revealed by the spade is some two
centuries later in date than St. Piran, the patron saint of the Tinners.

[Illustration: IN ST. IVES HARBOUR]

"There is a charm in the Cornish coast which belongs to no other coast
in the world." So wrote Dean Alford many years ago, and no portion of
Cornwall possesses greater charm than the section as seen from Newquay
Beacon. Like so many of its neighbouring holiday resorts, Newquay was a
very small and not very well known little place until the Great Western
Railway gave it four trains a day from London, advertised its charms in
the press, and depicted them in glowing colours on innumerable posters.
The result is that Newquay has boomed to such an extent that it is now
the great centre of attraction on the north coast. Twenty years ago
Newquay was little more than a cluster of cottages, but so rapid has
been its development that we seem to be centuries away from the days
when there was no fashionable hotel on the Headland, and when the place
was reached along a jolting little mineral line from Par Junction.

The town itself is not old enough to be interesting, and as it possesses
no "front" but few of its streets command a view of the bold
promontories, fine beaches, tidal inlets, and the singularly blue sea,
that make it such an attractive place for a holiday.

As Mr. J. Henwood Thomas says: "One of the chief glories of Newquay is
its grand headland. Running right out into the Atlantic it forms a bold,
natural pier, in comparison with which the costly artificial piers which
are to be found at most watering-places of repute are mere toys. Nothing
can be more exhilarating than a walk to the extreme end of this jagged
promontory. It is like breathing a vitalizing essence."

Here, on the beaches of Newquay and Fistral Bay, one may go to the
verge of the waves, and breathe the ozone that rises from the line of
breakers, without the necessity of making detours to avoid fruit-stalls
and bathing-saloons. Fortunately the fine sands around Newquay have not
yet become a mart for sweetmeats and cocoanuts, nor are they the happy
hunting ground of the negro minstrel and other troupes of fantastic
entertainers.

The chief, and one might say the only glory of North Cornwall, is the
magnificent line of coast, particularly that portion of it bounded by
Bedruthan Steps on the one hand, and Watergate Bay on the other, with
Mawgan Porth and Beacon Cove lying between.

At low tides Watergate Bay