residents for a month in the neighbourhood,
looked down with some contempt as mere
strangers, who were sure to go about blundering,
or losing their way, or being imposed upon
by guides, or admiring the wrong things, and
never seeing the right things. After we had
dragged ourselves through the long straggling
town, we came to a part of the highway where
it wound between copses sufficiently high to
make a green gloom in a green shade; the
branches touched and interlaced overhead,
while the road was so straight, that all the
quarter-of-an-hour that we were walking we
could see the opening of blue light at the
other end, and note the quivering of the
heated luminous air beyond the dense shade
in which we moved. Every now and then,
we caught glimpses of the silver lake that
shimmered through the trees; and, now and
then, in the dead noon-tide stillness, we could
hear the gentle lapping of the water on the
pebbled shore—the only sound we heard,
except the low deep hum of myriads of insects
revelling out their summer lives. We had
all agreed that talking made us hotter, so we
and the birds were very silent. Out again
into the hot bright sunny dazzling road, the
fierce sun above our heads made us long to be
at home, but we had passed the half-way, and
to go on was shorter than to return. Now
we left the highway, and began to mount.
The ascent looked disheartening, but at almost
every step we gained increased freshness of
air; and the crisp short mountain grass was
soft and cool in comparison with the high
road. The little wandering breezes, that
came every now and then athwart us, were
laden with fragrant scents—now of wild
thyme—now of the little scrambling creeping
white rose, which ran along the ground and
pricked our feet with its sharp thorns; and
now we came to a trickling streamlet, on
whose spongy banks grew great bushes of
the bog-myrtle, giving a spicy odour to the
air. When our breath failed us during that
steep ascent, we had one invariable dodge by
which we hoped to escape the "fat and scant
of breath " quotation; we turned round and
admired the lovely views, which from each
succeeding elevation became more and more
beautiful.

At last, perched on a level which seemed
nothing more than a mere shelf of rock, we
saw our destined haven—a grey stone
farmhouse, high over our heads, high above the
lake as we were—with out-buildings enough
around it to justify the Scotch name of a
"town;"  and near it one of those great bossy
sycamores, so common in similar situations
all through Cumberland and Westmoreland.
One more long tug and then we should be
there. So, cheering the poor tired little ones,
we set off bravely for that last piece of steep
rocky path; and we never looked behind till
we stood in the coolness of the deep porch,
looking down from our natural terrace on the.
glassy Derwent water, far, far below, reflecting
each tint of the blue sky, only in darker fuller
colours every one. We seemed on a level
with the top of Cat Bell; and the tops of
great trees lay deep down—so deep that we
felt as if they were close enough together and
solid enough to bear our feet if we chose to
spring down and walk upon them. Right in
front of where we stood, there was a ledge of
the rocky field that surrounded the house.
We had knocked at the door, but it was
evident that we were unheard in the din and
merry clatter of voices within, and our old
original shyness returned. By and bye, some
one found us out, and a hearty burst of
hospitable welcome ensued. Our coming was all
right; it was understood in a minute who we
were; our real hostess was hardly less urgent
in her civilities than our temporary hostess,
and both together bustled us out of the room
upon which the outer door entered, into a
large bedroom which opened out of it—the
state apartment, in all such houses in
Cumberland—where the children make their first
appearance, and where the heads of the household
lie down to die if the Great Conqueror
gives them sufficient warning for such decent
and composed submission as is best in
accordance with the simple dignity of their
lives.

Into this chamber we were ushered, and
the immediate relief from its dark coolness to
our overheated bodies and dazzled eyes was
inexpressibly refreshing. The walls were so
thick that there was room for a very
comfortable window-seat in them, without there
being any projection into the room; and the
long low shape prevented the sky-line from
being unusually depressed, even at that
height, and so the light was subdued, and
the general tint through the room deepened
into darkness, where the eye fell on that
stupendous bed, with its posts, and its head-piece,
and its foot-board, and its trappings of all
kinds of the deepest brown; and the frame
itself looked large enough for six or seven
people to lie comfortably therein, without even
touching each other. In the hearth-place,
stood a great pitcher filled with branches of
odorous mountain flowers; and little bits of
rosemary and lavender were strewed about
the room; partly, as I afterwards learnt, to
prevent incautious feet from slipping about
on the polished oak floor. When we had
noticed everything, and rested, and cooled
(as much as we could do before the equinox),
we returned to the company assembled in the
house-place.

This house-place was almost a hall in
grandeur. Along one side ran an oaken
dresser, all decked with the same sweet
evergreens, fragments of which strewed the
bedroom floor. Over this dresser were shelves,
bright with most exquisitely polished pewter.
Opposite to the bedroom door was the great
hospitable fireplace, ensconced within its
proper chimney corners, and having the
'' master's cupboard " on its right hand side.