264 THE AQUARIAN NATURALIST. 



he ran to kiss his bonny Jane, who for so long had 

 waited patiently to have him back. Well, nothing 

 would serve poor Tom but he must have her with him 

 down to Poulton (there that village that you see 

 some distance down the coast), to spend a day of 

 happiness together. Alas ! they little thought what 

 fate awaited them on their return. Meantime a 

 storm had risen, but Tom had faced too many storms 

 to fear bravely he pulled to gain the haven's mouth, 

 and manfully he strove against the waves vain was 

 his strength against those giant billows rolling in, 

 and madly raving on this fatal shore. There, on 

 yonder rock, poor Tom's frail skiff was dashed to 

 atoms, and his long-intended bride perished amidst 

 the boiling surge, and disappeared for ever. He him- 

 self was cast up senseless, but alive, upon the shore. 



Sad was his fate. There, for many a weary month, 

 poor Tom was to be seen standing, silent and alone, 

 gazing upon the place where all his hopes had sunk 

 till, in another storm, he saw the rolling breakers 

 gathering round the giant pedestal on which he stayed 

 unmoved as a marble statue, until a wave, engulfing 

 him in its broad bosom, bore him off to join the lass 

 so dearly and so fatally beloved. 



Such is the legend of the Tom Hurd rock ! 



After thanking our friend for this somewhat tragical 

 narrative, we again set out upon our walk along the 

 cliffs still mounting, as we skirted the grand preci- 

 pice, along a path by far too near its edge to be either 

 safe or agreeable to the feelings of a nervous person. 

 At length we reached the culminating point of our 

 excursion, the lighthouse which crowns the awful 



