254 AN HOUR AMONG THE TORBAY SPONGES. 



summers has dislodged from the promontory, and 

 plunged in confusion at its base. The unwonted 

 recess of the water to-day permits us to wind around 

 the outer edge of these, with a little shallow wading, 

 and an occasional climbing over a block more obtru- 

 sive than its fellows. We soon see that we are on 

 promising ground. The perpendicular surfaces of 

 these huge blocks, especially those which are turned 

 from the sun, are crowded with specimens of various 

 species of anemones. Here are numerous colonies of 

 the smooth, great, overgrown strawberries, displaying 

 their yellow-green spotting on their liver-red bodies ; 

 smaller, but more attractive self-coloured ones, plump 

 and pellucid, crimson and green, reminding us of 

 cherries and green-gages ; and hosts of little ones, 

 hardly arrived at an age to develop any particular 

 character as yet. And here are great daisies, pro- 

 fusely crowded ; purple-bodied, pink-based fellows, 

 lolling out of holes and crevices in the coarse rock, and 

 inviting the honour of capture. We cannot resist the 

 temptation ; we apply the chisel, and by a few well- 

 directed strokes of the hammer, succeed in separating 

 large pieces of the soft and friable stone, which, loaded 

 with the uninjured daisies, are thrown into the basket 

 loose ; the glass jars being reserved for tenderer and 

 more delicate things. 



Many of these blocks of stone, having fallen one 

 upon another, are supported in such a manner as to 

 make arches and low-roofed passages ; and such con- 

 ditions are sure to be prolific in marine life. We 



