was a single
cottage by the brook side; the dell was not heathy, but it was impossible
not to think of Peter Bell's Highland Girl.

We now felt indeed that we were in Scotland; there was a natural
peculiarity in this place. In the scenes of the Nith it had not been the
same as England, but yet not simple, naked Scotland. The road led us
down the hill, and now there was no room in the vale but for the river
and the road; we had sometimes the stream to the right, sometimes to the
left. The hills were pastoral, but we did not see many sheep; green
smooth turf on the left, no ferns. On the right the heath-plant grew in
abundance, of the most exquisite colour; it covered a whole hillside, or
it was in streams and patches. We travelled along the vale without
appearing to ascend for some miles; all the reaches were beautiful, in
exquisite proportion, the hills seeming very high from being so near to
us. It might have seemed a valley which nature had kept to herself for
pensive thoughts and tender feelings, but that we were reminded at every
turning of the road of something beyond by the coal-carts which were
travelling towards us. Though these carts broke in upon the tranquillity
of the glen, they added much to the picturesque effect of the different
views, which indeed wanted nothing, though perfectly bare, houseless, and
treeless.

After some time our road took us upwards towards the end of the valley.
Now the steeps were heathy all around. Just as we began to climb the
hill we saw three boys who came down the cleft of a brow on our left; one
carried a fishing-rod, and the hats of all were braided with
honeysuckles; they ran after one another as wanton as the wind. I cannot
express what a character of beauty those few honeysuckles in the hats of
the three boys gave to the place: what bower could they have come from?
We walked up the hill, met two well-dressed travellers, the woman
barefoot. Our little lads before they had gone far were joined by some
half-dozen of their companions, all without shoes and stockings. They
told us they lived at Wanlockhead, the village above, pointing to the top
of the hill; they went to school and learned Latin, Virgil, and some of
them Greek, Homer, but when Coleridge began to inquire further, off they
ran, poor things! I suppose afraid of being examined.

When, after a steep ascent, we had reached the top of the hill, we saw a
village about half a mile before us on the side of a