LIFE IN A SEASIDE SUMMER SCHOOL. 



87 



Later in the day we take in a quiz given by an instructor to his 

 class in bacteriology. After supper, which is much like dinner, an 

 evening lecture is given by another instructor, who tells us about 

 Agassiz and his work, while we sit about the fireplace, with its 

 crackling fire of driftwood, for the evening is cool, although it is 

 August. A little later I am shown to my berth in the men's com- 

 partment on the second floor. The carpenter had built plain wooden 

 berths in tiers of two each, and these have had boughs of cedar laid 

 in them on which I roll in my blankets and sleep soundly. A similar 

 compartment is provided for the women of the party, and here our 

 chaperon gathers her charge. The sounds of the retreating tide as the 

 waves lap upon the rocks lull our senses, and we sink into such a 

 sleep as only those can enjoy who live in camp. 



Watching the Black-fish. 



The roar of the breakers wakes us early, and I go down to the 

 beach and walk along its rocky ledges for half a mile and watch the 

 swaying kelps (Nereocystis) and the nodding sea palms (Postelsia) 

 as the waves dash over them. A messenger comes to call me to the 

 breakfast I am forgetting, and we hurry back by a short cut over the 

 neck of a promontory, crossing a canyon on the trunk of a fallen 

 spruce five or six feet in diameter. On its upper side it carries several 

 large trees, and yet its wood is as sound as when it fell a century or 

 so ago. After breakfast the sub-director instructs her class in sea- 

 weeds for a couple of hours, when the director takes them and goes 



