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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
45
See,
close
by
is
another
shell
bed,
quite
as
large,
but
comely
enough
to
please
any
eye.
What
a
variety
of
forms
and
colours
are
there,
amid
the
purple
and
olive
wreaths
of
wrack,
and
bladder-weed,
and
tangle
(ore-weed,
as
they
call
it
in
the
south),
and
the
delicate
green
ribbons
of
the
Zostera
(the
only
English
flowering
plant
which
grows
beneath
the
sea).
What
are
they
all?
What
are
the
long
white
razors?
What
are
the
delicate
green-grey
scimitars?
What
are
the
tapering
brown
spires?
What
the
tufts
of
delicate
yellow
plants
like
squirrels’
tails,
and
lobsters’
horns,
and
tamarisks,
and
fir-trees,
and
all
other
finely
cut
animal
and
vegetable
forms?
What
are
the
groups
of
grey
bladders,
with
something
like
a
little
bud
at
the
tip?
What
are
the
hundreds
of
little
pink-striped
pears?
What
those
tiny
babies’
heads,
covered
with
grey
prickles
instead
of
hair?
The
great
red
star-fish,
which
Ulster
children
call
“the
bad
man’s
hands;”
and
the
great
whelks,
which
the
youth
of
Musselburgh
know
as
roaring
buckies,
these
we
have
seen
before;
but
what,
oh
what,
are
the
red
capsicums?—
Marker
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