400 THE AQUARIAN NATURALIST. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 



WHITBY. 



FEW localities offer more attractions to the naturalist, 

 especially if he have a geological bias in his compo- 

 sition, than the vicinity of Whitby, and few remains 

 of monastic edifices can rival the noble ruins of 

 Whitby Abbey. 



One fine autumn morning, when zoologizing in that 

 neighbourhood, we specially remember enjoying a 

 delightful walk on the pier there, in company with 

 some pretty cousins of ours, whose conversation, 

 sparkling as the laughing sea around us, lent addi- 

 tional charms to an already charming scene. Various 

 were the legends, grave and gay, upon which we had 

 to bestow our attentive ears ; how Lady Hilda, the 

 great patron saint of that district, and the foundress 

 of the venerable Abbey which looked down upon us 

 from its elevated site upon the opposite side of the 

 bay, having, like St. Patrick of Ireland, a violent 

 detestation of snakes and other vermin, had not only 

 turned them all into stones, but wrung all their heads 

 off at one fell swoop, and causing them to be buried 

 in the neighbouring cliffs, thus enriched the locality 

 with all the " snake- stones ' (Ammonites, as unbe- 



