Holidays at Brighton

by Anonymous

CHAPTER IV.

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.