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Gentleman's Magazine 1792 p.1115 
  
present is the little alien. His mother knew her frailties  
too well; and was too honest to swear to a father; therefore 
the villagers have taken the boy amongst them, and are going 
to send him to school, They said, with concern, until a  
fortnight ago they had no regular schoolmaster these two  
years; in short, since the period of chusing their clergyman 
was taken from them. The chapel and the school serves for  
both purposes, and I could almost reach the roof with my  
head. The inhabitants, time out of mind, used to appoint  
their own clergyman, and he was generally chosen with full  
consent. Perhaps it was the very poorest livelihood in the  
kingdom, even with the addition of Queen Anne's bounty; but  
it was a vehicle for a minor priest to get superior orders;  
and there never was a want of candidates. They now say they  
have lost their right; at any rate, they are afraid to claim 
it, as they are more in dread of the Great Eagle of the  
North than the eagles which build in their mountains; they  
think it a judgment upon them for unanimously voting au  
contraire at a contested election. But, whatever may be  
the reason, they are left to go to heaven as quietly as they 
can. The Schoolmaster, without being a Parson, officiates as 
such; and a clergyman from Lorton, the parish-church, comes  
over about once in six weeks to administer the Sacrament,  
which may be the means of preserving the bounty. In this  
forlorn manner is the service* performed in  
the village of Buttermere. Luckily, it could not have  
happened in a village where it appears less wanted; but as  
good, harmless people always regret the loss of a good  
custom, they regret it. 
  
"The village consists of fourteen families, and some of them 
are rich people; that is, they may have fifty pounds a-year  
landed property, and healthful flocks of sheep. We had salt  
provisions and vegetables for dinner; and I do not think  
there was a fresh joint in the valley. The ale was  
home-brewed, and good, but rather too strong for our taste.  
If you are fond of strong ale, Buttermere is famous for it.  
Wine and spirits are not sold here; and they are so far from 
the excise, they pay their duty by compromise, ten pence  
halfpenny a-week. The landlady says they do not sometimes  
sell six pennyworths a-week .... On our return, we met a  
woman with a loaded horse. She had been to Keswick market,  
laying-in meat and other necessaries for herself and  
neighbours. This amicable custom is equaled by the  
following: when a person is sick, or a woman about to  
lie-in, a horseman is sent express to Keswick or Cockermouth 
for a surgeon, and the neighbours send a relay of horses to  
expedite him. When we came to the Cockermouth road, we had a 
rich sight of a rainbow extending from Keswick, and just  
including Lowdore fall. It was rendered more beautiful by a  
watery tinge on the tops of the hills, and by the sun's  
partially leaving them, shewing which was the highest. 
  
"SALLY OF BUTTERMERE. 
  
"Her mother and she were spinning woollen yarn in the back  
kitchen. On our going into it, the girl flew away as swift  
as a mountain-sheep, and it was until our return from  
Scale-Force that we could say we first saw her. She  
brought-in part of our dinner, and seemed to be about  
fifteen. Her hair was thick and long, of a dark brown, and,  
though unadorned with ringlets, did not seem to want them.  
Her face was a fine contour, with full eyes, and lips as red 
as vermillion. Her cheeks had more of the lily than the  
rose; and although she had never been out of the village  
(and, I hope, will have no ambition to wish it), she had a  
manner about her which seemed better calculated to set off  
dress than dress her. She was a very Lavinia, 'Seeming, when 
unadorn'd, adorn'd the most,' When we first saw her at her  
distaff, after she got the better of her first fears, she  
looked an angel; and I doubt not but she is the reigning  
lily of the valley. Ye travellers of the Lakes, if you  
visit this obscure place, such will find the fair Sally of  
Buttermere!" 
  
"The inhabitants in general about these mountainous  
countries are not so tall or lusty as in many others;  
perhaps, as it requires great industry to get a livelihood,  
the growth of their children is checked by early labour.  
They live to a very advanced age; and the faces of the very  
old are strong and healthfully marked with deep short  
wrinkles. The middle-aged are commonnly handsome; their  
youth are ruddy and sun-burnt; their children have the faces 
of Cherubim, and seem to have "the milk of Dorothy" flowing  
purely in their veins. They are not only affectionate to  
their parents, but friendly amongst each other; and a man  
would run risk of his life in deep snow, in venturing over  
the steepest mountains to attend the funeral of a friend.  
They have the highest respect for the dead; perhaps to a  
degree bordering upon superstition; and they rather rob the  
living by the expence they put themselves to at a funeral.  
But as a livelihood, not a love of gain, is their grand  
consideration, they are too friendly and industrious to  
want; and I did not see (except some little vagrants at  
Keswick) one person that asked our charity. Their food is  
homely: they prefer thin oat-cake to wheat-bread; and they  
are fond of the natural products of the earth, which may be  
the reason of seeing large families in every house, for we  
did not call at a cottage that had less than three children. 
Their drink consists of butter-milk and whey, and,  
occasionally, a draught of 
  
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