sea, and divided from it by a labyrinth of streets and houses. But the sea was my delight; and I would often gladly pierce the town to obtain the pleasure of a walk beside it, whether with the pupils, or alone or with my mother during the vacations. It was delightful to me at all times and seasons, but especially in the wild commotion of a rough seabreeze, and in the brilliant freshness of a Summer morning.
I awoke early on the third morning after my return from Ashby Park. . .the sun was shining through the blind, and I thought how pleasant it would be to pass through the quiet town and take a solitary ramble on the sands while half the world was in bed. I was not long in forming the resolution, nor slow to act upon it. Of course I would not disturb my mother, so I stole noiselessly down stairs, and quietly unfastened the door. I was dressed, down, and out when the church clock struck a quarter to six.
There was a feeling of freshness and vigour in the very streets; and when I got free of the town, when my foot was on the sands and my face towards the broad, bright bay. . .no language can describe the effect of the deep,
