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Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)
·
Dorothy Wordsworth
273
Arrived
at
the
inn
at
about
twelve
o'clock,
and
prepared
to
depart
immediately:
we
should
have
gone
with
great
regret
if
the
weather
had
been
warmer
and
the
inn
more
comfortable.
When
we
were
leaving
the
door,
a
party
with
smart
carriage
and
servants
drove
up,
and
I
observed
that
the
people
of
the
house
were
just
as
slow
in
their
attendance
upon
them
as
on
us,
with
one
single
horse
and
outlandish
Hibernian
vehicle.
When
we
had
travelled
about
two
miles
the
lake
became
considerably
narrower,
the
hills
rocky,
covered
with
copses,
or
bare,
rising
more
immediately
from
the
bed
of
the
water,
and
therefore
we
had
not
so
often
to
regret
the
want
of
inhabitants.
Passed
by,
or
saw
at
a
distance,
sometimes
a
single
cottage,
or
two
or
three
together,
but
the
whole
space
between
Luss
and
Tarbet
is
a
solitude
to
the
eye.
We
were
reminded
of
Ulswater,
but
missed
the
pleasant
farms,
and
the
mountains
were
not
so
interesting:
we
had
not
seen
them
in
companies
or
brotherhoods
rising
one
above
another
at
a
long
distance.
Ben
Lomond
stood
alone,
opposite
to
us,
majestically
overlooking
the
lake;
yet
there
was
something
in
this
mountain
which
disappointed
me,--a
want
of
massiveness
and
simplicity,
perhaps
from
the
top
being
broken
into
three
distinct
stages.
The
road
carried
us
over
a
bold
promontory
by
a
steep
and
high
ascent,
and
we
had
a
long
view
of
the
lake
pushing
itself
up
in
a
narrow
line
through
an
avenue
of
mountains,
terminated
by
the
mountains
at
the
head
of
the
lake,
of
which
Ben
Lui,
if
I
do
not
mistake,
is
the
most
considerable.
The
afternoon
was
showery
and
misty,
therefore
we
did
not
see
this
prospect
so
distinctly
as
we
could
have
wished,
but
there
was
a
grand
obscurity
over
it
which
might
make
the
mountains
appear
more
numerous.
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