There are four strange caves piercing St. Catharine's Island completely through from side to side. In rough weather the storming of the sea through these extraordinary tunnels creates a prodigious uproar. When the weather is still it is possible to take boat and sail quite through one of them: at low tide you may walk through. Marine zoological riches abound in these caverns, which have been for many years a real treasure-house for naturalists. The walls are studded with innumerable barnacles, dogwinkles and other shells--not dead and empty, but full of living creatures, requiring only the return of the tide to awaken them to an active existence. There are simply myriads of them: a random stone thrown against a wall will smash a whole colony; and there are besides polyps and sea-anemones and other strange animals of eccentric habits in unusual abundance. The visitors to Tenby find great diversion in these and the other caves on the coast: in fact, the whole coast as far as Milford Haven is one succession of natural curiosities and antiquities. One cavern bears the name of Merlin's Cave, and is hallowed by a legend of the enchanter, who was born at Carmarthen in the next county. WIRT SIKES. NOCTURNE. There'll come a day when the supremest splendor Of earth or sky or sea, Whate'er their miracles, sublime or tender, Will wake no joy in me. There'll come a day when all the aspiration, Now with such fervor fraught, As lifts to heights of breathless exaltation, Will seem a thing of naught. There'll come a day when riches, honor, glory, Music and song and art, Will look like puppets in a wornout story, Where each has played his part. There'll come a day when human love, the sweetest Gift that includes the whole Of God's grand giving--sovereignest, completest-- Shall fail to fill my soul. There'll come a day--I will not care how passes The cloud across my sight, If only, lark-like, from earth's nested grasses, I spring to meet its light. MARGARET J. PRESTON. THROUGH WINDING WAYS. CHAPTER IV.