FLOWERS OF THE SEA. 74 
liancy of those that have enjoyed more of the 
kisses of the sun. They wave like plumes, 
like gayest ribbons are tossed in the currents; 
some as fine as frostwork can scarcely be dis- 
cerned, while others in mimic forests grow to 
a thousand feet.” 
Miss Bremely remarked: “There is one 
variety of seaweed which has passed into his- 
tory because of its influence upon the industry 
and the lives of a far-away people. Shall I 
tell you about it?” She read her answer in 
the eager faces turned toward her; that of the 
good doctor beamed with especial pleasure as 
he listened, and Undine wondered that she 
had not known before that Dr. McLean liked 
seaweeds so well. 
“THE MERMAID’S LACE.” 
The little island of Burano lies like a gem 
in the blue Adriatic. In the early days its 
inhabitants were simple fisher folk, spreading 
their nets at night in the coves of the sea; in 
the morning, carrying their fish in rude gon- 
dolas to the markets of Venice. The women 
mended the broken nets or netted new ones, 
little guessing they were catching a trick of 
netting which should one day form the founda- 
tion of a fabric to be the pride of royalty. 
