4 THE ISLAND OF NANTUCKET. 



" The lines are cast off, the steamer's head swings 

 slowly around, the throb and rumble begin again, and 

 we are off for Nantucket two hours away, right out 

 to sea and below the horizon. The ocean is in good 

 mood; the sun, in its afternoon glory, is warm enough, 

 but the gentlest of sea breezes, coming in upon us 

 from the broad Atlantic, is like a cooling beverage 

 for refreshment. All the senses are lulled to luxurious 

 rest, and we would be content to sail on under the 

 summer sky through an endless day like this. Seated 

 upon the upper bow deck, in the shade of the pilot- 

 house, we gaze and dream and drink the air, and 

 hear the gentle whispers of the sea, while ever and 

 anon we peer into the distance along the horizon 

 line, where sea and sky mingle in such harmony of 

 color that we hardly know where sea ends and sky 

 begins, peering to detect the first faint line of the 

 low cliffs of Nantucket. Muskeget Island is at length 

 sighted, and then Tuckernuck, — jagged fragment left 

 over after Nantucket was finished, or else wrongfully 

 rent from it by the remorseless sea after Nature had 

 finished her work and pronounced it * very good.' . . . 



" By and by the horizon grows unsteady, wavers, is 

 jagged, and sharp eyes detect land! Nantucket is safe, 

 for there at length rises the ' cliff.' That wonderful 

 water-tank on stilts next catches our eyes ; soon after, 

 church spires thrust their, javelin points above the 

 bluffs from the still hidden town that lies just around 

 yonder headland; a lighthouse; the bell-buoy; and as 

 the steamer carefully feels its way over the bar, along 

 its narrow path, the town of Nantucket itself, sitting 

 on its amphitheatrical seats around the harbor, flashes 

 in the sunlight upon us. . . . 



