CHAPTER IX 



THE SEA 



WHEN the glorious summer weather comes, 

 when we feel that by a year's honest work we 

 have fairly won the prize of a good holiday, 

 how we turn instinctively to the Sea. We 

 pine for the delicious smell of the sea air, the 

 murmur of the waves, the rushing sound of 

 the pebbles on the sloping shore, the cries of 

 the sea-birds; and long to 



Linger, where the pebble-paven shore, 

 Under the quick, faint kisses of the Sea, 

 Trembles and sparkles as with ecstasy. 1 



How beautiful the sea-coast is ! At the 

 foot of a cliff, perhaps of pure white chalk, or 

 rich red sandstone, or stern grey granite, lies 

 the shore of gravel or sand, with a few 



1 Shelley. 



Z 337 



