[Log4c-devel] th the shadows along the

[Lineman <vr...@co...>]

Like tracery. Its arched openings are hung with a tapestry of pink sea
moss, which swings back and forth to the action of the waves, as if
moved by some invisible hand. We get a glimpse, in passing, of the
interior view with its white, pebbly floor, in which the basket starfish
have possession--a fitting reception room for sea nymph or mermaid.
Pillars of stone incrusted with barnacles and periwinkles rise all
around, while long tendrils of sea ferns wave like banners around their
base. [Illustration: THE GLASS-BOTTOM BOAT] Our boatman tells us that we
are about to pass from "The Garden of the Sea Gods" into "Hell's
Half-Acre." What a change in a moment's time! A desert of rock tumbled
in a heterogeneous mass, all shapes and sizes, as if thrown by some
giant hand into grotesque and fantastic shapes. No wonder they gave it
such a gruesome name. In such a place one would expect to see the
bleaching bones of sailors, lost at sea, or the broken and dismantled
hulk of a galleon, half buried in the sand. A shadow crosses our vision,
and slowly there comes to our sight a shark, that scavenger of the deep,
a fitting spot for such as he to come upon the stage. Slowly he passes,
turning partly on his side, showing the cruel mouth with rows of s