HARDWICKE'S SCIENCE-GOSSI P. 



22: 



shore, the rock to our left is covered with long 

 fronds of ulva, which looks very fresh as it hangs 

 down, and the seawater trickles from it and drops 

 on the sand beneath. 



We soon reach the beach again, and toil our way 

 back ; for we are a little fatigued, from stooping 

 and kneeling over rock-pools. We think of our 

 vasculum, however, which is full of marine trea- 

 sures, and are content. We also look forward to 

 the pleasure of sorting them and examining them 

 with the microscope, and of transferring them to 

 our marine aquarium in town, where, if we have 

 not the glittering, cheerful view and bright atmo- 

 sphere which we have just left, we have, at least, 

 the consolation of being able to study some of our 

 pets, and the chance of keeping some of them in 

 health. 



The morning is now somewhat far advanced, and 

 the sun begins to have great power. On the cliff 

 at the entrance of the lane are numerous Tiger 

 beetles {Cicindela campestris) ; they are very shy, 

 and the moment our shadows cross them, fly away. 

 They have a peculiar manner of running a short 

 distance, and then stopping suddenly, with head 

 erect, as if listening. They are also rather quarrel- 

 some ; for we saw one alight near its fellow and 

 chase it away, much in the same manner as spar- 

 rows when they have secured some morsel of food 

 which they wish to keep to themselves. The jaws 

 of these beetles are certainly most formidable. 



We walk back to the village, our minds yet 

 filled with beautiful visions of rock-pools smiling in 

 the sun's light. Perhaps these may be redeveloped 

 in us, when in the gloomy winter of the metropolis, 

 with great force, and t then we may hear again the 

 plash of the sea, and enjoy in imagination the 

 beautiful calm of a spring morning at the seaside. 



0. M. 



A STREET DOG. 



THERE is a narrow Westminster street, with 

 little shops and lodging-houses on either side 

 of it. It is a dirty, noisy little street, and gives 

 access to a broader, quieter one, with better houses, 

 whose faces look out into the Park and its green 

 elm-trees. Troops of children from the little street 

 play and shout in and ring the door-bells of the 

 great one. Erom the windows of one of those 

 houses I have watched the games of the children, 

 and observed them to be generally shared by an 

 ugly, smooth white dog, with a. sharp nose and a few 

 black spots. When an organ-man came to play, the 

 children danced with the dog, holding his unresist- 

 ing forepaws. If a woman from the little street 

 came through with her basket on her way to market, 

 off started the dog with barks and leaps of joy, to 

 accompany her as her guard and companion, and 



returned with her when business was over. We 

 never could make out whom the dog belonged to. 

 We met him sometimes with one person, sometimes 

 with another. All the children loved him, and the 

 grown people seemed to have a friend and posses- 

 sion in him. His name we found to be "Spot;" 

 and one day we found out poor Spot's private his- 

 tory. In the little street was a very small sweet- 

 shop, much favoured by the children of our family, 

 amongst whom it went by the name of " The Little 

 Woman's." The little woman sold haberdashery and 

 illustrated papers, besides her sweets, and during his 

 leisure hours Spot was often to be found sitting bolt 

 upright on her door-step. We used to stroke his 

 head as we passed him, but he would scarcely care 

 to recognize us. His mind was fully occupied with 

 his own friends, and kind friends they seem to have 

 been. First of all, however, came a tragedy. Some 

 cruel person half hung the poor clog, and cut his throat. 

 A kind woman and her daughter, living in the street, 

 took the dog in, sewed up his throat, nursed him care- 

 fully, and restored him to health. This seems to have 

 been the commencement of his career as the street 

 dog ; but, instead of his being homeless, the street 

 itself owned him and became his home. He slept at 

 the little sweet-shop woman's, and every day she 

 bought a piece of meat of the cat's-meat man, so 

 that Spot was sure of one meal. I have offered him 

 a bit of biscuit sometimes when I met him, but he 

 did not seem to care about eating it ; so I think he 

 was well fed. The two streets harboured no other 

 dogs, for Spot would come tearing down the whole 

 length of them, and clear out any strange dog who 

 ventured to loiter there. For years he has been a 

 loved and valued street dog. Every one seemed to 

 speak kindly to him ; and I have met him long dis - 

 tances from home, following various masters and 

 mistresses. He always looked business-like and 

 decided. At length came the new rule about the 

 dog-licenses. Of course, no one had ever paid a 

 tax for Spot — no one need claim to be his real 

 master ; but the " little woman " thought differently 

 about the license. As a street dog— an ordinary, 

 vulgar street dog — poor Spot might have become 

 the prey of the police ; so this good woman went the 

 round of the other little houses and shops, and 

 collected a little every here and there from Spot's 

 kind friends, until she had enough to pay the 

 license. So the street keeps its own dog with its 

 own license. I have left the neighbourhood now ; 

 but whenever I have lately chanced to pass the 

 little street, I have seen the familiar ugly form of 

 Spot sitting serenely amid a group of children. 



Y. S. W. 



Rich Men. — He is the richest man who knows 

 how to draw a benefit from the labours of the 

 greatest number of men. — Emerson. 



