A WRECKED SCHOONER. 79 



prominent object along the shore was the hull of a 

 deserted ship about a mile below Ormond, which was 

 wrecked on December 5, 1896. It being low tide, I 

 easily reached it and climbed to its deck. It had been 

 a three-masted schooner, about one hundred and 

 twenty feet in length. One mast had been sawed off, 

 the other two snapped by the storm which drove the 

 vessel stem first upon this coast. Two of her crew 

 were swept overboard and drowned before she struck, 

 and a landsman was also drowned while striving to 

 rescue the remainder of the crew, who were finally 

 saved. On the side of her prow is the name Nathan 

 F. Cobb, of Rockland, Maine. Her hull lies deep in 

 the sands. At high tide the ocean, proud of his 

 power, breaks over her. Vultures and fish hawks at 

 times rest upon the stubs of her broken masts. 

 Curiosity-seekers like myself by hundreds come and 

 go. There she will probably lie for years to come, 

 the only wreck of any importance along this coast 

 for 50 miles. 



March 20, 1899. The night has been cool, but the 

 sun rises bright and glorious from the bed of the 

 ocean. There is but here and there a dimple on the 

 surface of the river. Its waters are flowing placidly 

 onward to the sea. The waters of a man's life are his 

 days. Like those of a river, a lake or the sea, they 

 are at one time calm, placid and slow moving. At an- 

 other, they are tossed into foam, into high waves, and 



