the very picture of health and vigour, becomingly dressed in caps and
short blue petticoats, who started in a pair of eight-oared boats, and
rowed valiantly in a very well-matched contest until it was lost and
won. As the sixteen women, victors and vanquished, stepped ashore, the
phlegmatic crowd was stirred in its emotions, and loud applause greeted
them. They filed away, laughing and shaking their heads, or looking down
modestly and smoothing their aprons, each according to her temperament,
and were soon lost in the crowd.

On the slopes in sheltered spots, vendors of different wares, chiefly of
a refreshing description, had installed themselves. The most popular and
the most picturesque were the pancake women, who, on their knees, beat
up the batter, held the frying pans over a charcoal fire, and tossed the
pancakes with a skill worthy of Madame Hellard's chef. Their services
were in full force, and it was certainly not a graceful exhibition to
see the Breton boys and girls, of any age from ten to twenty, devouring
these no doubt delicious delicacies with no other assistance than their
own fairy fingers. After all, they were enjoying themselves in their own
fashion and looked as if they could imagine no greater happiness in
life.

We wandered away from the scene, round the point, where stretched
another portion of the coast of Finistère. It was a lovely vision. The
steep cliffs fell away at our feet to the beach, here quite deserted and
out of sight of the crowd not very far off. Over the white sand rolled
and swished the pale green water with most soothing sound. The sun shone
and sparkled upon the surface. The bay was wide, and on the opposite
coast rose the cliffs crowned by the little town of Roscoff, its grey
towers sharply outlined against the sky. Our thoughts immediately went
back to the day we had spent there; to the quiet streets of St. Pol de