Young ladies, in broad-brimmed hats, stroll about, or row
on the river in the light shallops, of which there are abundance;
sportsmen sit on the benches under the windows of the hotel, arranging
their fishing-tackle; phaetons and post-chaises, with postilions in
scarlet jackets and white breeches, with one high-topped boot, and the
other leathered far up on the leg to guard against friction between the
horses, dash up to the door. Morning and night comes the stage-coach,
and we inspect the outside passengers, almost face to face with us, from
our parlor-windows, up one pair of stairs. Little boys, and J----- among
them, spend hours on hours fishing in the clear, shallow river for the
perch, chubs, and minnows that may be seen flashing, like gleams of light
over the flat stones with which the bottom is paved. I cannot answer for
the other boys, but J----- catches nothing.
There are a good many trees on the hills and roundabout, and pleasant
roads loitering along by the gentle river-side, and it has been so sunny
and warm since we came here that we shall have quite a genial
recollection of the place, if we leave it before the skies have time to
frown. The day after we came, we climbed a high and pretty steep hill,
through a path shadowed with trees and shrubbery, up to a tower, from the
summit of which we had a wide view of mountain scenery and the greater
part of Windermere. This lake is a lovely little pool among the hills,
long and narrow, beautifully indented with tiny bays and headlands; and
when we saw it, it was one smile (as broad a smile as its narrowness
allowed) with really brilliant sunshine.
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