the dale. To the left the acclivity is less sudden, and its base is sometimes covered with trees, sometimes spread out into fields; but it rises ere long to an altitude equal to the opposite side, so that the road is shut in by a double range of hills, while in the far-off distance ever appears the hazy outline of some huge round-shouldered fell. Now and then a farmhouse may be seen perched up amongst the trees, but as a rule they lie along the road. Nailed against the wall of one I noticed a number of dry corpses of weasels, squirrels, hawks, and some tails of wildcats—a proof to the master of the energy of his servants.
Peaceful, indeed, would be the lives of these dalesmen, if it were not that their chief industry—lead-mining—is subject to much fluctuation. Reeth, the centre of the mining district, is a bleak and rather dismal place, surrounded by lofty hills. It stands itself at a level of 600 feet above the sea; while Reeth Low Moor, which rises immediately behind the village, is 1000 feet higher. All the houses are of stone, and, like both the men and the horses, may be described as "bony, gaunt, and grim." What a relief a red chimney-pot would be!—but not a particle of colour is allowed to disturb the dull monotony of the grey limestone, of which not only houses, but barns and stables, are built. So plentiful is it that I observed a lane actually paved, •while every field is divided by walls called "dykes," composed of loose boulders, which are piled one on another, and kept together by their great weight.
These dykes intersect the landscape in all directions, adding to the severe aspect of the hills, scarred all along their heights with patches of naked rock. But the dale itself is sweet, though stern. Seen in the transfiguring power of sunlight, all its hardness softens into lines of beauty.
It was hay harvest, but the season was peculiarly wet. Now and then the sun broke out, and then the fields were full of groups of busy men and women. Up and down they went, steadily tossing the new-mown grass, while the children sang joyfully. It was a happy hour—
"From dale to dale,
Waking the breeze, arose the blended voice
Of happy labour, love, and social glee."
