It is another
matter when Winter with his tempests comes roaring from the North. Where
are then the laughing waters and the smiling sunlit sands? Swallowed up
by wild seas with storm-tossed crests, that race madly landward to dash
themselves in blind fury on shoreless cliffs, or sweep resistless over a
shingly beach.
It is a cruel coast in the winter time, and its children had need be
strong men and fearless, for they who make their living on the face of
its waters surely inherit a share greater than is their due of toil and
danger; they, verily, more than others "see the works of the Lord, and
His wonders in the deep." From earliest times when men first sailed the
seas this coast has taken heavy toll of ships and of human lives, and in
the race that it has bred, necessarily there has been little room for
weaklings; their men are even to this day of the type of the old
Vikings--from whom perhaps they descend--fair-bearded and strong,
blue-eyed and open of countenance. And their women--well, there are many
who might worthily stand alongside their countrywoman, Grace Darling,
many who at a pinch would do what she did, and "blush to find it fame."
Yet one must admit that, as a whole, this community was not always keen
to save ship and crew from the breakers, nor prone to warn vessels off
from dangerous reef or sunken rock.
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