Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
Share image
1
308
Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
202
When,
after
a
steep
ascent,
we
had
reached
the
top
of
the
hill,
we
saw
a
village
about
half
a
mile
before
us
on
the
side
of
another
hill,
which
rose
up
above
the
spot
where
we
were,
after
a
descent,
a
sort
of
valley
or
hollow.
Nothing
grew
upon
this
ground,
or
the
hills
above
or
below,
but
heather,
yet
round
about
the
village--which
consisted
of
a
great
number
of
huts,
all
alike,
and
all
thatched,
with
a
few
larger
slated
houses
among
them,
and
a
single
modern-built
one
of
a
considerable
size--were
a
hundred
patches
of
cultivated
ground,
potatoes,
oats,
hay,
and
grass.
We
were
struck
with
the
sight
of
haycocks
fastened
down
with
aprons,
sheets,
pieces
of
sacking--as
we
supposed,
to
prevent
the
wind
from
blowing
them
away.
We
afterwards
found
that
this
practice
was
very
general
in
Scotland.
Every
cottage
seemed
to
have
its
little
plot
of
ground,
fenced
by
a
ridge
of
earth;
this
plot
contained
two
or
three
different
divisions,
kail,
potatoes,
oats,
hay;
the
houses
all
standing
in
lines,
or
never
far
apart;
the
cultivated
ground
was
all
together
also,
and
made
a
very
strange
appearance
with
its
many
greens
among
the
dark
brown
hills,
neither
tree
nor
shrub
growing;
yet
the
grass
and
the
potatoes
looked
greener
than
elsewhere,
owing
to
the
bareness
of
the
neighbouring
hills;
it
was
indeed
a
wild
and
singular
spot--to
use
a
woman's
illustration,
like
a
collection
of
patchwork,
made
of
pieces
as
they
might
have
chanced
to
have
been
cut
by
the
mantua-maker,
only
just
smoothed
to
fit
each
other,
the
different
sorts
of
produce
being
in
such
a
multitude
of
plots,
and
those
so
small
and
of
such
irregular
shapes.
Add
to
the
strangeness
of
the
village
itself,
that
we
had
been
climbing
upwards,
though
gently,
for
many
miles,
and
for
the
last
mile
and
a
half
up
a
steep
ascent,
and
did
not
know
of
any
village
till
we
saw
the
boys
who
had
come
out
to
play.
The
air
was
very
cold,
and
one
could
not
help
thinking
what
it
must
be
in
winter,
when
those
hills,
now
"red
brown,"
should
have
their
three
months'
covering
of
snow.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over