interested in her
two children.

There were donkeys, of course, and goats. The children knew the goat man
well and all ran to him with their mugs as soon as they heard his
peculiar whistle. They held their mugs close under the goat so that they
got their milk warm and foaming, as it was milked directly into their
mugs. The goats were quite tame--one came always straight to our tents
and lay down there till his master came. Every one wanted to feed them
with cakes and bits of sugar, but he would never let them have anything
for fear it should spoil their milk.

Another friend was the cake man, dressed all in white, with his basket
of brioches and madeleines on his head--then there were the inevitable
Africans with fezes on their heads and bundles of silks--crepes-de-chine
and ostrich feathers, that one sees at every plage. I don't think they
did much business.

The public was not all distinguished. We often wondered where the people
were who lived in the hotels (all very expensive) and villas, for, with
very rare exceptions, it was the most ordinary petite bourgeoisie that
one saw on the beach--a few Americans, a great many fourth-rate English.
They were a funny contrast to the people who came for the Concours
Hippique, and the Race Week. One saw then a great influx of
automobiles--there were balls at the Casino and many pretty,
well-dressed women, of both worlds, much en evidence. The chatelains
from the neighbouring chateaux appeared and brought their guests.

For that one week Boulogne was quite fashionable. The last Sunday of the
races was a terrible day. There was an excursion train from Paris and
two excursion steamers from England. We were on the quay when the
English boats came in and it was amusing to see the people. Some of them
had left London at six in the morning. There were all sorts and kinds,
wonderful sportsmen with large checked suits, caps and field glasses
slung over their shoulders--a great many pretty girls--generally in
white. All had bags and baskets with bathing suits and luncheon, and in
an instant they were swarming over the plage--already crowded with the
Paris excursionists. They didn't interfere with us much as we never went
to the beach on Sunday.

F. was fishing all day with some of his friends in a pilot boat. (They
brought back three hundred mackerel), had a beautiful day--the sea quite
calm and the fish rising in quantities. C. and I, with the children,
went off to the Hardelot wo