Alice and Beatrice

								

digging, they asked Mary if they might look for pretty stones, and
shells, and sea-weed.
There were plenty of pretty stones and sea-weed, and even shells, to be
found. Some of the shells were pretty and white and smooth, and the
children took great care of them, and took them home to play with. They
often found sea-weeds of all colours, red and yellow, green and brown,
and some sea-weeds were small and fine, like hair or moss; and
grandmamma helped them to dry them, and put them on paper. There was
another kind of sea-weed that was very long and heavy, and looked like
large black rushes. Mary told them not to take those home, for they were
not nice, and they could not be dried.
One day Alice found a pretty stone, or pebble, as it is called: it was
very clear, not quite so clear as glass; but when she held it towards
the sun, she could see through it.
‘I will take the pretty stone home, Mary,’ said Alice, ‘and give it dear
mamma.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Mary, ‘your mamma will have it cut and polished for a
brooch.’
‘Yes, I am sure she will,’ cried Alice; ‘I am so glad that I have found
it!’ and Alice put it into her pocket.
‘I will try and find a pretty stone too for mamma,’ said Beatrice, and
she ran along the sand, close to the waves: and just when Mary called
her to come away, a large wave came higher up than the others had done
before, and wetted little Beatrice’s shoes and socks.
Beatrice ran back to Mary, and she was a little frightened, and she
said, ‘Mary, I did not hear you call me till that big wave came up to my
feet, and I could not run away quick enough, and my feet are so wet.’
‘We must go home directly, Miss Beatrice,’ said Mary, ‘and make haste
and change your shoes and socks;’ and they went home.
Another day they went to the beach again, and their grandmamma went with
them. As they went through the pretty garden, they stopped to look at
the rose-trees that were beginning to bloom; and grandmamma gave Alice a
white rose and Beatrice a dark-red one. She cut off the thorns from the
stalks, and Beatrice asked her, ‘Why do you cut off those things,
grandmamma?’
‘Those things are called thorns, my dear child; they would prick your
fingers, for they are very sharp.’
The children looked at the thorns, and put their fingers to them, and
said, ‘They prick like needles.’ They thanked her for the roses, and
smelt them, for they were very sweet.
They went on to the gate, and then grandmamma opened it, and gave
Beatrice her hand across the narrow bridge, and down the steep path, and
the many steps.
Alice ran on alone, jumping along, and pulling some wild flowers that
grew in the grass on each side the path, and she came first to the
beach, and then ran back to meet her grandmamma and little sister.
When they came to the sea-shore, they saw that Mary was there waiting
for them with a large basket. They knew that the basket was full of