14 ALONGSHORE x 



rushes from top to bottom, but his means of living 

 are. For there his whole property is. It is upon 

 the beach that a chance wave may beggar him, or, 

 worse than that, may sweep away or stove In the 

 savings of a lifetime. Men who no longer go to sea 

 spend their days, and frequently their nights too. In 

 stumping from house to beach and back again Into 

 house. They cannot rest away from beach. No one 

 can. They worry themselves and everybody else : 

 "TIs going to blow, I tell thee, or / never see'd 

 it coming; an' the tides be on the move. If thee 

 doesn't haul up, thee't lose the lot o' It. That's 

 what thee's going to do one o' these days, sure 

 'nuff !' And In consequence nobody hauls up till 

 the last moment. A beach, sole defence against 

 the sea, Is scarcely less treacherous. Effectively, 

 it Is more so, for It lends a confidence that it 

 betrays, and fewer small craft are wrecked afloat 

 than are lost ashore. A brave thing is a boat 

 upon a rough sea, but washed off the beach with 

 Its oars and bottom-boards turning somersaults 

 around it, bumping along In the tub of the surf, it 

 Is a wholly pitiful sight. 



From the beach, too, men look out to sea as a 

 mother gazes at her child, noting every movement, 

 every expression, every shadow, and wondering 



