eaking away, and
precipitated to the bottom. At the foot of the bank, in some parts, is a
vast number of pebbles and paving-stones, rolled up thither by the sea
long ago. The beach is of a brown sand, with hardly any pebbles
intermixed upon it. When the tide is part way down, there is a margin of
several yards from the water's edge, along the whole mile length of the
beach, which glistens like a mirror, and reflects objects, and shines
bright in the sunshine, the sand being wet to that distance from the
water. Above this margin the sand is not wet, and grows less and less
damp the farther towards the bank you keep. In some places your footstep
is perfectly implanted, showing the whole shape, and the square toe, and
every nail in the heel of your boot. Elsewhere, the impression is
imperfect, and even when you stamp, you cannot imprint the whole. As you
tread, a dry spot flashes around your step, and grows moist as you lift
your foot again. Pleasant to pass along this extensive walk, watching
the surf-wave;--how sometimes it seems to make a feint of breaking, but
dies away ineffectually, merely kissing the strand; then, after many
such abortive efforts, it gathers itself, and forms a high wall, and
rolls onward, heightening and heightening, without foam at the summit of
the green line, and at last throws itself fiercely on the beach, with a
loud roar, the spray flying above. As you walk along, you are preceded
by a flock of twenty or thirty beach birds, which are seeking, I
suppose, for food on the margin of the surf, yet seem to be merely
sporting, chasing the sea as it retires, and running up before the
impending wave. Sometimes they let it bear them off their feet, and
float lightly on its breaking summit: sometimes they flutter and seem to
rest on the feathery spray. They are little birds with gray backs and
snow-white breasts; their images may be seen in the wet sand almost or
full as distinctly as the reality. Their legs are long. As you draw
near, they take a flight of a score of yards or more, and then
recommence their dalliance with the surf-wave. You may behold their
multitudinous little tracks all along your way. Before you reach the end
of the beach, you become quite attached to these little sea-birds, and
take much interest in their occupations. After passing in one direction,
it is pleasant then to retrace your footsteps. Your tracks being all
traceable, you may recall the whole mood and occupation of your min