"
It was not long before Miss Panney began to grow tired. She was not used
to trudging through soft sand, and she had walked a good deal before she
reached the beach. She concluded, therefore, to look for a place where
she might sit down and rest, and if her friends did not show themselves
in a reasonable time she would go back to their hotel and wait for them
there; but she saw no chairs nor benches, and as for imitating the
hundreds of well-dressed people who were sitting down in the dirt,--for
to Miss Panney sand was as much dirt as any other pulverized portion of
the earth's surface,--she had never done such a thing, and she did not
intend to.
Approaching a boat which was drawn up high and dry, she seated herself
upon, or rather leaned against, its side. The bathing-master, a burly
fellow in a bathing-costume, turned to her and informed her courteously
but decidedly that she must not sit upon that boat.
"I do not see why," said Miss Panney, sharply, as she rose "for it is
not of any use in any other way, lying up here on the sand.
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