1 68 The hish Naturalist. September, 



close to the road which bounds the City on the east, and which 

 extends from the Alexandra Basin, North Wall, as far as the 

 River Tolka at Annesley Bridge, Fairview. To-day at high 

 water the sea-mew swims over its ancient site. Yet at the 

 time to which we refer, it was a busy and populous place, and 

 between the island and the well-know^n East Wall bathing- 

 slip a deep and swift current ran at ebbing tide that some- 

 times proved fatal to swimmers. It was also the scene of 

 some splendid rescues effected by members of the Dublin 

 Metropolitan police force on duty there. This stream ran 

 along the south side of the island, past Walpole's and 

 Goulding's works, and found its way into the Liffey nearly 

 opposite the Pigeon-house. The island was bounded on the 

 north and east by the stream flowing from the middle rail- 

 wa}' arch, which took a turn near the east point of the 

 island, and here joined the south stream. 



The highest part of the island was composed of coarse 

 banks of yellow clay, ftiU of pebbles and laj'ers of sea-shells, 

 and those banks bore a thick covering of grass, which with 

 a profusion of Sea-pink made the place look gay and bright. 

 Here the fishermen used to spread their nets on poles to 

 dr3% and various kinds of craft w^ere hauled up on the grass}^ 

 banks out of the reach of the tide during the winter. 



There were two picturesque wooden cabins where the 

 men lived all the 3'ear, and a large covered bathing-shed 

 stood close to the big swimming-pond, which w^as enclosed 

 by wooden stakes and tree stumps. This bath w^as about 

 30 yards long, and here many youngsters learned to swim 

 in safety, as the bottom sloped gently from one end, to about 

 a depth of 7 feet. During the long w^arm summer evenings 

 there was plenty of animation as the boats full of bathers were 

 ferried across from the city side, and the grassj^ banks were a 

 favourite resting place for tired artizans. 



Ok. Clontarf Island and in its vicinity my late brother 

 Edward and myself for years had many opportunities of 

 becoming acquainted with the appearance and habits of 

 neaily every species of bird that frequented the shores of 

 Dul)lin Bay. The early frosty mornings of September used to 

 find us wading along the sandy margins of the streams that 

 skirted the island, searching closel}' among the flocks of 



