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<p>And here is Dickens, in "The Tuggses at Ramsgate" from <i>Sketches
by Boz</i>.</p>
<p>'We must leave town immediately,' said Mr. Cymon Tuggs.<br>
Everybody concurred that this was an indispensable preliminary to
being genteel. The question then arose, Where should they go?<br>
'Gravesend?' mildly suggested Mr. Joseph Tuggs. The idea was
unanimously scouted. Gravesend was <i>low</i>.<br>
'Margate?' insinuated Mrs. Tuggs. Worse and worse - nobody there,
but tradespeople.<br>
'Brighton?' Mr. Cymon Tuggs opposed an insurmountable objection.
All the coaches had been upset, in turn, within the last three
weeks; each coach had averaged two passengers killed, and six
wounded; and, in every case, the newspapers had distinctly
understood that 'no blame whatever was attributable to the
coachman.'<br>
'Ramsgate?' ejaculated Mr. Cymon, thoughtfully. To be sure; how
stupid they must have been, not to have thought of that before!
Ramsgate was just the place of all others.</p>
<p>T. S. Eliot recuperated in Margate in 1921, so it cannot have
been that low by then.<br>
</p>
<p>Jeremy<br>
</p>
<p><br>
</p>
<pre class="moz-signature" cols="72">--
Jeremy Hawthorn
Emeritus Professor
Norwegian University of Science and Technology
7491 Trondheim
Norway</pre>
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