In the Morning. 
LL night long a white mantle of fog had 
il lain upon the Downs, and now as the 
belated dawn begins to break a faint breeze 
stirs and lifts the heavy pall. Close in shore 
the dim, ghostly shape of a collier brig comes 
slowly out, and the hoarse, warning note of the 
Gull Light foghorn is answered by the muffled 
scream of a steamer’s siren somewhere near the 
South Sand Head. With the cold, grey morn¬ 
ing light there falls a misty, drizzling rain ; 
dark figures move about the wet shingle, and 
one by one the fishing-boats are launched and 
row out seaward, and ere the last to leave is 
a cable length away, down comes the sweeping 
fog once more and blots them all from view, 
till naught is visible but the black outlines of 
