MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 



143 



morning. My companion and I set off to Berwick, 

 and, after seeing the town, we returned to Elwick 

 by Holy Island. In the performance of this day's 

 journey we had to encounter some difficulties which 

 might have been attended with fatal consequences. 

 We had been cautioned against attempting, after a 

 certain hour, to walk across the extensive flat left 

 bare by the ebb tide. We were beyond the time 

 named, but resolved to proceed, and had to run the 

 greatest part of the way; and it was well we did so; 

 for, before we reached the Island, we found the tide 

 was rapidly advancing between us and the shore, 

 and we had to wade deeply before we reached it. 

 On looking back, over the flat space we had just 

 left, we were surprised to view it as a sea. My 

 companion, being rather corpulent, was in a sad 

 state of perspiration with over exertion, and I think 

 I was not much better, from the anxiety I felt for 

 him, while I was constantly urging him to mend 

 his speed. We now hastened to a public-house, 

 dripping with wet, where my companion took a 

 few glasses of gin, and prevailed on me to take 

 one along with hini; and this is the first glass of 

 that liquor I ever recollect taking. Our next 

 business was to get a boat to set us across the arm 

 of the sea, between the island and the nearest 

 shore, towards Elwick. It was then nearly dark; 

 and, before the boatmen got us rowed across, it 

 was quite so. Where they landed us we knew not, 

 but we had to wade to the dry beach. In shaping 

 our course to Elwick, we lost ourselves in the fields, 

 and it was late before we arrived there. We were 

 in as dirty a state as wet and mire could make us. 

 Mrs. Younghusband, however, lost no time in 

 fitting us up with dry clothes, and in making us 



