Vol. III. AUGUST, 1887. No. 2\ 



BEAUTIES OF THE SEA."" 



The ocean is a great home. Its waters are full of life. The 

 rocks along its shores are thickly se with living things; the mud 

 and sand of its bays are pierced with innumerable burrows, and 

 even the abyss of the deep sea has its curious inhabitants. 



Huge whales steam along near the surface of the ocean; fishes 

 of a thousand kinds are at home a little lower down; crabs and 

 lobsters, star-fishes and -sea-urchins creep along the rocks or 

 make their way through the masses of seaweed which grow near 

 the shores. Clams and oysters lie on the bottom; sea- snails, with 

 their curious shells, mussels, barnacles, and a host of inferior 

 creatures, all find their proper places in this great ocean home. 



We are not able to see all that is going on under the water; in 

 fact, our field of observation is quite limited; but by keeping a 

 sharp lookout we may be able to discover a great many interesting 

 facts, and to make very probable guesses as to things which we 

 cannot clearly observe. 



So come with me some fine summer morning down to the 

 ocean beach. We will choose a day when low tide occurs about 

 sunrise, and we will be promptly on hand at that hour. There is 

 a light fog floating over the water, and as we come down to the 

 shore, we are surprised to see what a broad stretch of mossy 

 rocks has been left bare by the retreating tide. 



We walk quickly across the sandy beach clamber over the 

 slippery rocks as far as the water will allow us, and then we look 

 and listen. Some distance out the big waves come rolling in, 

 smooth and glassy, till they strike the shoaling bottom. There 

 the lower part of the wave is stranded, but the top by no means 

 loses its shoreward motion. Rushing forward, it curls and 

 breaks into foam with a roaring splash, while the water at our feet, 

 feeling the impulse, presses in between the rocks with a soft 

 murmur, and then flows back again to meet the next incoming 

 wave. 



There are tones ot music in all this never-ending motion of the 

 sea which can hardly be described, but which bring to the ear of 



*} From advance pages of West Coast Smells, by Josiah Keep. Copyrighted, 



