OLD OCEANS WATERS. 153 



ment of the plates of the plastron, and by the pres- 

 ence of two yellow lines on each side of the head and 

 three pale, lengthwise bands on the carapace. It can 

 close its shell more completely, than can its close ally, 

 the better known mud turtle. A live specimen of K* 

 liaurii, taken later, measured four inches in length by 

 nearly three in breadth. 



April 6, 1899. To-day I make my last trip along 

 the sea beach. Old ocean is on a rampage after the 

 wind storm of yesterday. The surging waves strike 

 the sands far out, then tumble and toss in a mad race 

 for the shore. ]STo human agency can bar their action 

 their onward coming. It is a power beyond control 

 of man which brings them on. It is hard to realize 

 that three-fourths of the surface of the earth is cov- 

 ered with this surging, rolling, ever-moving mass of 

 waters. Great monsters are begotten, are born, live, 

 move and die within their midst, possibly without 

 ever catching a sight of land. They are the home of 

 myriads of forms of life, untold myriads of individ- 

 uals. Thousands of humans each year find a final 

 resting place within their depths. 



As the waves strike the edge of the shore they lose 

 their turbulency, roll for a distance on the sands, then 

 die content. 'Tis like the mad race of men for some 

 goal where they expect to find honor, wealth and hap- 

 piness. They toil, they struggle, they surge, they 

 beat over and around one another. Some of them 

 finally reach what they are striving after and often- 



