Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 1 (of 2)

Mercy upon us! if it could be concealed, it would be well for all who are not pained to see the pleasantest of earthly spots deformed by man. But it cannot be covered. Even the tallest of our old oak trees would not reach to the top of it. When we went into the boat, there were two men standing at the landing-place. One seemed to be about sixty, a man with a jolly red face; he looked as if he might have lived many years in Mr. Curwen's house. He wore a blue jacket and trousers, as the people who live close by Windermere, particularly at the places of chief resort.... He looked significantly at our boatman just as we were rowing off, and said, "Thomas, mind you take the directions off that cask. You know what I mean. It will serve as a blind for them. You know. It was a blind business, both for you, and the coachman, ... and all of us. Mind you take off the directions. 'A wink's as good as a nod with some folks;'" and then he turned round, looking at his companion with an air of self-satisfaction, and deep insight into unknown things! I could hardly help laughing outright at him. The laburnums blossom freely at the island, and in the shrubberies on the shore; they are blighted everywhere else. Roses of various sorts now out. The brooms were in full glory everywhere, "veins of gold" among the copses. The hawthorns in the valley fading away; beautiful upon the hills. We reached home at three o'clock. After tea William went out and walked and wrote that poem,