THE BRITISH NATURALIST. [D ECEMBER 



its panicled spikes of pink flowers. Along the shore of Rocquaine 

 Bay you may see a tangled hedge of a strange sub-tropical plant, with 

 large orange or crimson composite flowers, and thick triangular leaves, 

 looking something like those of a stonecrop — this is a Mesembryan- 

 themum. I am afraid no words of mine will paint a picture that will 

 do justice to this land of pleasant meadows, shady " water lanes," and 

 rugged headlands jutting far out into the sea, which here, is even 

 more brilliantly green than that surrounding the Isle of Man. 



The bays of Guernsey are as frequently visited by the natives as 

 by strangers ; for they are adepts in the science and art of picnicking. 

 Under the overhanging rocks are many caves filled with ferns — among 

 which are the Aspleniums, mannum and lanceolatum, and yard-long 

 fronds of the Hart's-tongue fern. Lower down, great crags of 

 barnacle-covered granite stretch out to sea, their square sides making 

 them look as though they were ruins of some giant Egyptian city. 

 And then the strips of yellow sand between them make fine bathing 

 ground for visitors — the natives of both sexes being fearless swimmers, 

 who love a day in the water when the long rolling waves set towards 

 the shore, leaping over the rocks and spending their energy on the 

 cliffs. I shall never forget one glorious day in Sark. Four of us 

 sailed over there, ostensibly botanising, but in reality we spent the 

 day either bathing or getting ready for the next bathe. The tide was 

 coming in, rapidly as it only can where it rises forty feet. Sark is 

 surrounded by cliffs three hundred feet high and inaccessible in most 

 places. You have to land on a jetty outside the island, and then walk 

 through a tunnel cut through the cliffs, and this brings you into 

 Baker's Valley — a pretty spot. We climbed down where the western 

 gales had detached large masses of cliff. The gullies between them, 

 many fathoms deep, and a few fathoms across, were filled with such 

 inviting emerald water, that soon we were in it, diving and swimming 

 about, borne here and there by the incgming tide, each wave carrying 

 us up or down — perhaps two or three yards — for the water soon gets 

 pent up in these narrow channels. We were indeed " rocked in the 

 cradle of the deep." Ah ! I don't believe the man who wrote that 

 song alluded to a stuffy old boat. No : he must have been thinking 

 of the enjoyment of being carried up and down when swimming in the 

 sea, some day after a storm, when the w r ind has gone, and the waves 

 have lost their broken crests, and rise and fall in unbroken lines, 

 rushing on like the columns of an invading army. But, as this is a 

 Society of Naturalists, I ought to have mentioned that in the gully 

 aforesaid, were many beautiful specimens of Medusce ; while the rocks 

 about low water mark were festooned with species of Fucus, Laminaria, 

 and here and there a crimson patch of the edible Rhodomena. 



After swim number one, we saw many plants that we had often 



