Читать книгу Pearls and Pebbles; or, Notes of an Old Naturalist - Catharine Parr Traill - Страница 7

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Although I lived the first few years of my childhood at Stowe House, near Bungay, in the lovely valley of the Waveney, most of my young life was spent at Reydon Hall, an old Elizabethan mansion in the eastern part of the county of Suffolk, and within easy walk of the sea-coast town of Southwold, now a much more frequented seaside resort than in former days.

Business or pleasure often led us to the town, and the beach was a great attraction and source of pleasure to my sisters and myself. We loved to watch the advance and recoil of the waves, the busy fishermen among their nets and boats, and the groups of happy children on the sands; but there was a greater fascination still to us in the search for treasures left by the flood-tide or cast upon the shore by the ever restless waves.

Sometimes there was little to reward the seekers, but hope was ever before us, and the finding of shining stones—red, yellow and white—bits of jet or amber, a shell or lovely sea-weed, to be deposited in bag or basket, would send us home jubilant to add to the hoarded store of fossils and other garnered treasures, or to show to the dear mother, who would turn the treasures over and say with a smile, "Let me see what precious pearls my Katie has found among her many pebbles hardly worth bringing home."

Still the time was not wholly wasted. Health and pleasure had been gained with my pebbles, and had there been but one pearl among them, the simple heart of the little maiden had been well content.

So, my readers, if you glean but one bright glad thought from the pages of my little volume, or add but one pearl to your store of knowledge from the experience of the now aged naturalist, she will not think the time wasted that has been spent in gathering the pebbles from note-book and journals written during the long years of her life in the backwoods of Canada.

"Westove," Lakefield,

September 20th, 1894.