns itself with domestic life.
While this charming spectacle was exhibited at the
beach, afternoon service was going on in the tabernacle,
and King sought that in preference. The vast
audience under the canopy directed its eyes to a man
on the platform, who was violently gesticulating and
shouting at the top of his voice. King, fresh
from the scenes of the beach, listened a long time,
expecting to hear some close counsel on the conduct
of life, but he heard nothing except the vaguest emotional
exhortation. By this the audience were apparently
unmoved, for it was only when the preacher paused
to get his breath on some word on which he could dwell
by reason of its vowels, like w-o-r-l-d or a-n-d,
that he awoke any response from his hearers.
The spiritual exercise of prayer which followed was
even more of a physical demonstration, and it aroused
more response. The officiating minister, kneeling
at the desk, gesticulated furiously, doubled up his
fists and shook them on high, stretched out both arms,
and pounded the pulpit. Among people of his own
race King had never before seen anything like this,
and he went away a sadder if not a wiser man, having
at least learned one lesson of charity—never
again to speak lightly of a negro religious meeting.
This vast city of the sea has many charms, and is
the resort of thousands of people, who find here health
and repose. But King, who was immensely interested
in it all as one phase of American summer life, was
glad that Irene was not at Ocean Grove.