"Come to Beautiful Bournemouth!" entice hundreds of advertisements aimed at middle-class Britons who vacation a fortnight every summer at cheap seaside resorts. Yet, near bumptious Bournemouth, there still reside a few country gentlemen who fear God and keep their hunting powder dry as toast. When, last week, early trippers went out to Bournemouth on Good Friday to gawk at army stunt flyers somersaulting in the clouds, some of the adjacent landed gentry sat down and penned letters to the Times in which they used the word "sacrilege," underscoring it twice....
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