Early one morning last week a fishing smack trailed by a rowboat routine indications of a channel swimmerappeared in St. Margaret's Bay, England. As they crept toward shore a little Frenchman, perhaps the swimmer's trainer, was seen gesticulating in the bow of the rowboat. He seemed afraid that his aspirant would fail in the last 200 yards and kept shouting, "Think of your mother. Think of your father. Think of your wife." The man in the water, who was thinking of a double whisky, swam sturdily on.
Pale-skinned and obviously overweight, a huge mealy fellow whose labored breathing spoke of too many...
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