15 SEPTEMBER 1860, Page 13

Boon's LETTER TO A CRTLD.—My dear Jeanie—So you are at

Sand- gate ! Of course, wishing for your old play-fellow, M— he can play,—it's work to me) to help you to make little puddles in the sand and swing on the gate. But perhaps there are no sand and gate at Sand- gate, which, in that ease, nominally tells us a fib. But there must be little crabs somewhere, which you can catch, if you are nimble enough ; so like spiders, I wonder they do not make webs. The large crabs are scarcer. If you do catch ft big one with strong claws—and like experiments—you can shut him up in a cupboard with a loaf of sugar, and you can see whether he will break it up with his nippers. Besides crabs, I used to find jelly-fish on the beach, made, it seemed to me, of sea-calves' feet, and no sherry-. The mermaids eat them, I suppose, at their wet water parties, or salt soirees. There were star-fish also, but they did not shine till they were stinking, and so made very uncelestial constellations. I suppose you never gather any sea-flowers, but only sea-weeds. The truth is Mr. David Jones never rises (rein his bed, and so has a garden full of weeds, like Dr. Watt's "Sluggard." Oysters are as bad, for they never leave their beds willingly, though they get oceans of "cold pig." At some seaside. you may pick up shells, but I have been told that at Sandgato there are no shells, except those with passive green peas and lively maggots. I have heard that you bathe in the sea, which is very refreshing, but it requires care ; for if you stay under water too long, you may come up a mermaid, who is only half a lady, with a fish's tail,—which she can boil if she likes. You had better try this with your doll, whether it turns her into half a "doll-tin." I hope you like the sea. I always did when I was a child, which was about two years ago. Sometimes it makes such a fizzing and foaming, I wonder some of our London cheats do not bottle it up, and sell it for ginger-pop. When the sea is too rough, if you pour the sweet-oil out of the cruet, all over it, and wait for a calm, it will be quite smooth,—much smoother than a dressed salad. Some time ago exactly, there used to be, about the part of the coast where you are, large white birds with blacked tipped wings, that went flying and screaming over the sea, and now and then plunged down into the water after a fish. Perhaps they catch their sprats now with nets or hooks and lines. Do you ever see such birds ? We used to call them "gulls,"—. but they didn't mind it ! Do you ever see any boats or vessels ? And don't you wish, when you see a ship, that somebody was a sea captain instead of a doctor, that he might bring you home a pet lion, or calf elephant, ever so many parrots, or a monkey, from foreign parts ? I knew a little girl who was promised a baby whale by her sailor "nether, and who blubbered be- cause he did not bring it. I suppose there are no whales at Sandgate, but you might find a seal about the beach : or, at least, a stone for one. The sea stones are not pretty when they are dry, but look beautiful when they are wet, and we can always keep sucking them ! If you can find one, pray pick me up a pebble for a seal. I prefer the red sort, like Mrs. Jenkins 's brooch and car-ring,s, which she calls "red chamelion." Well, how happy you must be ! Childhood is such a joyous, merry time ; and I often what I was two or three children ! But I suppose I can't be ; or else I would be Jeanie, and May, and Dunny Elliot. And wouldn't I pull off my three pairs of shoes and socks, and go paddling in the sea up to my six knees ! And oh how I could climb up the down., and roll down the ups on my three backs and stomachs! Capital sport, only it wears out the woollens. Which reminds me of the sheep on the downs, and little May, so innocent ; I daresav, she often crawls about on all fours, and tries to eat grass like a lamb. Crass isn't nasty; at least, not very, if you take care, while you are browsing, not to chump up the dandelions. They are large, yellow star- flowers, and often grow about dairy farms, but give very bad milk ! When I can buy a telescope powerful enough, I shall have a peep at you. I am told, with a good glass, you can see the sea at such a distance that the sea. cannot see you! Now I must say good bye, for my paper gets short, hut not stouter. Pray give my love to your Ma, and my compliments to mut., H— and no mistake, and remember me, my dear Jeanie, as your affec- tionate friend.—Hemorials of Thomas Hood.