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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Tides of Barnegat"

Under
their double lash the outer bar cowers and sinks;
the frightened sand flees hither and thither. Soon
the frenzied breakers throw themselves headlong,
tearing with teeth and claws, burrowing deep into the
hidden graves. Now the forgotten wrecks, like long-
buried sins, rise and stand naked, showing every scar
and stain. This is the work of the sea-puss--the
revolving maniac born of close-wed wind and tide;
a beast so terrible that in a single night, with its
auger-like snout, it bites huge inlets out of farm
lands--mouthfuls deep enough for ships to sail where
but yesterday the corn grew.
In the hull of this newly stranded sloop, then--
sitting high and dry, out of the reach of the summer
surf,--Tod and Archie spent every hour of the day
they could call their own; sallying forth on various
piratical excursions, coming back laden with driftwood
for a bonfire, or hugging some bottle, which was
always opened with trembling, eager fingers in the
inmost recesses of the Home, in the hope that some
tidings of a lost ship might be found inside; or with
their pockets crammed with clam-shells and other
sea spoils with which to decorate the inside timbers
of what was left of the former captain's cabin.


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