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Rh squall of silver pieces blown along the surface of the tide, with the noise and the upward-leaping drops of a ponderous, concentrated, and invisible shower.

"There 'll be good fishing to-night for those poor fellows over the hill," said Helen, "if these greedy herring-gulls don't eat it all."

Sure enough, a white flock of the lesser terns came wheeling, on bent, sickle wings, along the red face of the crags, and with mournful cat-calls pursued the shoal, poising, swerving, diving under water, to stagger into the air again, each with a glitter in its bill and a sprinkling of bright spray from its wings.

"I never liked them very much," she said, "since I read a fairy story, when I was a little girl, where they were persons transformed by a wicked queen. They 've always seemed uncanny. Is n't it queer? But they are really very white and clean; and, poor creatures, they live round these cold rocks, and their cries are so lonely."

The two had stood close together, frankly sharing their happiness in the sight, frankly