Nothing happened, and we walked our last mile with sound wind and limbs.
Much of the way lay on a hill-side. Cottages were built on the slopes,
and we walked upon zigzag paths, through front gardens and back gardens,
now level with the ground floor window, now looking into an attic; and
now--if we wished--able to peer down the chimney or join the cats oh the
roof.

At last we came to the sea, which stretched away in all its beauty,
shining and shimmering in the sunshine. In the bay formed by this and
the opposite coast, the boats taking part in the races were flitting
about like white-winged messengers, full of life and grace and buoyancy.
Some of the races were over, some were in progress.

Our side of the shore was beautifully backed by green slopes rising to
wooded heights. In the select inclosure, for the privilege of entering
which a franc was charged, the élite of Morlaix walked to and fro, or
sat upon long rows of chairs placed just above the beach. We did not
think very much of them and were disappointed. All round and about us,
rich and poor alike were clothed in modern-day costumes, as ugly and
ungainly and ill-worn as any that we see around us in our own fair,
but--in this respect--by no means faultless isle.

The few costumes that formed the exception were not graceful; those at
least worn by the men. Umbrellas were in full array, and as there was no
rain they put them up for the sunshine. A large proportion of the crowd
took no interest whatever in the races, which attracted attention and
applause only from those either sitting or standing on the beach. The
crowded green behind gave its attention to anything rather than the sea
and the boats. More general interest was manifested in the sculling
matches; especially in the race of the fish-women--tall, strong females,