I am writing this paper for the sake of those who have only a very few days for a holiday, and like to make the most of it in the way of thorough change.  If you select Havre as your head-quarters for Trouville, Cabourg, and Dives, you must be a good sailor, as you can only reach these places by sea; and three-quarters of an hour bad passage there, with the prospect of three-quarters of an hour worse passage back at some inconvenient hour of the evening, destroys all chance of enjoyment.  If you’re not a good sailor, remain on the Havre side of the Seine, and there’s plenty to be seen there to occupy you from Saturday afternoon till Wednesday evening, when The Wolf (what a name!) makes its return voyage to Southampton.

If the sea at Dives, in 1066 A.D., had been anything like what it was at Havre the other day, when I wanted to cross over to Dives, WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR would never have sailed from that place for the invasion of England.  Dull as he might have found Dives, yet I am sure the Conquering Hero would have preferred returning to Paris, to risking the discomfort of the crossing.  By the way, the appropriate station in Paris for Dives would be Saint-Lazaire.

Then there are Honfleur, and Harfleur, and most people know Ste. Adresse and Etretat.  The views and the drives are not equal to those about Ilfracombe and Lynton, and Etretat itself is only a rather inferior kind of Lynmouth.  Those who want bracing won’t select either Ste. Adresse or Etretat or Havre for a prolonged stay.  Taking for granted the short-holiday-maker will visit all these places, let me give him a hint for one day’s enjoyment, for which, I fancy, I shall earn his eternal gratitude.  Order a carriage with two horses at Havre, start at nine or 9’30, and drive to Etretat by way of Marviliers.  Stop at the Hotel de Vieux Plats at Gonneville for breakfast.  Never will you have seen a house so full of curiosities of all sorts; the walls are covered with clever sketches and paintings by more or less well-known artists, and the service of the house is carried on by M. and Mme. AUBOURG, their son and daughter, who, with the assistance of a few neat-handed Phyllises, do everything themselves for their customers, and are at once the best of cooks, sommeliers, and waiters.  So cheery, so full of life and fun, so quick, so attentive, serving you as if you were the only visitor in the place, though the little inn is as full as it can be crammed, and there are fifty persons breakfasting there at the same moment.

[Illustration:  Mademoiselle qui sait attendre.]