re were only a few cottages on a sandbank, a small stream,
and a decoy pond in the neighbourhood. By keeping out of the tide we
made some way, and now standing to the southward on the port tack we
came off Poole Harbour, looking up which we could see the woods and a
house on Branksea Island, and the tower of what was once a castle
erected for the defence of the place.

We were told that this island was purchased several years ago by a
colonel who married a rich heiress. The place was believed to contain
valuable clay and other productions; and a firm of bankers, having
begged the colonel to become one of their directors, allowed him to draw
whatever amount he chose. Believing himself to be possessed of
unbounded wealth, he built a superb house and laid out the grounds in
splendid style, giving all sorts of expensive entertainments. At length
the bank broke, the bubble burst, and the unhappy man was reduced to the
extreme of penury, while numbers of unfortunate people who had invested
their money in the bank were ruined.

We did not sail up the harbour; but Paul Truck told us that the town is
of considerable size, and that it sends out a large number of trading
vessels.

Passing two high white rocks rising out of the water, called Old Harry
and his Wife, we stood on into Swanage Bay, where we brought-up just off
the little town. The boat was lowered, and we pulled to the end of the
wooden pier, on which we landed; although Oliver said we could not call
it landing, seeing that it was not land. However, we soon got on to the
shore. As we looked about we agreed that it was one of the prettiest
little places we had been in.

To the left was a bright lawn, with trees here and there, and villas
dotted about. Some houses extend along the shore to the right, while an
old-fashioned looking street runs up the hill. We observed large
quantities of slabs of stone, which are quarried from the hills in the
neighbourhood. The ground beyond the town is completely burrowed, like
a huge rabbit-warren, and near the mouth of each quarry are huts and
sheds, where the stone, which is brought up in the rough, is worked into
shape. The men, instead of being blackened like coal-miners, are
covered with white dust.

This portion of the country is called the Isle of Purbeck, although it
is in reality a peninsula. It is bounded on the north by Poole Harbour
and the river which passes Wareham, while the sea is on the two other
side