CHAPTER IX.
ALL SANDY'S FAULT Everything was so different from the Connecticut verdure and underbrush.
Instead of the thick, lush growth which came from richly watered black loam, here one found sand cherries and little dwarf willows and beeches springing up from the sand.

Tall sword grass waved almost like Cousin Roxy's striped ribbon grass in the home garden, and wild sunflowers showed like golden glow here and there.
The beach was level and rockless, different entirely from the Eastern Atlantic shores, but the sand was beautifully white and fine, and there were great weather-beaten, wave-washed boulders lying half buried in the sand, also trunks of trees, their roots uprearing grotesquely like strange heads of animals.

Kit thought whimsically how the Dean might have added them with profit to his prehistoric collection.

There was no glimpse or hint of the town to be seen down here.

Not even a boat house, only one long pier.