for the first time in our lives, and oranges, the finest in the world.

Those who have been long at sea know how pleasant it is to walk once
more upon the land. It is one of the brightest of the Everlasting
flowers in the garland of Memory.

We walked along the sea-beach, as people so circumstanced must ever
do, full of gladsome fancies. There was delight for us in the varied
shells at our feet; in the curious skeletons of small fishes,
untimely deceased; in the fantastic forms of the drifted sea-weed; in
the gentle ripple of the companionable waves by our side. And little
Fig, the spaniel, was no less pleased then ourselves. He ran before
us rejoicing in his fleetness; and he ran back again in a moment to
tell us how glad he was. Then as a wave more incursive than its
predecessor unexpectedly wetted his feet, he would droop his tail and
run faster with alarm, until the sight of some bush or bough, left
high and dry by the last tide, awakened his nervous suspicions, and
dreading an ambuscade, he would stop suddenly and bark at the
dreadful object, until we arrived at his side, when, wagging his tail
and looking slyly up with his joyous eyes, he would scamper away
again as though he would have us believe he had been all the time
only in fun.

What profound satisfaction is there in the freedom of land after so
long a confinement! The sunshine that makes joyous every object
around us finds its way into the deeps of the heart.

And now we determined to bathe. So we crossed over a jutting rock,
on the other side of which was a beautiful and secluded little bay,
so sheltered that the waves scarcely rippled as they came to kiss the