I found two
Westmoreland peasants in the room, with ale before them. One went away
almost immediately; but the other remained, and, entering into
conversation with him, he told me that he was going to New Zealand, and
expected to sail in September. I announced myself as an American, and he
said that a large party had lately gone from hereabouts to America; but
he seemed not to understand that there was any distinction between Canada
and the States. These people had gone to Quebec. He was a very civil,
well-behaved, kindly sort of person, of a simple character, which I took
to belong to the class and locality, rather than to himself individually.
I could not very well understand all that he said, owing to his
provincial dialect; and when he spoke to his own countrymen, or to the
women of the house, I really could but just catch a word here and there.
How long it takes to melt English down into a homogeneous mass! He told
me that there was a public library in Grasmere to which he has access in
common with the other inhabitants, and a reading-room connected with it,
where he reads The Times in the evening. There was no American smartness
in his mind. When I left the house, it was showering briskly; but the
drops quite ceased, and the clouds began to break away before I reached
my hotel, and I saw the new moon over my right shoulder.
July 21st.--We left Grasmere yesterday, after breakfast; it being a
delightful morning, with some clouds, but the cheerfullest sunshine on
great part of the mountainsides and on ourselves.
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