This much I will admit. There is no deadlier drug habit than fresh air!
The first summer on our Smiling Hill-Top kind ladies used to ask me to
tea-parties and card-parties, but I could never come indoors long enough
to be anything but a trial to my partners at bridge, so now I don't even
make believe I'm a polite member of society. Of course, there are people
who carry it further than I do, and can't be quite happy except in their
bathing-suits. I'm not as bad as that. I can still enjoy the sea breezes
and the colors and the sound of the waves with my clothes on. I don't
even wear my bathing-suit to market, which is one of the customs of the
place. It is a picturesque little village; half the houses are mere
shacks, a kind of compromise between dwelling and bath-houses, everyone
being much too thrifty to pay money to the Casino when they can drip
freely on their own sitting-room floor, without the least damage to the
furnishings. Life for many consists largely of a prolonged bath and bask
on the beach, with dinner at a cafeteria and a cold bite for supper at
home or on the rocks. It is surely an easy life and yet a great deal of
earnest effort and strenuous thinking goes on, too, women's clubs, even
an "open forum," and there are many delightful people who live there all
the year for the sake of the perfect climate.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63