my address for every day, and promised to keep a diary, and
always sleep between blankets, for fear the sheets shouldn't be aired--
and what more can a fellow do?

Well, then mother said I must promise to keep in the valleys, and not
attempt to climb any of the mountains. Oh, ah! lively work that would
be. I might just as well stay at home and walk round Russell Square
fifty times a day; and I said so, and repeated off from memory what the
guide-book says about the way up Helvellyn. This last fetched them
rather, and convinced them I wasn't undertaking what I didn't know all
about. So at last father said, "Let the boy go, it may do him good and
teach him self-reliance."

"But what'll be the good of that," sobs mother, "if my Bartholomew falls
over a precipice and never comes home?"

"Oh, I'll promise not to fall over a precipice," said I.

And at last it was settled, and here I am in the train, half-way to
Windermere.

Just been looking through my knapsack. Frightful nuisance! Had it
weighed at Euston, and it weighs 4 pounds 8 ounces. I wanted to keep it
under 4 pounds! Must be the spare shirt the girls insisted on my
bringing, as if I couldn't wash the one I've got on in half a dozen
waterfalls a day, and just run myself dry afterwards! Don't see what I
can throw out. Must take the guide-book, and boot-laces, and needle and
worsted for my blisters, and a collar for Sunday, and a match-box, and
this diary book and a night-shirt. Bother that extra eight ounces.

I'm certain it will drag me down. By the way there are the sandwiches
and apples! Suppose I eat them now, that'll make it all right. Good
thought that. Here goes!

Getting near Windermere now--be there in an hour. May as well put on my
knapsack, so as to be ready. By the way, I hope my money's all right,
and I hope father's given me enough. He paid for my return ticket down
here, and he's given me 6 shillings a day for the rest of the time.
Says he did the Lakes once on 5 shillings a day when he was a boy.
Somehow don't fancy there'll be much change for me out of the 6
shillings, if the guide-book says right; but you won't catch me spending
more! Shan't ride anywhere where I can walk, and don't mean to tip any
waiters all the time! Shall have to shut up now and look at the scenery
at page 52 of the guide-book.

8 p.m., Ambleside.--The "Green Unicorn." Here at last, very fagged. I
mean to have a row with the shoemaker when I get home