ALONG SHORE 



151 



waters beating against the cliffs and crashing 

 on the beach, tell us what latent strength lies in 

 our whilom summer sea. The pound of the 

 waves is terrific. They rush and dash along 

 the ledges and through the fissures, and are 

 flung high in air by every stubborn headland. 

 After many hours of this wild charging the 

 water itself begins to have a beaten and bat- 

 tered look about it. It is churned about the 

 rocks until it hangs in ropes or skeins of foam, 

 and oftentimes the very whiteness is whipped 

 out of it the froth lying in soiled, cream-col- 

 ored streaks upon the surface. In such storms 

 many a heavy block of granite is shaken from 

 the cliff-wall and rolled into the sea, and many 

 a new inlet or bay is cut out in a few hours by 

 the steady beat and wash of ponderous breakers. 

 As for the fate of a ship driven on a bar or 

 shoal in such a storm, it can readily be imagined. 

 As soon as she strikes the sands the waves be- 

 gin to break over her decks, and a few hours 

 may suffice to see her stove in and pounded to 

 pieces. 



It would seem as though this destruction of 

 cliff and beach were anything but a blessing, 

 and yet the storm at sea has its uses. If it har- 

 ries and worries the shore, it helps the broad 



The 



whipped 



waves. 



On the bar. 



