And spite of the weatherwise head-waiter of the
'Salutation' and of him of Coniston Inn, the day was beautiful. We had
to give up the ponies when we were half a mile from the top, and clamber
up ourselves. The guide was very intelligent, and pointed out the lakes,
Windermere, Coniston; and the mountains, Helvellyn, Skiddaw, and
Saddleback; but at one time he spoke a name that I couldn't understand,
and forgetting that I was in England and not in America, I asked him to
_spell_ it. He replied, 'Theys call it so always.' He did not fail,
however, to ask questions like a Yankee, if he couldn't spell like one.
'Which way be ye coming?'--'From America.'--'Ye'll be going to Scotland
like?'--'Yes.'--'Ye'll be spending much money before ye are home again.'
"When we were quite on top of the mountain I asked what the white
glimmering was in the distance, and he said it was, what I supposed, an
arm of the sea.
"The shadows of the flying clouds were very pretty falling on the hills
around us, and the villages in the valleys beneath looked like white
dots on the green.
"Sunday, Sept. 20, 1857. We have been to see Miss Southey to-day. I sent
the letter which Mrs. Airy gave me yesterday, and with it a note saying
that I would call to-day if convenient.
"Miss Southey replied at once, saying that she should be happy to see
me. She lives in a straggling, irregular cottage, like most of the
cottages around Keswick, but beautifully situated, though far from the
lake.
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