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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
267
It
came
on
a
very
stormy
night;
the
wind
rattled
every
window
in
the
house,
and
it
rained
heavily.
William
and
Coleridge
had
bad
beds,
in
a
two-bedded
room
in
the
garrets,
though
there
were
empty
rooms
on
the
first
floor,
and
they
were
disturbed
by
a
drunken
man,
who
had
come
to
the
inn
when
we
were
gone
to
sleep.
Thursday,
August
25th.--We
were
glad
when
we
awoke
to
see
that
it
was
a
fine
morning--the
sky
was
bright
blue,
with
quick-moving
clouds,
the
hills
cheerful,
lights
and
shadows
vivid
and
distinct.
The
village
looked
exceedingly
beautiful
this
morning
from
the
garret
windows--the
stream
glittering
near
it,
while
it
flowed
under
trees
through
the
level
fields
to
the
lake.
After
breakfast,
William
and
I
went
down
to
the
water-side.
The
roads
were
as
dry
as
if
no
drop
of
rain
had
fallen,
which
added
to
the
pure
cheerfulness
of
the
appearance
of
the
village,
and
even
of
the
distant
prospect,
an
effect
which
I
always
seem
to
perceive
from
clearly
bright
roads,
for
they
are
always
brightened
by
rain,
after
a
storm;
but
when
we
came
among
the
houses
I
regretted
even
more
than
last
night,
because
the
contrast
was
greater,
the
slovenliness
and
dirt
near
the
doors;
and
could
not
but
remember,
with
pain
from
the
contrast,
the
cottages
of
Somersetshire,
covered
with
roses
and
myrtle,
and
their
small
gardens
of
herbs
and
flowers.
While
lingering
by
the
shore
we
began
to
talk
with
a
man
who
offered
to
row
us
to
Inch-ta-vannach;
but
the
sky
began
to
darken;
and
the
wind
being
high,
we
doubted
whether
we
should
venture,
therefore
made
no
engagement;
he
offered
to
sell
me
some
thread,
pointing
to
his
cottage,
and
added
that
many
English
ladies
carried
thread
away
from
Luss.
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