“I like birds and things, and I’ve watched them a good deal, and then I like to be round out of doors. But I don’t care much to read about them; I’d rather just look at pictures, and then see for myself.”
“But a good naturalist must study and read, as well as watch.”
As Bess spoke they stepped out on the smooth, dry sand of the beach that stretched beyond them to the right and left in the form of a crescent, one of whose horns bore the white lighthouse, while the other ended in a pine grove. Before them, the little waves danced up and down in the sun, that was turning their green water to a living, moving gold, while here and there the white gulls rode smoothly on the water, or whirled above it in their flight. Across the harbor lay the crowded, fantastic cottages and the large hotel of the summer colony, now deserted and forlorn; while close at hand rose three or four rough, jagged rocks, with a narrow strip of sand connecting them with the beach.
“Let’s go out to the Black Rocks,” suggested Rob. “Maybe we can find some starfish. I
