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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
227
We
stayed
some
time
at
the
Boniton
Fall,
which
has
one
great
advantage
over
the
other
falls,
that
it
is
at
the
termination
of
the
pleasure-grounds,
and
we
see
no
traces
of
the
boundary-line;
yet,
except
under
some
accidental
circumstances,
such
as
a
sunset
like
that
of
the
preceding
evening,
it
is
greatly
inferior
to
the
Cora
Linn.
We
returned
to
the
inn
to
dinner.
The
landlord
set
the
first
dish
upon
the
table,
as
is
common
in
England,
and
we
were
well
waited
upon.
This
first
dish
was
true
Scottish--a
boiled
sheep's
head,
with
the
hair
singed
off;
Coleridge
and
I
ate
heartily
of
it;
we
had
barley
broth,
in
which
the
sheep's
head
had
been
boiled.
A
party
of
tourists
whom
we
had
met
in
the
pleasure-grounds
drove
from
the
door
while
we
were
waiting
for
dinner;
I
guess
they
were
fresh
from
England,
for
they
had
stuffed
the
pockets
of
their
carriage
with
bundles
of
heather,
roots
and
all,
just
as
if
Scotland
grew
no
heather
but
on
the
banks
of
the
Clyde.
They
passed
away
with
their
treasure
towards
Loch
Lomond.
A
party
of
boys,
dressed
all
alike
in
blue,
very
neat,
were
standing
at
the
chaise-door;
we
conjectured
they
were
charity
scholars;
but
found
on
inquiry
that
they
were
apprentices
to
the
cotton
factory;
we
were
told
that
they
were
well
instructed
in
reading
and
writing.
We
had
seen
in
the
morning
a
flock
of
girls
dressed
in
grey
coming
out
of
the
factory,
probably
apprentices
also.
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