A HOLIDAY 81 



rippled along over grey shingle, purling and sparkling in the 

 sunshine. A nimble-legged dottrel ran along the bank before 

 us, uttering his small, sharp note as he went ; he gained the 

 shelter of the shingle, and was at once lost to sight amongst 

 the grey stones which seemed to swallow him up. We looked 

 in vain for a while ; then saw him again as he left the stones 

 and showed up against the water. There was no bridge across 

 the stream, and no stepping stones ; so we followed the dottrel, 

 and went barefooted over the shingle, down the path of the 

 stream. And so at last we came to the sea itself. 



There in the dark brown rocks lay the swimming-pool, like 

 a blue jewel beneath the midday sun. Xot a living creature 

 was in sight, except the cows in a distant paddock, and some 

 gulls resting on the rocks. The day was ours sunshine. 

 breeze and water all our very own, to loaf and play in as we 

 liked. And we seized it with both hands. In a very few 

 minutes we were standing on the rocks ready to plunge into 

 the sparkling, dancing water. The tide, which was still run- 

 ning out, had filled our bath afresh for us, and the water was 

 sharp and buoyant. In we plunged, splashing and laughing as 

 the fresh salt bit our skins ; and there for an hour or more we 

 stayed, swimming and diving for the big white shells, which 

 showed clearly at the bottom of the bath. The sun laughed 

 down upon us, the terns flew overhead, and the sea splashed 

 a fine shower of spray towards us now and then all joining 

 in our happiness. 



