"Who built this fine stone affair?" said R----, pointing to the pea-green
promenade on our right.

"The people of Margate," said some one.

"I thought nobody in England but the king could make a _pier_," said R----.

"Come, come," cried B----, "let us be grave for a minute or two; we look
more like a parcel of boys landing than a grave and learned body."

"Youth is the time for punning," said R----.

"It is no great crime when one is older," said B----.

"That I deny," answered our wag; "it may be good in _youth_, but it is
_bad in age._"

The groan which followed this last pun of the voyage reechoed along the
shore, and it was not until we reached Howe's hotel, a sort of Bath York
House stuck in the middle of Golden Square, London, that the tumult died
away.

* * * * *


THE UNICORN.


In the physical world, some of our secrets are disappearing; and though