Once, while Henry was looking one way and running the other, he came against the front of a little rock which rose through the sand, and narrowly escaped a good ducking. Another time he stood on the top of a little rock which rose like an island through the sand, hoping that the water would surround him. For several minutes he waited very patiently, but the waves always stopped before they reached him. At last, just as he had grown tired, there came a ninth wave, which not only surrounded him, but rose so high as to dash against his legs. Whether he was frightened, or the water was too strong for him to stand against, I do not know, but he sprang off and ran towards the land, wet nearly up to his knees. It was now high water; and as Henry belonged to that class of boys who like fresh air, exercise, and bread-and-butter, he gladly heard the proposal to find a good place where they might sit down to dinner. They had not to go far. Not a hundred yards off, a small stream came tumbling over the cliff among some large stones, and, after flowing for a short distance, sank into the sand before it reached the sea. Towards this they made their way, frequently picking up shells and other things which had been washed in by the waves, but throwing them all away again, because the basket in which they were to be stowed away had yet to be emptied. A large stone, with a towel spread on it, was the table, and stones served as seats. The dinner consisted of some slices of cold tongue, and a hunch of bread. The stream supplied plenty of clear and cold water, and this was the only part of the feast of which much was left. “And now,” said Mr. Miller, “that we have made room in our basket, let us search for curiosities.” [Illustration: SHELL OF CUTTLE-FISH.] High up on the sands, and close to the late dining-room, lay a number of white, flat substances, which puzzled Henry as much as the purse of the skate had done. They were oval in shape, and about the size of his foot. One side was hard and rough, the other smoother, and soft enough to be scratched by the finger-nail. Whether they were bones or shells he could not tell. “This,” said Mr. Miller, “is the backbone of a cuttle-fish. The animal, when alive, is soft, and nearly transparent. It has a large head, on which there are a number of long arms stretching out. It lives on small fish, which it chases, and then catches hold of by the help of many small suckers on its arms. When chased itself, it spurts out a quantity of black fluid, like ink, making the water so thick and dark that its enemy loses sight of it, and is obliged to give up the chase. Often, when I have been fishing from a boat, a cuttle-fish has followed a fish which I have caught, up to the very surface of the water, and sometimes I have caught the cuttle-fish itself, by darting into it a hook fastened to the end of a stick. [Illustration: CUTTLE-FISH AND EGGS.]