"J"---! r,' -, t JvifeW.
TANGOING ON THE BEACH AT CONEY ISLAND '
Mother, may I go out to swim?
Yes, my darling daughter;
Hang.your clothes on a hickory limb
But fapgonear the water.
And the New York giris are obeying the old. admonishment, with varia
tions. They don't go near the water. They put on their pretty bathing:
suits, which, of course, were never designed for use in the surf, and seek!
out a masculine partner. Then starts the tango on the beach, the latest
pastime of the "bathers" who. never bathe my, no, not in that cold ocean
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