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.”