The first thing in the morning we set off to visit the Botallack mine, the machinery of which we could see perched among crags that looked almost inaccessible.  We had not time to go into the mine, which is carried far under the ocean.  In some places there is not more than six or eight feet between the roof of the galleries and the water.  Once the sea broke into it; but the hole was plugged and the water pumped out. On another occasion, a party of miners discovered a magnificent piece of ore little more than three feet below the ocean.  The treasure tempted them to risk their lives to obtain it.  They cut it out, and successfully filled up the hole.  It is said that so terrific is the noise during heavy weather, when the waves dash in on the shore, and roll the pebbles backwards and forwards, that even the bold miners are compelled to rush out, unable to endure the uproar.  The scene was most extraordinary.  Vast pumps appeared amid the cliffs, unceasingly drawing up water, which rushed in a red torrent into the sea.  Steam and smoke were spitting out in all directions; and men, women, and boys were employed in sorting the ore as the kibble brought it to the surface. This was only one of many similar mines along the coast.  Having satisfied our curiosity, we drove back to Penzance; and at once repaired on board the yachts, as papa and Uncle Tom were unwilling to lose more of the fine weather.