58 Star anb Weatbec Gossip 



boats appears, their bare masts jerking about in the 

 maddest fashion. First one bobs in the direction of 

 Hartlepool as though it would draw attention to the 

 dazzling white lighthouse and the grand old tower of 

 St. Hilda's, another awkwardly inclines itself towards 

 Longscar and Seaton Carew ; and yet another begins 

 to pitch Redcar-ways and ends by making a solemn 

 obeisance to West Hartlepool instead. Thus they 

 keep at it tirelessly ; and even when a tug comes out 

 of harbour and lays hold of them they go into port 

 bobbing in a bunch. 



The afternoon wears away. That last gust of wind 

 sent quite a chill through me, for it has come off the 

 water, and the water looks black and cold. The sound 

 of it is like the summer gale surging through a wood. 

 No longer is there a merry lay from the sky-piercing 

 lark. The droning of that bee among the white clover 

 ceased long ago. And look ! there is a great smudge 

 of smoke rolling in from seaward. It sweeps against 

 the Yorkshire cliffs, clings to their expansive breasts 

 with an almost loving fondness, and, parting, trails 

 across their windy summits and rolls down into the 

 wide, picturesque valley beyond. Thus does the 

 afternoon depart. 



IV 



Rosy tints from the mid-July sunset have spread 

 themselves over the dunes and softly stolen across the 

 brown ripple-marks to the sea. 



Night comes. The moon floods the bay with its 

 silvery light. A shadowy ship sails on a silver track ; 

 silver wavelets purl among the rocks, and a broad 

 stream of silver ceaselessly ebbs and flows on the shore. 



