Consequences of carelessness.—Beach at Shanklin.—Lobster- pots.—Planorbis.—Marsh-snail.—Sea-rocket.—Starfish.—Crabs and Lobsters.—Seaweed—Mode of drying it.—Mussels.—Shanklin Chine.—The split shoe.—Shops at Shanklin.

When the carriage stopped at Williams’ Hotel at Shanklin, Mrs. Merton asked Agnes what had become of her little pink silk handkerchief. Agnes mechanically put her hand to her neck; but, alas! no handkerchief was there. It was gone; and, though Agnes knew nothing about it, the probability was, that, at that very moment, it was dangling from one of the rough corners of the pulpit-stone. Agnes was quite in despair when this thought struck her; and she was most anxious to go back to seek it; but this Mrs. Merton would not hear of.

“No,” said she; “I could forgive any loss that happened accidentally; but this was from downright carelessness.”

Agnes was excessively vexed, and could not help crying; as the handkerchief had been given to her by her aunt Jane, and was a great favourite: Mrs. Merton, however, paid no attention to her tears, but walked into the inn with her husband, leaving poor Agnes to follow by herself. The little girl felt this neglect bitterly, and she wept so much before she could summon courage to appear again before her mother, that the mistress of the house, who was a very good-natured person, on her return from showing Mr. and Mrs. Merton to a room, began to pity the poor child, and advised her to go into the garden for a few minutes to recover herself. Agnes complied, and sat down, very sorrowfully, under a tree within sight of the window of the room in which her parents were. What appeared to Agnes a tremendously long time passed before they appeared to notice her; but at last Mrs. Merton, having placed her husband comfortably on the sofa, opened the glass door of their room, and walked across the lawn to where Agnes sat. The little girl started up immediately, and, meeting her mother, begged to be forgiven.

“I will not promise never to lose anything again,” said she; “but, if you will but forgive me, mamma, I will never again be inattentive to your advice.”

Mrs. Merton kissed her; and, telling her that was all that could be expected of a child of her age, proposed a walk to the beach. Agnes gladly complied; and the good-natured landlady seemed quite pleased when Mrs. Merton inquired what road they were to take, to see that the poor little culprit had been forgiven. In compliance with the directions they had received, they walked first up a short lane, till they came to an open shop dignified by the name of a bazaar, opposite to which was another lane which led down a steep hill to the beach.

“What a dreadful hill!” cried Agnes; “how shall we ever get up it again? Do look, mamma, at those horses, how they are striving to drag that cart up the hill; and yet it cannot be very heavy, for it is full of nothing but sea-weed. What can they be going to do with so much sea-weed?”

“Have you forgotten that I told you sea-weed is often used as manure?”

“I had forgotten it, I declare. It seems such a strange thing to use as manure. But look, mamma, what a fine view we have of the sea here? and yet how high we still are above it.”

The descent now became more rapid; and Agnes ran down the remainder of the road, which, after various windings, at last conducted them to the beach. When they reached it, and looked back at the cliffs, they found the scene very striking. A long, almost perpendicular line of rocks spread along, as far as they could see, occasionally jutting out almost to the sea, and then falling back in deep bays. The face of the cliff was of a pale brown, or yellow ochre colour, streaked with a deeper or red shade. After looking around for a few minutes, Agnes cried, “mamma, do you remember that scene in the Antiquary, where Isabella and her father are surprised by the coming in of the tide, and in great danger of being drowned? I think it must have been in such a place as this.”

Mrs. Merton was about to reply, when Agnes’s attention was attracted by some curious-looking wicker-work cages which lay in a heap at the end of the terrace on which they had been walking. “What can these be?” cried she. A boy who was lying beside them, and tying them together with pieces of string, looked up in her face, without disturbing himself, and answered, “they are lobster-pots.”

“Pots!” repeated Agnes: “I think they are more like baskets than pots. And why are these snails put in them?”

“They are the bait,” said the boy, without even looking at her this time.

“Do look, mamma,” said Agnes, “what enormous snails! And here is a large flat snail like that Susan found for me in the kitchen, only it is such a great deal larger.”

“That shell was placed among the snails by LinnÆus,” said Mrs. Merton; “but it is now called Planorbis, or the coil-shell. Look what a horny, almost transparent, substance it has; indeed, I believe it is sometimes called the Horny Snail. It does not live in the sea; but it is found in ditches, or any stagnant water that is nearly dry in summer. When attacked, it emits a dark reddish liquid, to hide itself from its enemies, by rendering the water so dark that it cannot be seen.”

“How clever!”

“Instinct teaches many molluscous animals to do the same. The violet snail emits a beautiful lilac fluid; and the cuttle-fish a liquid as black as ink. But this is not all that I have to tell you about the Planorbis: it lays its eggs upon a leaf, where they look like those of the spider, or of some kind of insect.”

“Look mamma! Here is another shell, quite different from the Planorbis.”

“It is different in shape, but it is nearly allied in other respects, for that is the Marsh-snail, or Lymnea. Some of the species of this genus crawl with their backs downwards along the under surface of the water, if I may so describe it, just as you have seen a snail crawl on a glass; and the species of the genus Physa, which is another little black fresh-water-snail, not only creep in the manner I have described, but let themselves down by a thread in the water, just as you may have seen some kinds of caterpillars do on land.”

As they strolled along the beach they noticed several immense plants of Sea-rocket, which grew close to the cliffs, and some of the fleshy leaves of which Agnes gathered and ate. “I know I am safe in eating this,” said she; “because I see by the four opposite petals of the flower that it is one of the CruciferÆ, or cabbage-tribe, and I know the plants of that tribe are wholesome.”

“Take care, however, lest you should some day find that though the Cruciferous plants are eatable they are not always agreeable; for, remember, Horseradish, and some other pungent plants, belong to that tribe: but I am glad to find that you have remembered what I told you about the shape of the flowers, which are called cruciferous, or cross-bearing, from their four petals being arranged in the form of a Greek cross.”

Agnes now found a specimen of the Star-fish, or five-fingers, a species of which she had often seen in Scotland; but she did not attempt to pick it up, as she remembered that one she found at Dunbar began to decay before she could reach the inn. She stood, however, looking at it, and her mother, who told her these Star-fishes were usually only caught in the Northern seas, made her remark its mouth, or rather the opening to its short bag-like stomach, which is placed in the very centre of the rays; and the numerous holes through which the creature could project its feet, having the power of shortening or extending them at pleasure, and also of adhering, by the flat disk at their base, to any substance it might be near; the part which may be called the sole of the foot, acting like a sucker.

“What poor helpless creatures these Star-fish seem to be!” said Agnes; “I wonder how they contrive to live, for they seem to have no means of catching anything.”

“You will be surprised, then, to hear that they are accused of catching oysters; and that it is asserted in many books on natural history, that there was formerly a penalty inflicted by the Admiralty Court on every dredger who caught a Star-fish and did not kill it.”

“But how could the poor Star-fish, with its soft body, attack an oyster, protected as it is by two strong shells?”

“It was said to wait till the oyster gaped, and then to thrust one of its rays in between the valves to suck out the oyster.”

“Oh, mamma!” cried Agnes, laughing; “how very stupid the oyster must have been not to shut its shell and crush the ray, instead of letting itself be sucked out!”

“The story is as old as Aristotle; and, like many other stories told by the ancients, it has been handed down to our times, without any one, till lately, taking the trouble to examine whether it was true or false. I believe the fact is, that when oysters or any other molluscous animals become sickly, they are attacked by Star-fish and other similar creatures, just as a dying snail is attacked and devoured by slugs; but I think with you, that if a Star-fish were bold enough to attack a healthy oyster, it would soon have reason to repent it.”

“I have often thought, mamma,” said Agnes; “what miserable lives oysters and other similar creatures must lead in the sea; fixed as they are to rocks, and incapable of hearing or seeing anything around them.”

“You forget,” replied her mother, “how often I have told you that our Beneficent Creator has provided not only for the nourishment, but for the enjoyments of all his creatures. I think it is Paley who remarks, that when we recollect the happiness we feel when in perfect health and high spirits, without any particular cause, we may easily comprehend the enjoyments of the inferior animals.”

“I can understand that, mamma; and so I suppose that these poor oysters enjoy the warmth of the sun and the flowing of the tide, as much as I do the fresh breeze when it blows against me as I run.”

“Exactly so. Every creature has a capability of happiness adapted to the situation in which it is placed; and when we do not perceive how this is effected, we may rest assured that the fault is in ourselves, and not in the system of Nature.”

While they were conversing in this manner, they had strolled to a considerable distance along the beach, and were beginning to think of turning back, as they were going from the Chine, which they intended to visit before they returned to the inn, when Agnes’s attention was attracted by a splendid mass of tangle, that had been thrown on the beach by the sea; and catching hold of it, she picked up at the same time a little crab not bigger than the end of her finger. The little crab was of a pale yellow, and as soon as it was caught, it began to run sideways as fast as possible. Agnes had often heard of crabs running sideways, but she had never seen one do so before; and the motions of this little creature struck her as so very odd that she burst into a violent fit of laughter. Mrs. Merton came up to know what was the matter; and when she saw the little crab running sideways as fast as possible with only half of its legs, and then back with the other half, she could not forbear smiling also. The next moment, however, she checked herself.

“We ought not to laugh at this little creature,” said she, “since there is nothing really ridiculous that is natural; but it only strikes us as absurd because we are not used to it.”

“What curious creatures crabs are!” cried Agnes.

“They are called Crustaceous animals,” returned her mother, “because they are covered with a crust or shell; and they are said to be articulated, because their limbs are jointed so that they can throw one off without suffering much inconvenience.”

“Lobsters can do the same thing, can they not?”

“Yes, they also belong to the Crustacea, and so do shrimps, and prawns, and cray-fish, besides many other creatures you are not acquainted with. All the Crustacea have also the power of throwing off their shells when they have grown too large for them, and forming new ones, as I think I explained to you some years ago when we were speaking of cray-fish.”

“They must suffer a great deal of pain when they change their shells.”

“They do; and some are said even to die under the operation; but I suppose they must also suffer a good deal from the old shell being too tight for them, before they throw it off.”

Agnes now picked up some sea-weed which struck her as being like what her mother had once taken, boiled with milk, for a troublesome cough.

“It is the same,” said Mrs. Merton; “the popular name is Carrageen, or Irish moss, but it is a kind of Fucus.”

“And what is this pale brown?” asked Agnes.

“That is called Duck’s Foot Conferva,” said Mrs. Merton, “and when burnt it smells like lemons; but it is not a true Conferva.”

“Do look at this beautiful pink sea-weed, mamma,” said Agnes.

“That is called Delesseria by botanists,” said Mrs. Merton, “but I do not know its English name. It is very beautiful from its delicate texture, and its brilliant colour. Its seeds are produced on the back of the leaves, or fronds, as in ferns.”

“I should like to take some of it,” said Agnes,—“may I?”

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Merton, “but take great care in drying it, as it is very apt to adhere to the paper. I think you know how to dry sea-weed.”

“Oh! yes,” said Agnes, “Miss Green taught me. You first put the sea-weed in water, and then put a piece of writing paper under it, so as to let the plant lie upon the paper as it did in the water; and then you take it up carefully, so as to let the water run off without disturbing the plant.”

“You are quite right,” said Mrs. Merton; “but you must observe that some sea-weeds are spoiled by putting them into fresh water, and will change their colour, while others will crackle, when taken out, like salt when thrown on a fire. Some kinds, when laid on a plate in fresh water, will start and curl up as if they were alive; and nearly all sea animals, such as the Star-fish we saw just now, are killed instantly by putting them into fresh water. However, to return to the sea-weed, I am so well pleased at your remembering what was told you, that I will give you some more paper to dry your sea-weed on, if you should not have enough; and you may gather as much as you like.”

Agnes did not suffer this permission to lie dormant; and she gathered sea-weed of a great variety of shades of pink, brown, green, black, and even white; as, however, she could not carry half the quantity she had collected, her mother promised to bring her back to the beach the following morning, if the weather should be fine, when she might provide herself with a basket.

They now found the tide coming in so rapidly that they judged it most prudent to return; though Agnes, who was fond of excitement, would willingly have gone on a little farther, in spite of the danger; which, indeed, was not very great, as the tide seldom rises very high on the back of the Isle of Wight, and there was a considerable space between the cliffs and the shore. The billows, however, came in with considerable force, and they brought with them a piece of board that looked as if it had belonged to a ship. Agnes picked it up, and found some Mussels sticking to it; one of which was attached by what looked like a tuft of coarse brown thread; but, when she asked what it was, her mother smiled, and told her it was the Byssus.

“The Byssus!” cried Agnes: “I thought that was produced by the Pinna, or Sea-wing. Don’t you remember, mamma, showing me a pair of gloves made of the Byssus of the Pinna at the British Museum? I am sure you said the Pinna.”

“I remember it perfectly; but other shell-fish produce Byssus besides the Pinna.”

“Indeed! and are gloves made of it?”

“I believe not; because it is not produced in other shell-fish in sufficient quantities.”

“Do not some Mussels produce pearls?” asked Agnes.

“Those are the River Mussels,” said Mrs. Merton. “Remember that there are several kinds of Mussels: as, for example, the River Mussel, or Unio, which produces what are called British pearls, and which is common in many British rivers, particularly in the Conway, in Wales, and in the Tay, in Scotland; the Sea Mussel, or Mytilus, the animal of which is eaten, and which produces the Byssus; and the Horse Mussel, or Modiola. The kind you have found, however, belongs to none of these, as it is a freshwater species generally found in docks; and it must have adhered to some vessel that has been shipwrecked here soon after it left the dock in which it had been repaired.”

“Oh! mamma, don’t talk of shipwrecks,” cried Agnes, shuddering.

They had now reached a little terrace, raised to a considerable height above the beach, where there was a little shop, the proprietor of which sold fruit, and also engravings of various kinds, in the manner which seems fashionable at Shanklin; as the shops there generally contain articles of the most heterogeneous kinds. Here Mrs. Merton inquired the way to the Chine, and they were directed to apply at a little cottage a good way farther up the beach. They did so; and a most uncivil person came out, who, unlocking a gate, told them to go through there, and then left them to find their way how they could. They went straight on along a narrow path, which was exceedingly slippery and disagreeable from the recent rains, and they soon came to a place where the road divided into two, and they did not know which way to take. As Mrs. Merton was very much fatigued by the want of sleep the previous night, Agnes ran forward along one of the paths, while Mrs. Merton waited her return. She soon came back, saying that the path merely led to a seat; but, as she descended the hill, Mrs. Merton noticed that her shoe had burst open behind, and that she had great difficulty in keeping it on her foot.

“My dear Agnes,” said her mother, “these shoes were never intended for walking along such roads as these. Why did you not put on your walking-shoes?”

Agnes looked at her feet in dismay; for, alas! the walking-shoes had been left at Black Gang Chine. They had been very wet the preceding evening; and when they were brought up after being cleaned, they felt so damp that Agnes begged to have them dried, intending to put them on just before she came away; but this she had forgotten to do; and her present shoes, being totally unfit for walking on wet clayey soil, had burst open in the manner described.

“What shall I do, mamma?” said Agnes: “I think I must try to fasten my shoe together with a pin.”

Mrs. Merton smiled and shook her head; but, as no better means presented themselves, the pin was obliged to be used.

They now walked on very uncomfortably; the pin pricked Agnes every step she took; and her shoe was so loose that she had the greatest difficulty to prevent it from falling off. She was, besides, encumbered with her sea-weed, and some engravings they had purchased at the little shop on the beach for aunt Jane, though of these last her mamma soon relieved her. Mrs. Merton, on her part, did not feel much more inclined to enjoy the beauties of the Chine than her poor little daughter, for the path was very narrow, and was not only wet and slippery from the recent rains, but in some places had given way altogether, and been rudely propped up with the branch of a tree, apparently just cut down for the purpose. Several other paths also branched off from that which appeared the principal one, and thus the constant fear of having to retrace their steps was mingled with their other troubles. What is called a Chine in the Isle of Wight, means a cleft in the rocks, which has been produced by the action of a stream running through them, and thus, wherever there is a Chine, there is always a stream of water running into the sea. At Shanklin Chine the cleft has penetrated to a considerable depth into the rocks; and thus a deep ravine is formed, on one side of which the rock is almost perpendicular, while on the other it shelves gently downward, and is covered with trees and bushes, among which are a few cottages very picturesquely placed. The cascade is somewhat larger than that at Black Gang Chine; but still it possessed very little grandeur, and Mrs. Merton and Agnes were both very glad when they reached it to see a girl approaching with a key in her hand to let them out, as it was a proof that they had nearly reached the end of the Chine. They had still, however, a flight of broken, slippery steps to ascend, after which they found themselves once more on solid ground. Mrs. Merton’s object was now to get her little daughter a pair of shoes, or boots; as, though she generally wished Agnes to suffer a little when she left anything behind from want of care, she considered the melancholy scene they had witnessed at Black Gang Chine was sufficient to excuse a little forgetfulness. They therefore walked into the village to find a shoe-shop; but this was a very difficult task. They were first directed to a shop where the people sold eggs and bacon, cheese and butter, intermixed with articles of haberdashery, and boots and shoes; but, unfortunately, there were none there that fitted Agnes; and they had to walk a long way on the dusty road, and even to pass through a turnpike, before Agnes could obtain a pair of boots to suit her; but she could not help sighing as they retraced their steps back to the inn, and frequently exclaiming, “How glad I am, mamma, that we do not live at Shanklin!”