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towards, and away from, the right bank of the Brathay, till
it reaches Skelwith Fold. There the stranger must alight
again, and go through a field gate to the right, to a rocky
point, where he commands the finest view of the valley and
its environs. And again, just before he comes to Skelwith
Bridge, he must go through the gap in the wall to the left,
and follow the field-track until he comes in sight of
Skelwith Force, He will hardly aver that he ever saw a more
perfect picture than this,- with the fall in the centre,
closed in by rock and wood on either hand, and by the
Langdale Pikes behind. Returning to his car, he will next
pass over the bridge, and the roaring torrent beneath, and
by stacks of wood, (more coppice wood for another
bobbin-mill,) and, turning to the right, will find that he
has headed the valley. As he is not going home, however, but
to Grasmere, he turns out of the Brathay valley by a steep
road on the left, which ascends again and again, leading by
farmsteads almost as primitive as those of Troutbeck, and
evidently mounting the spurs of Loughrigg, which he is
travelling round to-day, and which must therefore be always
on his right hand. After a while, he comes to a sheet of
water, so still, if the day be calm, that he might possibly
miss it, unless the precision of the reflections should
strike his eye. It is more likely, however, to be rippled by
some breeze, and to show how deeply blue, or darkly grey,
these mountain tarns may be. This is Loughrigg tarn, well
known to all readers of Wordsworth. At some little distance
beyond it, the stranger must diverge from his road to visit
High Close, and see the view which is re-
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