336 ISLES OF SUMMER. 
At the mouth of the St. John’s the breakers, foaming over 
vast submerged sand fields, please the eye, but are strongly sug- 
gestive of danger. The tortuous channel was said to be only six 
weeks old. It certainly differed greatly from the one through 
which we were piloted the previous year. Without the aid of 
steam-tugs, sailing vessels must find it very difficult and decidedly 
dangerous to make their way along the submerged banks and 
over the bar. The remiins of two wrecks—one that of a steamer 
—which we passed, bore silent testimony to the perils which 
navigators are here called upon to encounter. A large number 
of pilots live at the mouth of the St. John’s and study its con- 
stant mutations. They have built up a village on its left bank, 
which bears the appropiate name of “Pilot Town.” Opposite 
this is the village of Mayport, which is inhabited mostly by fisher- 
men, whose fishing nets, boats and reels gave variety and interest 
to the view. 
Soon after we entered the river, a cloudy night deprived us of 
the pleasure we had hoped to experience in viewing for twenty- 
five miles the St. John’s below Jacksonville. We tied up to 
the wharf at about 8 P. M. nan 
The next day we took passage in the little steamboat that daily - 
makes frequent trips to “‘The Home ” (stopping at intermediate 
landings) upon a beautiful bank at the junction of Arlington 
creek and the river St. John’s. We landed at St. Nicholas, and 
for a few brief but happy hours observed and tasted the swects. 
of plantation life. A re-union with some old and highly esteemed 
friends ‘‘refined the pure gold” of smiling, verdant, blooming 
nature’s welcome. 
The river bank where we landed is about twenty-five feet high, 
the top of which we reached by a winding path through a wild 
tangle of bushes and vines, covered with verdure and adorned 
with buds and blossoms. Once more upon the land—not in the 
