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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
201
After
some
time
our
road
took
us
upwards
towards
the
end
of
the
valley.
Now
the
steeps
were
heathy
all
around.
Just
as
we
began
to
climb
the
hill
we
saw
three
boys
who
came
down
the
cleft
of
a
brow
on
our
left;
one
carried
a
fishing-rod,
and
the
hats
of
all
were
braided
with
honeysuckles;
they
ran
after
one
another
as
wanton
as
the
wind.
I
cannot
express
what
a
character
of
beauty
those
few
honeysuckles
in
the
hats
of
the
three
boys
gave
to
the
place:
what
bower
could
they
have
come
from?
We
walked
up
the
hill,
met
two
well-dressed
travellers,
the
woman
barefoot.
Our
little
lads
before
they
had
gone
far
were
joined
by
some
half-dozen
of
their
companions,
all
without
shoes
and
stockings.
They
told
us
they
lived
at
Wanlockhead,
the
village
above,
pointing
to
the
top
of
the
hill;
they
went
to
school
and
learned
Latin,
Virgil,
and
some
of
them
Greek,
Homer,
but
when
Coleridge
began
to
inquire
further,
off
they
ran,
poor
things!
I
suppose
afraid
of
being
examined.
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