left, saying, 'We must have some
conversation here.' He paddled on with his small pawing feet till we
came right opposite to a gentleman's house on the other side of the
valley, when he halted, repeating some words, I have forgotten what,
which were taken up by the most distinct echo I ever heard--this is
saying little: it was the most distinct echo that it is possible to
conceive. It shouted the names of our fireside friends in the very tone
in which William and Coleridge spoke; but it seemed to make a joke of me,
and I could not help laughing at my own voice, it was so shrill and pert,
exactly as if some one had been mimicking it very successfully, with an
intention of making me ridiculous. I wished Joanna {41} had been there
to laugh, for the echo is an excellent laugher, and would have almost
made her believe that it was a true story which William has told of her
and the mountains. We turned back, crossed the valley, went through the
orchard and plantations belonging to the gentleman's house. By the bye,
we observed to our guide that the echo must bring many troublesome
visitors to disturb the quiet of the owner of that house. 'Oh no,' said
he, 'he glories in much company.' He was a native of that neighbourhood,
had made a moderate fortune abroad, purchased an estate, built the house,
and raised the plantations; and further, had made a convenient walk
through his woods to the Cartland Crags. The house was modest and neat,
and though not adorned in the best taste, and though the plantations were
of fir, we looked at it with great pleasure, there was such true
liberality and kind-heartedness in leaving his orchard path open, and his
walks unobstructed by gates. I hope this goodness is not often abused by
plunderers of the apple-trees, which were hung with tempting apples close
to the path.

At the termination of the little valley, we descended through a wood
along a very steep path to a muddy stream running over limestone rocks;
turned up to the left along the bed of the stream, and soon we were
closed in by rocks on each side. They were very lofty--of limestone,
trees starting out of them, high and low, overhanging the stream or
shooting up towards the sky. No place of the kind could be more
beautiful if the stream had been clear, but it was of a muddy yellow
colour; had it been a large river, one might have got the better of the
unpleasantness of the muddy water in the grandeur of its roaring, the
boilin