e place was gay
with its Regatta, on a fine breezy day. It was one of the best managed
regattas one could see, with always something going on, and always the
requisite confusion that prevents anybody from knowing exactly what _is_
going on. However, the Rob Roy had a charming sail among the yachts as
she towed at her stern the dingey and a canoe, for the members of our
Club are ubiquitous, {287} so two of them are at Margate.

CHAPTER XXI.

Worcester--Swedish lesson--English boys--A
prophecy--Letter--Request--Reply--The 'Dolphin.'

Margate has often been abused, laughed at, and snubbed, but it has never
yet been properly described. How shall I describe Margate? It is too
difficult to do well, and it has been too often done badly to do it
again.

The men's bathing here from boats with steps, like those at Malta, is
sensible enough. Fine bold swimmers struck out well beside me in the
water while I had my morning dip from the yawl. As for the epicene
bathing--masculine women and womanish males who partake of "sea-bathing
by machinery"--separate machines, but that is all--let us ignore them.

Come rather back to France, and let us look at Her Imperial Majesty the
Empress Eugenie in the water, as we have seen her years ago.

It was at Biarritz, and one day a commotion in the town was evident, but
"What is about to happen?" we asked, being ready for any response as a
traveller ought to be.

"Her Majesty is going to bathe."

British modesty urged a quiet retreat, but French system being different,
we spectators to the number of some hundreds were ranged along the sands
in two long lines, with a narrow lane clear between, and grave Gendarmes
keeping the ranks in order.

The usual proceedings one sees at French bathing towns were all in action
round about us. Ladies dressed to the highest pitch, mingled with others
in bathing costume. Gentlemen walking quite composed and dripping wet
with ladies just come out of the sea and just going in again. Young
girls in canoes boldly paddling, and gaily upsetting the little craft,
while they swam alongside. Rafts with men and women, half-floating as
they held by the sides, and chattered and basked in the sun. All this
difficult interlude on dry-land manners was conducted with perfect
decorum, a telling lesson to Britons who bathe.

Perhaps, however, we should not like to see our Royal Family follow the
example of what came next. First there marched out of th