South Beach. 37 



crest of some monstrous beast. It seems to be quietly 

 slumbering there; to be dark and gray in Winter and in 

 Spring to suddenly change its color, like a chameleon. 



The wind also blows the sand off the deposits of black 

 and slightly cemented iron-sand. These sheets are very 

 thin and brittle, and it is seldom that one of any consider- 

 able size can be lifted by the hand from the place where 

 it was formed. 



On the Point there are many cedars, and near the house 

 once stood a number of Lombardy poplars ; but they have 

 nearly all been cut down. It is said that the wind made 

 too much noise "roaring in their branches;" they were so 

 high and lithe that they responded to every breeze, and so 

 ailanthus trees were planted near the house and the poplars 

 felled. There are some very old bay bushes that have 

 grown twelve feet high and proportionally robust in trunk, 

 and under them the fowls congregate. The rooster may 

 crow ever so lustily on the Point, and only be answered by 

 the dismal cry of a seagull, for all the tones of defiance 

 from the mainland come attempered by the breeze, and the 

 chanticleers themselves would not know what to think of 

 the far-away sound. Even the European or English spar- 

 rows do not often make their way thither, but the native 

 song-sparrow is quite domestic, and hops about among the 

 hen-coops or perches on their tops. 



Years ago a few cultivated blackberry bushes grew 

 near the house, and when in fruit they were tied with dang- 

 ling shingles. Some poor catbird, in passing over the 

 Point, always found these few bushes most tempting and 

 tarried awhile — hence the shingles. Rabbits, too, frequent 



