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Banfield, E. J. (Edmund James), 1852-1923

"Confessions of a Beachcomber"

And when the sea casts up its gifts on these radiant shores, I
boldly and with glee give way to my beachcombing instincts and pick and
choose. Never ever up to the present have I found anything of real value;
but am I not buoyed up by pious hopes and sanguine expectations? Is not
the game as diverting and as innocent as many others that are played to
greater profit? It is a game, too, that cannot be forced, and therefore
cannot become demoralising; and having no nice feelings nor fine shades,
I rejoice and am glad in it.
And then what strange and varied things one sees! Once a "harness-cask,"
hostile to every sense, came trundled by waves eager to expel it from the
vicinity of these oxless but scented isles. It overcame us as we sailed
by, 20 yards off, and the general necessity for temperate diet and
restricted dishes came as a sweet and a comforting reflection. No marvel
if the ship whence it was ejected was in bad odour among the sailors.
Leaving, as it lurched along, a greasy, foul stain on the sea, it may
have poisoned multitudes of uncomplaining fishes during its evil course.
Occasionally a case of fruit, washed from the decks of a labouring
steamer, drifts ashore.


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