EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No. 3
Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago
THE TRAGEDY OF THE CHAIN PIER
By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
CHAPTER I.
Most visitors to Brighton prefer the new pier; it is altogether a moremagnificent affair. It is in the fashionable town, for fashion will gowestward; it is larger, more commodious, more frequented. Go to the WestPier when you will, there is always something to see; beautiful women,pretty girls, fashionable belles promenade incessantly. There are timeswhen it is crowded, and there is even a difficulty in making room forall who come. No wonder the elite of Brighton like the West Pier; it isone of the most enjoyable spots in England; every luxury and comfort isthere; a good library, plenty of newspapers, elegant little shops,excellent refreshment rooms, fine music; and then the lovely blue,dimpling sea, the little boats with their white sails, like white-wingedbirds on the water, the grand stretch of the waves, the blue skyoverhead, and the town, with its fine, tall houses shining in thesunlight, the line of white cliff and the beach where the children areat play. You go down to the wonderful jetty, which, to me, was one ofthe most mysterious and romantic of places. There the water is of thedeepest, choicest emerald green, and it washes the wonderful net-work ofpoles with a soft, lapping sound beautiful to hear. You can stand therewith only a rail between you and the green, deep water, watching thefisher-boats out on the deep; watching, perhaps, the steamer with itsload of passengers, or looking over the wide sunlit waves,dreaming—dreams born of the sea—out of the world; alone in the kingdomof fancy; there is always something weird in the presence of deep,silent, moving waters.
There is always plenty of life, gayety and fashion on the West Pier. Itis a famous place, not for love-making but for flirtation; a famousplace for studying human nature; a famous place for passing a pleasanthour. You may often meet great celebrities on the West Pier; facesfamiliar at the House of Lords, familiar at Court, familiar at theopera, are to be seen there during the season; beautiful faces that havegrown pale and worn with the excitement of a London campaign, and here,as they are bent thoughtfully over the green waters, the bracing airbrings sweet roses, the lines fade, the eyes brighten; there is no suchbeautifier as a sea breeze, no bloom so radiant and charming as thatbrought by the wind from the sea.
On the West Pier you will find all the beauty, rank and fashion ofBrighton; you will see costumes a ravir, dresses that are artistic andelegant; you will see faces beautiful and well-known; you will hear acharming ripple of conversation; you will witness many pleasant andpiquant adventures; but if you want to dream; if you want to give upyour whole heart and soul to the poetry of the sea; if you want tolisten to its voice and hear no other; if you want to shut yourself awayfrom the world; if you want to hear the music of the winds, theirwhispers, their lullabies, their mad dashes, their frantic rages, youmust go to the Old Chain Pier. As a rule you will find few there, butyou may know they are a special few; you will see the grave, quiet faceof the thinker, who has chosen that spot because he does not want to bedisturbed by the frou-frou of ladies' dresses, or the music of theirhappy voices; he wants to be alone with the sea and the wind.
It often happens that you find a pair of very happy lovers there—theygo to the side and lean over the r