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Brazil, Angela, 1868-1947

"Monitress Merle"

All immediately began to
wind up their lines.
"The tide's coming in fast, and we're close to the blow-hole," said
Mavis. "It seems a pity not to stop and watch it."
The blow-hole was a curious natural phenomenon. The sea, pouring into a
narrow gully, forced air and water to spurt through an opening at certain
intervals. First a low groaning noise was heard, which waxed louder and
louder until--so Beata declared--it resembled the snoring of Father
Neptune. Then suddenly a shower of spray spurted from the aperture, the
sunshine lighting it with all the prismatic colours of the rainbow. For a
few seconds it played like a fountain, then died down as the wave
receded. The girls were so interested in watching it that they quite
forgot the sea behind them. While their backs were turned to it, the
great strong tide was lapping and swelling in, moving higher and higher
up the rocks, and covering the pools, and creeping into the cove, and
changing the sand and seaweed into a lake. When Mavis happened to look
round she found her basket floating.


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