CHAPTER XVIII. 



SEAWEEDS. 



" See on the violet sands beneath, 

 How the glorious shells do glide ! 

 sea ! old sea ! who yet knows half 

 Of thy wonders and thy pride ! 



" Look how the sea plants trembling float, 

 All like a mermaid's locks, 

 Waving in thread of ruby red 

 Over those nether rocks ! 



" Heaving and sinking, soft and fair, 

 Here hyacinth, there green, 

 With many a stem of golden growth 

 And starry flowers between." 



HEN we began our Highland tour, we agreed 

 not to mind the rain ; a wetting in the High- 

 lands does no one any harm. We had found 

 great peace of mind in this assurance. Thus when we 

 set out at Arran for a coast ramble, and found that the 

 clouds which had hung all the former day over the hills, 

 had determined to empty themselves to-day, we still 

 were resolved not to mind. But surely there is no 

 rain like Arran rain ! A steady breeze was blowing, and 

 the rain came with it — not gradually, but all at once, a 

 tremendous pour ! We sheltered behind rocks, but the 



