"
Besides the pilgrimages in search of shells, another pursuit was
inaugurated by my mother, in her breathlessly calm way, which was the
finding of multitudinous seaweeds of every eccentricity of style. The
Yankee elm, the English oak, the kitchen-garden herb, or Italian
stone-pine, the fern, and tresses, as they seemed, of women's fair or
dusky hair, were all so cleverly imitated by the seaweeds that one
might have supposed them to be the schoolbooks of the sea; or the
latest news there, regarding the nature of the dry world. Many spare
moments were given to mounting these pretty living pictures of
growths. My lack of success in producing a single very neat specimen
was, I grieve to admit, hardly bettered by any of us; my father
joining in the scientific excess only so far as to turn his luminous
eyes upon our enthusiasm, with his genial "h'm-m" of permission.
Excursions were made to Whitby, Wilton Castle, and other places; and I
made an excursion on my own account, which kept me lame for some time.
"Rose fell and hurt her knees and elbow, following a monkey." But my
most considerate mother would never have let me perceive the humorous
and possibly unintelligent aspect of my adventurous spirit; and the
next day she tenderly inscribes the historical fact, "Poor baby lame."
Here are a few words of testimony, from my sister, to the charm of
this shore:--
REDCAR, October 4, 1859.
Our last day in Redcar, dearest aunt Lizzie; and a most lovely one it
is.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337