172 Idylls of the Field. 



colouring of the shells they have been breaking on the 

 pebbles. No natives of the coast are these. They 

 are waifs from the Atlantic, argonauts drifted by the 

 long-continued gales far from their ocean rest, and 

 stranded here on this unfriendly shore. 



In their home in mid-ocean they live chiefly at the 

 surface, buoyed up by a kind of raft. This raft, which 

 is among the most wonderful of natural objects, con- 

 sists of a membrane extending from the mouth of the 

 shell, like an unusual development of the little valve 

 that closes so tightly on the domestic arrangements of 

 the periwinkle. On the underside of the raft hang, in 

 a sort of fringe, the creature's eggs, which remain there 

 until they are hatched. 



This Ianthina is a singularly helpless sailor. It has 

 little control over its movements ; it is without the 

 power of sight ; it drifts aimlessly at the mercy of the 

 waves. 



But not only does the stormy weather strew the sand 

 with weeds and shells j it drives the sea-birds to seek 

 shelter by the shore. 



The ledges of the cliffs, as far as the eye can reach, 

 are white with gulls, whose snowy plumage rivals the 

 very foam which some higher wave than usual scatters 

 over their ranks. 



Less noticeable are the sombre cormorants that, 

 sheltering in deep niches round the sounding caverns 

 under the cliff, are darker even than the dark rock that 

 leans out over their heads. 



