244 HEY: SPECIMEN DAYS ON THE YORKSHIRE COAST. 
But every unbooted foot is necessarily stealthy, because soundless. 
How strangely sé/enf the communities of primitive people must have 
been—no meaning there for the line in Tennyson’s elegy for 
Wellington— . 
Let the feet of those he fought for 
Echo round his bones for evermore. 
_ Firey, Sep. 8th, ieet. —The day rose with gloom and drizzle, _ 
but it has now established itself as warm and still, with a sky whose 
blue ground colour is figured and strewn thickly with white and : 
grey clouds—. 
The sky is a gossamer web 
Of sapphire and pearl and grey. 
Here, by Filey caves, a faint breeze blows from the water, and the 
horizon of the blue sea is merged in vapour with the sky. An idle 
swell rises upon the rock-ledges, and the wave runs back in white 
waterfalls which have caused a little white foam to float on the 
surface and outline the contour of the cliffs. These cliffs rise in 
shelves, first black with Fucus, then green with Enteromorpha, after- 
wards, bare layers of grey and white rock. On these lie coarse © pe 
gravels, and above steep slopes of boulder-clay crowned with 
verdant turf. In the echoing basin below me the rising tide is 
gradually making a louder and louder sound of rushing. The sun ae 
is growing brighter, and a fresher wind is carrying a brown-sailed S 
yawl beyond the Naze. Behind me the sea is noisy about a piece 
of cliff, which the rummaging waves have perforated. A larger 
wave has just smitten the rock with a great boom, and the scattered oe 
spray fallen back with a loud splash. se 
Sep. r2th, 1891.—" Waiting at Filey Station for the evening | train, oe 
to Scarborough. The sun, a glowing, red-gold orb, is sinking 9 
a purple-copper haze. Ses trees, still in full foliage, stand out 
black against the brightness beyond. The halfmoon hangs aboy 
the Speeton eskers, which are growing dim in the evening light. 
The pastures are full of faded grains, and their pallor contrasts 
strongly with the dark hedges, and the brown and black horses. 
The rounded slopes are crowned with cornstooks. Muston Mill 1s 
dark against the sky. A cool meen, breeze blows refresh- 
ment in my face. - 
oe REDCAR, Feb. 20th, 1 889.—. a strong north-west wind $ is Howink: ae 
but. here, under the wall at the east end of Redcar, it is warm and 
delightful; for a bright sun bathes me, body and spirit, and the 
_ mind gives but gentle pus in my face now a and then. ‘Tam sitting 
