affords a large extent of sheltered water where ships may lie at anchor, safe from winds and waves, and also by taking in and pouring out a vast quantity of tidal water twice in twentyfour hours, it keeps the channels of ingress and egress open, and deep enough for vessels to pass in and out.

The other place—the one in which the reservoir of tidal water to make the channels is a river, is at Southampton. Both these places are on the English side of the Solent-as the channel or passage way between England and the Isle of Wight is called. They are different from each other, not only from the fact that in one the deep channels are produced by a lake, and in the other by a river, but also in the use that is made of them; for one of these harbors, Southampton, has been taken possession of by private merchants, and the other by the British government. Thus one is used for the coming and going of merchant ships, and the other, Portsmouth, for ships of war.

Both these harbors, as has already been remarked, are on the northern side of the channel separating England from the Isle of Wight, that is on the main land as it may be called. There is also another harbor on the south side, that is on the Isle of Wight itself. This other

harbor is at the entrance of a river-the principal river on the island-which flows north from the centre of it and empties into the channel which separates the island from the main land almost opposite to the Southampton. The town which has grown up near the deep water here is called Cowes.

It must not be supposed that the formation of channels of deep water near the land, to serve for the entrance of ships, depends entirely upon the causes I have described. A great deal, in many cases, depends upon the character and conformation of the coast, as, for instance, whether the rocks which form the shore are hard and steep, or whether they are shelving or soft and easily undermined. Then, moreover, in some cases where rivers empty into the sea, and one might expect a deep channel to be formed, the neighboring shores are formed of sand banks or of rocks so easily crumbled that the passage ways for the water become very much choked up, and the ingress and egress of the water can not keep them free. Thus, except Cowes, there are scarcely any good harbors in the Isle of Wight. There are many small rivers running into the sea on different sides of the island, but the channels formed at the mouths of them are not deep enough for much else than

fishing-boats, and yachts, and small coasting sloops and schooners. At every other part of the island the bottom of the sea slopes off very gradually from the shore. In some places it forms splendid beaches of smooth sand and pebbles; and here towns are built for the accommodation of people coming to bathe.

CHAPTER VI.

TO PORTSMOUTH.

WHEN Grimkie explained to Florence all that he had learned from his conversation with Boots at the hotel, and showed her the places on the map, and pointed out the two ways of going to the Isle of Wight, one of which was by the way of Portsmouth, and thence to Ryde, and the other by way of Southampton, and thence to Cowes, Florence was at first undecided which way to take.

"I vote for the longest way," said John, “so that we can have more sailing."

"By the way of Southampton there is a water passage of thirteen miles," said Grimkie, "and by Portsmouth the water passage is only six miles."

"Then we must go by the way of Portsmouth," said Florence.

"Oh no,'

" said John.

"You will like a great

deal better to go by way of Southampton, I

know, and so sail all the way down this long river."

So John pointed to the map, and moved his finger down the broad estuary or bay called Southampton Water, along which it was evident the steamer must go, in proceeding from Southampton to Cowes.*

"Ah! but, Johnny,” replied Florence," the question is not what we like the best, but what mother will like best. She will like best the shortest sea voyage."

"It is very disinterested and generous in you," said Grimkie, "to think about Aunt Katie so much, and not about yourself."

"No," said Florence, "it is not disinterestedness or generosity at all. It is only selfishness. I want to plan the journey in the best way for mother, so that she may trust the planning to us again some other time. If we plan for ourselves altogether, and don't consider what she will like, then the next time she will decide for herself, and will not leave it to us at all."

"True," said Grimkie. "But in this case I don't know which, after all, Aunt will prefer. The voyage is twice as long by the way of Southampton, it is true, but then it is all the way in sheltered water. It is thirteen miles, and that will take us about an hour, I suppose.

* See the map, Chapter VII.