The dwelling of old Price was not what Edward and Lewis had at first
pictured to themselves a snug cottage by the sea-shore, from whose
latticed windows, the dwellers might watch the ever-varying face of the
ocean, or hail the first glimpse of the returning fishing-vessel; but a
small house in one of the confined, back streets of Brighton, so close
and narrow, that the children could almost fancy themselves in London
again.
The little party did not go empty-handed: Edward carried a present
for the old man, of a well filled tobacco-box, on the lid of which was
represented a ship in a storm, with the motto, “Such is Life.” Lewis
chose a book for the eldest boy, who had learned to read pretty well at
the National School; and Mrs. Ashton did not doubt, but the frock which
she had made for little Charley, would give pleasure to the fond mother
as well as to the child.
The old seaman was sitting at the low door, when his friends
approached, busily engaged in cutting a small vessel from a block of
wood, while his little grandsons intently watched the progress of the
work.
He rose on perceiving his visitors, uttering an exclamation of surprise
and pleasure; and then asked, if they would be pleased to walk in,
saying, that though his berth was a poor one, it was snug and clean;
and he was sure Mary would do her best to make them welcome.
Mary now came forward, and seconded her father’s invitation, which was
readily accepted.
Edward and Lewis were for making friends at once with the children; but
the elder boy stood looking shyly at the strangers, while the little
one ran to his mother, and hid his rosy face in her apron.
The sight of the book, however, soon caused them to become sociable:
little Tom could hardly believe it was for him; and when once he had
obtained possession of it, he held it up above his head, lest his
brother, who stood with extended hands, should seize and tear it.
“Look here!” said Edward, as he saw that the little fellow was half
inclined to cry, at being thus disappointed, “here is a pretty picture
for you;” and he showed the box to the child, and bade him ask
grandfather to let him fill his pipe with some of the tobacco. “Tell
him it is all for him, and Charley shall give him some when he wants
it.”
“Well, now, how very kind this is; you are too good to us,” said the
old man, as he lifted the little one on his knee, and expressed his
thanks in the best manner he was able, to the delighted donor.
The picture was admired and examined again and again, but the sight of
it seemed to revive some painful recollections. The seaman remarked,
that the motto was a very true one; and said that life had been a
stormy sea to him, though he had met with many a friendly sail on the
voyage.
Mrs. Ashton here expressed a hope, that he might never be left without
a pilot, to whose safe guidance he could trust; and reminded him, that
all our affairs are in the hands of Him, whose voice the winds and
waves obey.
The children saw that tears were in the old man’s eyes, as he raised
them with a serious expression, and said: “Yes, truly, Providence has
been to me like the bright pole-star, when all around was dark. He will
not suffer those who trust in Him to perish; so my Bible tells me,
ma’am; and I have found it to be, through his blessing, a safe guide to
port.”
“I rejoice to hear you say so,” said Mrs. Ashton: “happy, indeed, is
the mariner, who trusts not in any strength or skill of his own, to
guide his bark through the troubled ocean of life.”
The widowed mother did not take much part in this conversation; but
Edward and Lewis observed her fast-falling tears, as she busily plyed
her needle. They therefore forbore to ask any more questions about old
Tom’s voyages, the storms he had encountered, or the foreign lands he
had visited, lest they should remind poor Mary of the husband she had
lost, and give pain to her feeling heart.
Mrs. Ashton praised the neatness and cleanliness of the little
habitation; and the children admired the curious specimens of shells,
fossils, and sea-weed, which were arranged on the top of an antique
chest-of-drawers, over which was placed a looking-glass of the same
date, so inclined as to reflect the treasures below, and draw the
attention of visitors to these marine productions.
A small shelf, near the fire-place, contained a much-used Bible, and
some tracts, with two or three other books. Mrs. Ashton added a few
to the little store; and then, with many kind words, left the humble
dwelling, amid the oft-repeated thanks of poor Tom, and his daughter
Mary, for all the favours shown them by the good lady, and the young
gentlemen.
Edward and Lewis were not sorry when they had quitted the narrow,
confined street, to come in view of the sea once more. They rambled
along the beach to the westward, enjoying the cool sea-breezes, as they
had often done at other times.
The tide was now low, and many women and children were employed in
shrimping, at a distance from the shore; while the husbands and fathers
of some of them were busily engaged in making the necessary repairs in
their fishing-nets, which were spread all around to dry. The sun, like
a vast globe of fire, seemed gradually sinking below the horizon, until
it really appeared to rest upon the ocean; and then the sky and water
were of the same golden hue.
Edward and Lewis looked again and again, at the splendid sight, till
the sun had almost disappeared, and only the bright tints remained.
When they joined their mother, who was resting on one of the seats,
they found that she, too, had been watching with delight the departure
of the glorious orb of day; nor did she fail to remind her children,
that such a sight should inspire them with gratitude to our beneficent
Creator, who “giveth us all things richly to enjoy;” and whose power
and goodness are alike manifest in all his works. “As you grow older,”
she said, “I hope you will find much pleasure in examining them, and I
am sure that the more you do so, the more you will admire the skill and
wisdom of the great Artificer. But we have loitered here so long, my
dears, that we must not think of going further to-night; some other day
we may, perhaps, pursue our walk along the Cliff as far as Brunswick
Square.”
Evening, indeed, closed in upon the little party before they had
anticipated; for by the time they reached home, the last streak of
golden light had faded from the sky, and the stars, one by one, began
to twinkle in the deep blue.
Mrs. Ashton saw, as she sat at the window of her sitting-room, a sight
which she thought would greatly surprise and delight the children; but
she waited awhile to see whether the unusual appearance was noticed by
either of them.
Presently Edward looked up from his supper, which he was eating with a
keen relish after their evenings ramble, and exclaimed, in a voice of
astonishment and almost of alarm, “Mamma! Lewis! look! the sea is all
on fire!”
Lewis’s wonder was as great as his brothers: “What could it be?”
Edward’s fear subsided when he had looked for a few moments on the
beautiful scene; at last he said, “Dear mamma, can there be any animals
in the sea that give light in the dark, as the glow-worm does on land?”
Mrs. Ashton was pleased that her little boy tried to find out for
himself the reason of any thing which he did not quite understand; and
she asked, whether either of the children recollected to have seen,
when the sea was clear, animals of a jelly-like substance, many of them
with long tentaculæ, or arms, which they kept waving in all directions.
“Yes,” said Lewis, “we have seen them. One of the boatmen told us they
were called falling-stars.”
“True, many of them are marked with a cross or star, and they reflect
the sun’s rays in a beautiful manner. These jelly-fish, or more
properly Medusæ, are, with many other marine animals, luminous in the
dark, and look, as you have seen, like so many thousands of sparkling
gems. There is one little animal of this kind, of which I recollect
reading a very interesting account. It is called, the purple-ocean or
blue snail-shell; and is plentifully supplied with a juice which is
very luminous in the dark.”
“Oh! mamma,” said Edward, “do you think if we go down to the beach
to-morrow morning, there will be a chance of our finding any?”
“No, my dear, this little wanderer of the deep never approaches the
shore unless it be accidentally. Unlike many other small shell-fish,
which attach themselves to rocks, it is furnished with a house that is
extremely thin and light, and I think it will amuse you to hear of
the curious contrivance, by which it is enabled either to remain on
the surface of the water or descend below it. It is endowed with the
wonderful power of raising at will a tiny bag inflated with air, by
means of which it floats; but, when to descend is the object, it is
lowered or cast off, and the little animal disappears. They are often
seen by voyagers floating together in great numbers, many hundred miles
from land.”
“How surprising!” said Edward, “and how beautiful they must look,
either by night or day! But I need not wish to go abroad for the sake
of the purple-ocean snail-shell, when I can see so grand a sight at
home.”
Mrs. Ashton told Edward it was wise to endeavour to be contented with
our situation, whatever it may be, and not to spoil our enjoyment of
the pleasures within our reach, by wishing for those which we cannot
attain; but, she added, we must not forget the obligations we are under
to those adventurous spirits, who delight to brave dangers in search of
what is new and curious; while we, who remain quietly at home, reap the
fruits of their labours and experience.
Lewis thought there must be quite as much pleasure in travelling as
would compensate for the danger and toil: “So, Edward,” he said, “when
I am a man and a traveller, I will send you home specimens of birds,
beasts, and fishes; and you may class and arrange them all to your
heart’s content; for that is dull work, if you please.”
Here their mother warned them that it was long past the usual time for
their retiring to rest.
“Mamma,” said Edward, “may I ask you one thing before we go? Will you
let me hear those lines you were repeating to papa the other day; there
was something about striking the waves with an oar, and the cold flame
flashing along the hand, which I could not at all understand: but now,
I think I know what it meant.”
“I will repeat them with pleasure, my love,” said his mother, “they
describe the very scene which has delighted you so much:—
‘See, as they float along, the entangled weeds
Slowly approach, upborne on bladdery beads:
Wait till they land, and you shall then behold
The fiery sparks those tangled frons’ infold,
Myriads of living points; th’ unaided eye
Can but the fire and not the form descry.
And now your view upon the ocean turn,
And there the splendour of the waves discern;
Cast but a stone, or strike them with an oar,
And you shall flames within the deep explore;
Or scoop the stream phosphoric as you stand,
And the cold flames shall flash along your hand;
When, lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze
On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that blaze.’
CRABBE.