272 ALONGSHORE v 



asked Jim, not a little shocked when the chamber- 

 maid entered the room while we were half-stripped 

 for washing, and requested us, as usual, to write 

 down on two little slips of paper our birthplace, 

 profession, and so forth, for the benefit of the 

 police. I explained to him that French and 

 English mock-modesties differ. But how explain 

 ourselves to the police? At the moment I could 

 not remember whether pcchcur meant a fisherman 

 and pcchcur a sinner, or the other way round; and 

 besides, I thought, if the Boulonnais look down on 

 fishermen as Devon tradespeople do, we may — as 

 common, low fishermen — be requested to move on. 

 Also there were my wretched spectacles. Not 

 one fisherman in a thousand wears spectacles. But 

 how else describe ourselves? I had had some 

 experience in Paris of the suspiciousness of the 

 French police. There was no knowing what 

 scrapes wx might get into. The newspapers at 

 that time were very full of a spy scare, and 

 Boulogne is a garrison town with an arsenal. We 

 could not deny that we were a rather extraordinary 

 pair. The one, Jim, was dressed in a full fisher- 

 man's rig, his sole concession to travel being a 

 starched collar, which was completely hidden 

 beneath his jersey, and only made him appear to 



