CHAP. xv. WORKING AGAIN AT THE ROCKS. 223 



sheets of ice, with long fantastic icicles hanging from 

 every precipice. The air was still, and the sea with- 

 out a ripple. Of course nothing could be done ; it was 

 too icy, too cold. 



" The scene changed to another phase, not a whit 

 more endurable. A cold, ' blae, eastlin ' wind, accom- 

 panied by driving sleety showers, whistled along the 

 watery turmoil. This was followed by a close, dense, 

 foggy drizzle. Bogs and mires were impassable to ordi- 

 nary folk. Patience said ' Wait.' 



" Well, I waited. Winds and rains are but a tide. 

 The eastern sky at length frowned, and stormed, and 

 wept itself into sheer good humour. The air became 

 dry and mild, and a delightful morning at length dawned. 

 I took up my spade and went off to the spot, in order to 

 solve your query." 



" I remember that I was much struck by the pheno- 

 menon, when you pointed it out to me on the top of yon 

 dizzy precipice. I was no less astonished on seeing it 

 a second time. To me these wonders are never old. 

 Their edge never dulls. They always stir me. 



" I laid bare the rock for about two feet. I did not 

 feel entitled to do any more. I felt I had no right to 

 strip the soil off any man's property, so I desisted. But 

 it was quite enough. The rock, beneath the soil, was 

 polished and grooved, in even a more beautiful manner 

 than when you saw it. The bearings of the groovings 

 and scratches were, as near as could be determined 

 without a compass, west and east. 



"On coming homewards, I noted, at a spot where 



