PROVINCETOWN. 
243 
Leaving far on one side Manomet Point in Plymouth 
and the Scituate shore, after being out of sight of land 
for an hour or two, for it was rather hazy, we neared 
the Cohasset Rocks again at Minot’s Ledge, and saw the 
great Tupelo-tree on the edge of Scituate, which lifts its 
dome, like an umbelliferous plant, high over the surround¬ 
ing forest, and is conspicuous for many miles over land 
and water. Here was the new iron light-house, then 
unfinished, in the shape of an egg-shell painted red, and 
placed high on iron pillars, like the ovum of a sea mon¬ 
ster floating on the waves, — destined to be phosphores¬ 
cent. As we passed it at half-tide we saw the spray 
tossed up nearly to the shell. A man was to live in that 
egg-shell day and night, a mile from the shore. When 
I passed it the next summer it was finished and two men 
lived in it, and a light-house keeper said that they told 
him that in a recent gale it had rocked so as to shake 
the plates ofif the table. Think of making your bed 
thus in the crest of a breaker! To have the waves, like 
a pack of hungry wolves, eying you always, night and 
day, and from time to time making a spring at you, 
almost sure to have you at last. And not one of all 
those voyagers can come to your relief, — but when yon 
light goes out, it will be a sign that the light of your life 
has gone out also. What a place to compose a work on 
breakers! This light-house was the cynosure of all 
eyes. Every passenger watched it for half an hour at 
least; yet a colored cook belonging to the boat, whom I 
had seen come out of his quarters several times to empty 
his dishes over the side with a flourish, chancing to come 
out just as we were abreast of this light, and not more 
than forty rods from it, and were all gazing at it, as he 
back his arm, caught sight of it, and with surprise 
